poems by Sara Pleșa-Popescu
The Railway There used to be a railway line in our home, but our house was made of stone and steel. We used to hide from trains right to the windows and look over the smoke wreathed hills,
poems by Moldvai Barna
emptiness what a prologue seems like is a canvas painted on the knife who knows if it’s real or just a haze inside are two false faces in the triangle phase both veils fall once the trance is closed and the real story can rise to be composed.
Discipline
by Ana Bazac An important aspect of the human relationships and positions towards norms and even towards values is discipline or, better, the degree of discipline: and certainly, its feedbacks to relationships, norms and values. The pandemic has emphasised just the shortcomings of this necessary order in society and, more, of this accepted order.
Another irrelevant title
by Mario Șerban The limit of pain is just a greater pain and so on. Maximum pain is a myth. So, what’s the point of complaining? You will never share a nervous first kiss and both look away smiling and blushing afterwards. You will never be kissed on your cheek at random by your girlfriend […]
poems by John Grey
History Repeats I sat out on the sun deck watching history repeat itself. My next-door neighbor left for work. His kids headed off to the school bus stop.
Night Visit
by Z. I. Sadeq 1 Behold me!– Cowards and last men! It is me, the not-man. My soul is marked
poems by Livia Creț
Fries I’m gonna take a great time talking about fries And nothing else Fries – meaningless, right? But doesn’t it soothe you?
Science as a factor of tradition and change: some methodological remarks
by Ana Bazac My first point is to show that, between the cultural traditions, there are not only particular/specific elements which would have forged and would forge the culture of a people, but also universal elements. These universal elements intertwine with the other ones, are transposing through the other ones: their translation through and by […]
poems by DS Maolalai
A cabin fire. from the window, behind curtains, rain cracks like logs in a cabin-grate
Pulling the Arms and Legs off Progressive Populists
by Colin James The neglected house was visible only from above. Perfect for a bird