poems by A.E. Baconsky
[Five Poems from Corpses in the Void] translated from Romanian by Ștefan Bolea Prophetic Anatomy There isn’t any poison left only some pale fluids the sunburnt tongue cries in agony
poem by Z. I. Sadeq
Moonlight During the faint hours of night the moon beckons to me.
Our Matchmaker was an Autonomous Car
by Jonathan Ferrini I checked in to the venerable hotel sitting atop Nob Hill in San Francisco greeting the cable car riders ascending California Street. It appeared in many well-known movies and afforded fantastic views of the Golden Gate Bridge and San Francisco.
Honestly
by Kenneth M. Kapp “Honestly!” Little Bonny J waived her hands in the air. “Honestly, Mom, I didn’t eat those cookies. A girl has to be careful to keep her figure youthful. Even when you’re eight that’s important. You’ve told me that umpteen times. See, I do listen!”
Helicopter
by Zygmunt Nowak Solinski Invited round. Small, wild garden with children. Stupid kids. Look at them, playing football. How can you talk with them kicking that bloody ball around? It’s going to hit …
The Wheel
de Ștefan Bolea Is Schopenhauer right? Is life just pain and suffering? To put it differently, aren’t the positive aspects of life prevalent? Nietzsche’s famous yes comes to mind. Was it the yes of a masochist seeking an ideal escape route? This yes, like the affirmation of the overman, bears a distinctive utopian feature. Yes to […]
Yiannis
by Kenneth M. Kapp Avrum couldn’t remember his own name. In truth, he’d forced himself to forget his name a long time ago: months, years, centuries ago. He laughed once, recalling that one year in a dog’s life is like seven of ours. “Ha, then I’m living one dog’s life for my mother,” and […]
The Cave
by Douglas Young “How much longer before we get there?” Zelma asked from the back seat’s right window. “Yes!” Tucker exclaimed with one hand on the wheel and the other hitting the roof of his old car. “Thank you, Zelma. I bet Nolana you’d ask within twenty minutes of our leaving, and I […]
The Legend of Yellow Boots
by Raayan “It is not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves.” [Sir Edmond Hillary] 15th May 2021, 13:30 Hrs, at about 8,300 m altitude on the Northern ascent route of Mt Everest Norbu, a 39 year old seasoned Sherpa who had conquered Everest’s perilous slopes quite a few times, was now facing a blizzard […]
poems by James G. Piatt
The Haunting Thoughts of War Voices screaming at the unreality of haunting visions of battles stormed through my mind as the sinking moon flowed into the darkness of the unforgiving horizon.