e-revista EgoPHobia - ISSN 1584-6210
by Daniel Barbiero With his still life paintings of bottles, cups, and other mundane things, Giorgio Morandi wants us to see that what we see isn’t all there is that’s there. The world presented in his still lifes is one in which perceptual faith – the belief in the reality of those things we encounter […]
by S. P. Singh On a sweltering summer evening, platform number four of the New Delhi Railway Station was jam-packed with passengers, their friends, and relatives who were there to see them off. They waited for The Ranikhet Express to move out. The train whistled a few times. The green signal was on, but the […]
by Zygmunt Nowak Solinski A Voice Hamid. Look outwards. Here you will not reach Heaven. How many generations have built this place? Always upwards. Seeking. I will show you beyond these clouds. Look. What do you see? There is no beginning. No end. Look to those horizons. That is where you must go. It can […]
by Kenneth M. Kapp 2022 In 2009 I accompanied Talbert Tutlinger to Vienna where he spent his formative years. Dr. Professor Tutlinger was a well- known famous philosopher. He often acknowledged that I was his good friend and amanuensis. We were more than that but in some circles, discretion was indeed the better part of […]
by Douglas Young “Are you coming or not?” An exasperated Dorinda Thompson called from the bottom stair as her 20-year-old son Oliver fussed with his hair. He had skipped the last three Thanksgiving family reunions at Aunt LaDonna and Uncle Mooney’s house two hours away. Always awkward facing so many relatives, he felt thoroughly […]
Succubus, Muse I have not written, as one banished, amnestied by the promise of a
Infinity I just crossed the Piraeus Port Gate 8; Sideways the symbol of infinity. And I’m heading to the Island
Last Poem Today, while polishing off a Polish doughnut, I decided to write my last poem, kind of like last will and testament which I’ve perversely
The dilemma of artist’s dress Painters, like Antonio Tapies, appear to be bank clerks, but as I observe other painters, they wear the same clothes.
I Feel Lightning in Your Wind I feel light in a thunderstorm. I electrify your touch through my veins. I’m the greenery around your life