Poetry
Poem – Rear View Mirror (By Mary Bone)
Rear View Mirror Basking on the beaches of the Amalfi Coast I left the world behind, in southern Italy. It was so unique and exclusive. I was glad to see the dust fly in my rear view mirror ...
Poem – Not Another (By JD Dehart)
Not Another Not another poem about the crunch of autumn leaves; I would stuff the leaves in my mouth, chew them, and make a collage. Not another poem about pristine snow; I'd mark it with my humanity, trying to ...
Poem – In Shadow (By Melissa R. Mendelson)
Vampires only live in legends, but the thirst to be eternal burns deep in heart as cities ignite with humanity crashing through, and the sun sets on another day of history. And I desire to see beyond another tomorrow and ...
Poem – Living Outside the Box (By Mankh)
Living Outside the Box - By Mankh The Empire likes to put people in boxes, from airy crib to nailed-tight casket and in-between in psychological boxes, wrapped identities with ornate bows but never bowing with humility, packages to be delivered, ...
Poem – June Poem (By Danny P. Barbare)
All I need is a drop of dew and the shade of cherry tree to think to think a lovely thought ...
Poem – FRANKFURT PIG (By Joseph Cavera)
FRANKFURT PIG (By Joseph Cavera) There once was a pig from Frankfurt, Who found he had grime on his shirt, He believed neither eye As he sullied a silk tie After spending a day, or two, in the dirt Now ...
Poem – EKPHRASIS, EKPHRASIS (By Joseph Cavera)
EKPHRASIS, EKPHRASIS (By Joseph Cavera) Soon I’ll See Another Red Hand, Pulling Known Entities Nearer And Nearer, Even Kings Pray “Halt” ‘Round Sinister Inhuman Slaughter… ...
Poem – Stuck on the Long Island Expressway near Lakeville Road (By Tom Brogan)
On the west bound expressway I drive my silver Honda. Except for a few stars, everything is black, The road is black, and rear car lights seem like a meteor show going 80 mph. There are four lanes of road ...
Poem – A Portrait of Wilbur (By JD DeHart)
A Portrait of Wilbur Just as one poet once wrote about a last duchess, so did the poet write about the first Wilbur. The brown clothing, smell of moth balls, scent of age of rows of books that Wilbur rested ...
Poem – rpm (By Abdulrahman M Abu-yaman)
rpm (rhetorical paradoxi-metaphorisis) scleras, snow white pupils, dilated. brain box, sparking incandescently. he asks the physician: 'tell me doctor, what's my malady?' stares at his sloppy zig-zag manuscript and replies 'rpm'. not comprehending, he utters, 'excuse me?', physician expatiates: 'rhetorical ...
