One Day

By April Capili

February will become an ordinary month
Released like the years odds and ends
Youths faded marbles browning cards dogeared books
Fed finally to unmarked bags and the freeing fire
Its days will pass undistinguished
All indifferent faces in the crowd
All lukewarm like life
Then the mind will wander no more
And knowing only the present
Will quit questioning itself
Where is she
Wouldn’t she love that word
Perhaps she still remembers when
February will become an ordinary month
Forgetfulness slips into freedom then


Photo by Alexandria Somirs

Advertisements

Lluvia

By Nikki Jin-Bo Li

It was on a rainy day that she said no
Lack of ambivalence
She uttered the monosyllable in a gentle tone

Unattainable or over-rated?
She didn’t wait for the answer
Or she was almost certain to have heard
The echo that pressed onto her heart

Left in a rush without a hush
She let the heavenly water cleanse her skin
Bereft of solitude
She rejoiced at the gentle touch

There was no sense of an ending
Yet all is beyond lost
All of a sudden she realized
Her umbrella was left in the past


Photo by Alexandria Somirs

Particles of feelings

By Irina Diacenco

A dark night with no stars, half a strawberry, a glass of milk after a day of alcohol intake, a cigarette on a rooftop at dawn…I wake up with the first rays of sunshine and as much as I love the brightness outside I just want to hide, pull the curtains and enjoy my darkness, fly and dream about an infinite journey through the sky with the devil. I taste the bitter flavours of dust that cover the shapes I want to touch. The more I have the more I want, I swallow the ice in pieces of frozen fruits and my only desire is to fill myself with the merging colours of emotions and feelings.

Read More

CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS

AnthologyTalismanPosterPWL

 “Talisman – anything whose presence exercises a remarkable or powerful influence on human feelings or actions”


Some say its magic is given, not inherent. Some say it must be created by the person who used it. Some say they are only made for one purpose. Some say it is imbued with the force it represents. Some say it is medicinal. Some say it comes from the words meant to say “to complete the ritual”.


What it is is what you grasp to get you through. It is here to stand for something else. It is the symbol, though of what you don’t know. It has power – to you, through you, for you, over you…you decide. Or does it?

Poetic Heart

By Alexandria Somirs

From start to end this slow beating drum

Quivers sparks through far reaching rivers

This way and that way this thump thumping sound

Reaching high thinking without fairly ticking

Slowly cautiously this beat this thump

Blindly erupts with a passionate bump

What could this be this thump thump thump

Nervous fluttering tingling the surface

Inside my cage my gentle beating drum

Learns to fly with slow and steady pace

Timidness keeps this thump thump thumping

As soft as a whisper and deep as the sea

This chest of mine with all its melody

Through time and space has found its key


Photo by Alexandria Somirs