Salt and Pepper White privilege it’s called and recently I learned its name although I’ve been white as a sheet for decades. Like breathing and eating I take white privilege for granted. I push a cart through a megastore in bib overalls and no one follows me and when I hail a cab in a snow storm, it picks me up. My freckles may be a stop sign. Not so […]
Read more
‘Misery Of Living’ On a first name basis at my hometown pharmacy Solace is an orange bottle that says I still have five refills remaining The same faceless people accompany me on the trolley I’ve witnessed the benefits of Christianity at the light of life but God is still a stranger All alone amongst the crowd people carry on like […]
Read more
A stiff razor-edged blade slices – By Gil Hoy through pulsating flesh, as the hot orange sun glistens on freshly red-tainted steel. No moans, no cries, no gasps, as the core of a rational caring human being falls to the ground with a sickening thud. A disgusted Prime Minister, with rows of soldiers in neatly pressed uniforms […]
Read more
Careless Consumption The tide slowly ebbs from Florida shores so tourists walk the beaches without getting wet, never wondering why there are no more seashells. The ocean looks the same to them, not realizing the muddy water was once clear blue, completely untainted. The fishes are departing scooped up in massive nets that do not recognize the need to feed […]
Read more
ROARING SUN (By Joseph Cavera) Endless are the days that begin again my tredging and dredging across the plains within planes through the tall grass and beyond green scenes and misty screens front the path to the distant shores Held within are the Tides so free which confide to me the planet’s raring flow while blacker waves make incredible […]
Read more
sKiN by, Melissa R. Mendelson Are you hungry? Are you thirsty? Are you cold? Are you warm? Are you awake? Are you aware? These questions ran on a loop. It seemed like with every hour, they greeted me as an old friend would, but no face accompanied these words. I remained alone, locked in solitude. My black arm rested across […]
Read more
Aurora Australis The stars spun in a flashing cloud purple and blue—pulsating and out of the middle of the swirl shone a black ray, seeming to fold in on itself, expanding simultaneously ser lat allar etoy eelh ottop alalalala ashalla shalla shallalalala ser atalate piercing my ears in its grasp crashing heavenly lightning upon my head.
Read more
Shut – By, Melissa R. Mendelson White porcelain faces in this river that I still drown in, pulled under by their world. Painted eyes closed and plastic smiles, their faces drift by as I continue to struggle to stand. Chorus: Will you see me? Will you open your eyes? Can you take me in? Let me be […]
Read more
Cremation I’ve always believed in cremation; Flames bleach the world, unclutter living things. Let scum survivors, grasshoppers Leave cemeteries a mess Of living impulses dismembered. Not knowing fire’s totality But sickly honouring it stunting In tortured carbon stench. I’ve always believed in cremation Ever since I read of great skull mountains; Those potash handfuls are so clean […]
Read more
From the Alcove As I peep through my window From the alcove, A theater starts its never ending show From dawn to dusk Of street goers, Pedestrians heading towards their work, Some striding some slithering unwillingly, Now a street urchin, bare feet strolls Scavenging for a trinket or food, Women of all ages walking In the sweltering heat of summer […]
Read more