Blood-choked cries and the shots heard ‘round the world did not quite reach Washington.
Parkland (2018) Ramon Kopsick
Knotted Hair – Madelyn Gibson
My sister stands behind me. I sit on a black folding chair. My head bobbles as she pulls my “friends” out of my hair. Even with her skills, it is still a daunting task and not for the faint of heart. She lathers in some special cream that only Empire … More Knotted Hair – Madelyn Gibson
Have You Not Noticed – Melodie Rolling
Have you not noticed (as you lie beside me night after night) that I (as well as you) long for the time when we did not lie beside each other but lay together
The Stygian Self – Travis Clayton Wright
A saber slashing freely at the page, A feral staccato dance built of Conte’ crayons, inspiration in a mirror of Titanium white, Mars black, Scarlet red. The Phantom face stretched in minutes– its life is frozen: a gray, paper continuum. “Who…? Who are you?”—yet speechless it returns a stare. … More The Stygian Self – Travis Clayton Wright
I Fried a Couple Eggs – Robert Wiemann
I fried a couple eggs and found my father in the pan. “Hello,” said the eggs, “… surprised you.” “Hi dad… you did.” I took a bite. “You look tired, son…” “I guess I am.” I took another bite. “You need more sleep… your mother wants to know if you’ve … More I Fried a Couple Eggs – Robert Wiemann
My Father’s Hands – Marie Bloom
Gray, marble-like hands with thick, sturdy fingers Awkwardly entwined in the rosary Well camouflage their owner’s past For these were the tools that once… Painted love on empty paper, creating a poem for mother Grasped the pick and shovel of manhood, taking wages from earthen bowels Gripped … More My Father’s Hands – Marie Bloom
A Medical Type of Love – Joseph H. Etienne
In those days, Our love smelled like formalin And our eyes would furtively meet over the anatomy notes To confirm a sweet promise–our sole tie In those days We had forsaken incredulous parents and skeptical friends. And to change the world, Just the two of us… Our heart … More A Medical Type of Love – Joseph H. Etienne
Grandpa’s Hands – Sherrila Levin
i have my grandpa’s hands, i have my grandpa’s hands. the hands of a man more my father than my father (or the folks i called “Dad”) hands of a man that taught me to count and clap hands that held my head as i cried [ah, sweet injustices of … More Grandpa’s Hands – Sherrila Levin
Hometown – Souleye Blanchard
Time seems to move in slow motion in this town On sunshine days the urge to find something different Something worth smiling for is difficult to shake And yet the oranges on the license plates All look luscious and ripe for the picking Nothing quite captures the feeling in … More Hometown – Souleye Blanchard