Of Hearts and Empty Wallets by Abhinav Dasgupta I’ve been without lovefor so longthat I’ve forgottenwhether it tasteslike storms orsunflowers. A broken shoeboxrattles weaklyunder my bedwith ribbon wrappedremainsof what love usedto look like-red hearts andpink photo framesbut they aremore friendly withdustthan my fingertips. When you livewith the absenceof somethingfor too longyou learn to letits ghostmake… Read More Of Hearts and Empty Wallets

Loneliness of the Heart by Pat St. Pierre Like stripping bark off a treeyou reveal to him your innermost thoughts;your soul becomes naked. He yearns to protect youfrom heartache and loneliness;to wrap his armsaround you in comfort. Insteadhis casual speech is noncommittal. Faint sounds can be heardin the distance like a foghornforewarning mariners of impending… Read More Loneliness of the Heart

Baby, You’re My Miracle! by Daisy Davis Baby, you’re my miracleYour angelic face, such blissful peace,Your tender lips rubbing my cheeks,Your sweet voice, soothing like the sea. Your tiny hands clinging to my chest,Your sweet innocence tugging at my heart,Stroking your hair, I think to myself,O dear! From you, I cannot part. You so run… Read More Baby, You’re My Miracle!

If Sorrow Was A Person by Anushka Das sorrow istoo youngto be thismorose she is only nineteen sorrow shutsthe windows anddoors so tightlynot a sliver of hopecan invade she lives in my room sorrow doesn’tcry to sleepevery nightbut justenough nights she sleeps on my pillow sorrow wearsa party hatto funerals she uses my charcoal toothbrush… Read More If Sorrow Was A Person

Who Cares About Mountains? by Bethany Coveney His hands hiked twice over the two raised peaks.Reckless and incautious, not wonderingwhat the gentle mountain says if it speaks. Dismissing the rain and the thunderinghe advanced to the top with male anger,thinking the scenery was his to steal. The climb gets wilder, and it gets harderto breathe.… Read More Who Cares About Mountains?

Our Friend by Nicholas Adamides I have written a letter to our friend,He depicts a new order for our dear Russia;one that will drown her,drown her in all thou hath ever tried to keep back.He says the people have unleashed themselves;whirling them into times of great horror.Take his words as I did, my love;he sees… Read More Our Friend

Funeral at 9 by Nikita Biswas Today’s morning greeted mewith overcast skies paintedin a drowsy monotone ofwine-red strokes, mimickingthe crimson carpet stainsby my window. I hold my head under waterto rinse off the whispers inside my headlike dirt from a pebble lyingcold amidst a milieu offootsteps. The mirror on my bathroomwall is splayed with M-A-Y-D-A-Yand… Read More Funeral at 9

Madame Helena Blavatsky by Carl Scharwath Your spiritual revolutionBecame an evolutionAs the world battles a conflict ofGood and evil. Tibetan telepathy evoked youIn the music and lyricsOf Senzar- your songDiscovered a hidden world Esoteric thoughts reviveThe ancient wisdom synthesisStreaming into the Lethe RiverWaters of alpha privative await. The shells on the bankLeft behind by the… Read More Madame Helena Blavatsky

Poetries on my Body by Pragya Gogoi My lover says The bones breathing under my epidermisAre made less of collagen and more of metaphors.And how he finds the flesh cemented to my frameDyed with paint bottles of villanelles and sonnets,Haikus and elegies,Acrostics and epigrams. I grow alliterations on my collarbones,Plucking them to bedeck baked balladsCascading… Read More Poetries on my Body

Gold Splashed Dreams are Man’s Corruption by Kim Laloma Gold splashed dreams are on the corners of my mind, tip of the tongue recollections mirage silver blue reflections, past, present, future connections.Enlightenment expressions, no direction, string theory extensions, they have given me nothing through deception, but I am the blessing they’re all less than, mostly… Read More Gold Splashed Dreams