Image Source: chiaralily/Flickr Torre de Belem Written by Caroline Murphy there's something so cruel in the stories we're expected to tell about places once we've left them, how the pictures should speak for themselves but only if they say the right things. if I spoke of the tower I could say how she rose from the sea like the hand of an ancient goddess crawling back towards the heavens, how the sky around her silently darkened from amber to obsidian, from everything to nothi

Image Source: Tatters/Flickr vitality (a collection) Written by Sophie Chiang :: before there were clouds we settled a long time ago, / before there were / clouds, / before the / beginning. / in this world we were created, / in this vast silence, there is nothing to / sustain life but this thin earthen shell: / a mound of dirt over a rock, / separated from the sky. sun / burning it, baking / it, birthing roots in / it until the earth turns into land: / motherly, soft, somethi

Image Source: Tobias Abel/Flickr Compatible Written by Philip Berry choose: the one with an easy laugh quick muscled + flash bone teeth in perfect time to tide & tone who catches tears to sip off pain but know this now, before you stitch divided hearts    /    nuanced responses born in cool calculus will come to fit like stolen skin, slipping soundlessly snug, smooth, till he no longer feels when feeling’s needed. Author Bio: Philip is a writer and poet with previous publicat

Image Source: Kevin Dooley/Flickr Skin history Written by Philip Berry A keloid worm lies across his child fresh knee Below the navel a ragged arc, punctate outriders Still palpable ten years after the surgeon placed her final stitch. Beside the spine an open wound Crimson lips that cannot seal, heart still beneath. Author Bio: Philip is a writer and poet with previous publications in on-line and print journals such as Lucent Dreaming, Poetry Birmingham, Black Bough, Consilie

Image Source: Shan Ran/Flickr To the Teachers Who Know Me Written by S. Rupsha Mitra I burdened a lot of you, With my synapses - unbridged, my lapses in attending to your words, admonishments, lectures that appeared lachrymose and rather vexing to me. I have turned off desperately, in fits of truancy – grudging at that thought of expressing the self in my incorrigible introverted space. But you have time and again in sweeps – embracing and caring wiped off the dark veils of b

Image Source: harmishhk/ Flickr attending an american carnival Written by Zarnab Tufail hold my drink, i am off to the seesaw that reminds me of all the times i have had decisions to make. pancakes (that i’ve never tried) or my mother’s parathas; a seesaw – but that’s an easy one. next book? a novel or an autobiography; a seesaw. which light to choose for a mini-shoot? the direct roller coasting sunlight or sundown reflection; a seesaw. a mental note to never compare seesaws

Image Source: Chilli Head/Flickr Poets, Help Wanted Written by Jason de Koff Poetry sets scaffolding, protection as things build, to be vulnerable to accept, new ideas in the world. Poetry draws emotion, creating safe space to feel, putting character, in the character limitations. Poetry enhances vision, descriptions anew, perspective with new angles, changing prescriptions each time. Poetry develops thinking, furrows for spring planting, as no pictures are hung, in the hallw

Image Source: Andi Pope/Flickr approaching Written by Paxton Calder i could smell it in the air, feel it in the rumbling core of my bones, in the tingle of my fingertips, & the cloudy haze that seemed to hang in the air around me, not willing to settle or dissipate, a certain humidity that could only mean one thing. i could see it in the way the wind picked up without a moment’s notice, & startled the leaves on the trees, making them tremble with fright all at once, igniting

Image Source: Jason Sebastian Russo #visualart #drawing #abstract #jasonsebastianrusso Tree of Blood Written by Jason Sebastian Russo (Listen to this poem's audio HERE ON SOUNDCLOUD!) this arm an old lady’s arm a crone’s arm why is it attached to me why is it wrapped in this tourniquet reaching out to type right before I conjure that perfect little tree of red blood that perfect red bloom so terrifying & finally so quiet Author bio: Jason Sebastian Russo is a writer,

Image Source: William J Serson/Flickr The Race Written by Shreesham Pandey All were diligent racing a 100m race. Some hoisted others on the way; Some crushed many on their track. But she was diligent in HOLDING HIS HAND. Diligent were their Inner lights. They savoured each thing they visually perceived. How wild their hearts tempt! ‘Better Than Others’ was what they kenned not. They were inditing their records – ‘THE BEST’. Author Bio: Shreesham Pandey is a vernal writer and

Image Source: Jason Sebastian Russo #visualart #drawing #abstract #jasonsebastianrusso You & Me Written by Jason Sebastian Russo crouching behind a bullet-ridden cinderblock wall haggling over the % of sadness our love contains developing an arsenal of subtle looks watching the musician’s hands and smiling knowingly   taking our clothes off to pray handing each other ratchets loving everyone who isn't us a little less each day   puzzling over pieces of an old roadmap patching

Image Source: Mike Harre/Flickr breakfast Written by Jessica Kim every morning we sit in front of a bowl of alphabet soup pondering over which letters to eat. should we eat the ones which spell out our names for us, when we do not even know how to read? we are still spoonfed on high chairs, crunching on the remains of identity. we outgrow letters, instead eating words: always craving for more than a mouthful. and soon they dissolve in the esophagus, leaving us choking on the

Fragments of Absences Converging Photographed by Jakky Bankong-Obi What the author says about the piece: "The photos where taken on two different foggy mornings while on a walk here in Abuja, Nigeria. I call them, 'Fragments of Absences Converging'. This is mostly because of the quality of degradation of the subject yet having some kind of flourishing along with it. It represents the fluidity with which living things are both alive and yet dying. The poignancy of it all." Pho