The Hanged Man I am writing to report that I am in a most uncomfortable position, immobilised as I am between the shutters and the wall of my fair apartment, hanging by a shoestring from my left hand foot. The blood has surged to my upturned head. I’ve heard an Algerian boy say it’s bad for your health. I didn’t believe him at the time but now I’m not so sure. I reflect on this as I hang in the cool night’s breezes. How? You may well ask, am I stuck like this and that is a most welcomed nuance of yours....
My Tryst With Bapu It was late in the night when I entered my room , extremely tired, unable to think anything, thus without changing I fell on my bed and the last words I heard before sleeping were from my friend Ritesh "Apurv, good night ......” But unlikely, it was a night that made me think the most, forced me from not thinking anything to ponder over everything, a night that triggered my mind and left me feeling relentless.......... After a long jejune schedule and my usual fight with Matko(Kamakshi), I was...
Moon Diamond The moon was bright. Not quite full, it shone its silvery glow down on the fog misted yard, making each little bump in the uneven landscape a hill, each little blade of grass stand out on its own like a marble pillar. It distorted everyday objects and gave an eerie light to the small farm. A slammed screen door below broke the mystical silence like a gunshot. Two mist blurred figures emerged from the old farmhouse, one walking at a faster pace than the other. The moonlight reflected off...
Midnight I would love to dress myself in midnight, It is my instant inspiration when it’s near Want to smell the air before I take a bite, Swallow it down to suffocate my fear. I would wear the stars along my neckline, Absorbing radiance into my pastel skin. Want to lose my insecurity; become divine, Want to cry raindrops of liquid porcelain. I would crumble the moon into tiny bits, And toss them up like glistening confetti. Want to laugh before the dull daylight hits, Want to hold the moving twilight...
Father's Man I was about nine years old when my father started teaching me to be a man. He used to observe, with mute indifference, the silly, childish things I used to do: like cry on rainy mornings because I was being asked to go to school, or shriek when a rat or a cockroach (we had a lot of those in our home) ran across my leg, or refuse to eat the beans because Mama agreed she saw weevils while picking them. But sometime after my eighth birthday, my father started speaking and acting up. “Wipe those...
What Else She is a goddess Rules the crimson river That flows in my vein Her reign is a constant torture Of sprawling homeless urges Seeking a path to rage Each time her cold touch Winds the erratic waves My flesh turns eroded Clatter, shiver, I plead To ease running heaviness From swollen tunnel, but No! My sac swallows The burning weight To languish the long paddling Wrecking my wooden cliff To the abyss of deafness Many a time, I fetched Sacrifice of hundred hearts Still her thought is stony Her...
another december poem the sky is grey with uncertainty, like i'm not the only one holding my breath and fluttering my arms around like an overweight tuna fish. every day is a battle of surviving, but i don't want to just survive. i love myself too much. the nights are colder than i remember. i tell dad, you can feel the wind in my room, and hold his hand over the crack of the window. when in love, i’ve realized, i am much more sensitive to the absense of heat, it recalls loneliness. i've resorted to wearing socks...
SEEKING LIGHT I seek light Not of the generate kind From power holding companies Or the Chinese machines Broadcasting toxic fumes To serve material appliances I seek light That is sweeter than life To light my eyes to perceive Beyond a visual see Light of an awesome radiance And purity to light my life path I seek light Light of sublime revelation To illuminate my salvation Light that here and after Would forever glow as Living fruits of a souls conscious thirst I thirst for light From the realm beyond human...
Hospital Room Never before has he seen the pristine white of a hospital room. He opens his eyes and closes them again. There’s so much white, too much white. He associates white with purity and this makes him uncomfortable. He moves his eyes without moving his head, taking a quick look at the woman next to him. She lies there, pale with a soft red scratch on her face, if scratches can be soft. She looks helpless, almost like those bunnies he encountered on his morning jogs. She looked like a baby. This made...
Clara I have lived my life with the sensation of being chased, constantly. When I write it is the only time that I feel still. It is a way of wrapping words around life which has come to mean everything to me. My story, this story, does not begin with an ordered world. This story does not wait for the words. It begins with a Hurricane, wordless, but by no means breathless or silent. ~ Part One- The Hurricane The BBC forecasted 'very windy weather' for the worst storm to hit England in 284 years....
Destination As soon as I get off of This crazy nine to five; going to relax in your arms Where my comfort lies. Kick back and let go Of the frustrations of the day; Melt into your love Let the presure slip away. Counting minutes as they go My imagination roams; To the place where waters are calm As soon as I get home.
Sardines Some say the Christmas holidays are stressful because of busyness and having a tight budget. I have always been one to disagree with this notion. I think holidays—whether it is Christmas or Fourth of July—become what you make them. If one expects an over-commercialized, fretful holiday, that is what will be had. However, some events pop up at holidays that are completely unexpected and impossible to prepare for. My sophomore year of college I started dating the man who would become my husband....
Merlin Merlin It was never certain if the merlin dismissed the sparrow as just another meal or if the gods of flight demanded one more sacrifice. I watched as the fleet-winged falcon flew from the canopy an arrow from an archer's bow bent with silent praise or content with easy pray. Neil Ellman lives and writes in New Jersey in the USA. He has published numerous poems in print and online journals, anthologies, broadsides and chapbooks throughout the world.
3 Appalachian Poems COAL DUST There are times when death rushes by silently, Unnoticed; But there are times when we invite them deliberately For one who has sought this meeting it could be a Fatal encounter. There are those who wear no masks Who they are and what they are doing may depend On the dark of night Or from the light of day For there is no time when evil sleeps, soon to be There at all times, even the dead can still be dead There is a feeling as if time has been suspended That the past and future...
Abiku Abiku by Habib Abayomi {A story about spirit children who die before adulthood tormenting their mother and going back to their place of abode) The tree in the morning sang like a wave in the forest. It was as if the trees were speaking in tongues of its gigantic nature of worshipping God in the morning. The morning sun had appeared from the serendipity of the west, smiling like a rotten egg. It was as if Segilola was imprisoned in the shackles of the university of life, as she opened the...
blood tie blood tie