Poem – After the Snowstorm (By Danny P. Barbare)
After the Snowstorm On a sunny day I see Nandina berries plump and red that were once covered with snow.
Read moreAfter the Snowstorm On a sunny day I see Nandina berries plump and red that were once covered with snow.
Read moreyou didn’t give a f**k for anything’ except love’ and art. it was the precipice that kept it sane’ kept it afloat even as you slid further and further away in real life and newly rediscovered sanctimony. even as we lay side by side and the workers could glimpse us as they worked the neighboring flat. It sits […]
Read moreManhattan Landlord I ran a swell restaurant for many years on a good block in Manhattan. I wasn’t rich, but made a good living, paid my workers well so they were happy and passed it on to customers. Then my lease ran out. The landlord raised the rent, three hundred percent. There was no way I could […]
Read moreIt’s Snowing in Manila “The snow is always falling in ‘Fargo,’ cloaking the world in metaphysical confusion.” – Jessica Zafra The militant chided the child for singing “White Christmas” when the longest Christmas season isn’t white, in the absence of snow in these parts. (The movement would not give its imprimatur.) But it gets almost-white cold up in Baguio City. But […]
Read moreIN THE LONG RUN (By Joseph Cavera) Run to get the endorphins flowing Run away from the catastrophes you’ve created Run over all the bases in the game Run off on a tangent Run out of ideas, think once more Run far far away like a psycho killer, or Forrest Gump Run till your heart’s content, and your legs […]
Read moreROARING 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 moreDaily Paper on the Lawn An hour before dawn the paper is out on the lawn white in the moonlight a trumpet dozing after a long night in a jazz bar tired from playing but willing to play a last set for me not knowing I read only sports and the obits two riffs in the paper anyone can believe Author Bio: Donal Mahoney lives […]
Read moreTo The One Who Desires To Be Me what life is left in me to be desired? me, the wayward wing of a brawny bluebird that lost its grip on the tiptop of a fruit tree fell flat on the heart of a wretched rock where rains washed all traces of its milky memories far far away i live on […]
Read moreIF YOU THOUGHT THIS YEAR WAS BAD … (Based on “December 21, 2012: The Real Doomsday?” from http://www.viewzone.com/endtime.html) Doomsday forecasts I believe Offer humans no reprieve. But, unlike the common thread, Won’t be we who strike us dead. No atomic holocaust, Nor the melt of permafrost, Nor deforestation’s squeeze, Nor extinction of species. Happened to us […]
Read moreProcesses Grammar of grief wraps itself around the tremors of time and chips: organize blue pencillers. This will obliterate your errors. Better still, equip yourself and be your own editor.
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