Tag: Writing

Welcome to your new artistic fix.

Spoken Word Event Review: Where Love Meets The Waves (Ireland)

Kevin Bateman hosts live poetry performances from places of natural beauty or spiritual significance, primarily in Ireland. An event takes place Feb 17 at the Phoenix Park (County Dublin, Ireland) – more details on that can be found at writing.ie. Last summer he led a troupe of his fellow poets and writers to the Cliffs…
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Rezanoff Drive, by Glenn Nelson

I can no longer remember certain things about the past. Faces dissolve…. A gentle touch… gone… like a candle blown out by the wind. There are still shapes in the fog…. A sort of lingering form in the darkness. I can still remember the disjointed rattling of the el train as it passes by my…
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Having Guts by Elizabeth Cunningham [World Class Adventurer #2]

As I enter into my fifth month in Japan and my 27th birthday looms just one week away, I can’t help but feel a sense of existential dread on a level I’ve never experienced before. I wonder if my guardian angel is still out there or if she’s given up on me the same way…
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Syria and the Middle East refugees in poetry

The Number Five, by Delaney Daly

Chalkida is broken in the fall & its vivid cliff side colors can’t save me anymore home base is 50 minutes south, but home is 5,000 miles west a 5-year-old girl loves my grey eyes her Arabic words fill them with blue from the Black Sea she only swam here he doesn’t call anymore she’s…
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Poem about cancer and chemothrapy

Sickness, by M. Sakran

There’s a sickness, when someone attaches, a chemotherapy pump, to a hole in your chest, while smiling. # M. Sakran is the author of a collection of poetry entitled First Try, a self-published eBook of poems with explanations called Understanding: poems with explanations, and has also written a number of items for magazines and websites.  M. Sakran’s poetry related…
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Short fiction

All of Saint Peter’s Associates, by Jihoon Park

Saint Peter sat at his desk, doing figures. Stacks of papers were strewn across his desk as he typed away on a small desktop computer. The only other object on his desk was a small, incandescent and insufficient lamp. At first he was against the idea of going digital. He had used ink on honest-to-god…
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Hall of Reptiles, By Fred D. White

Chester raked a pocket comb through his son’s hair near the entrance to the Hall of Reptiles. “Your mop never stays in place, just like the rest of you, Murph.” He tilted the boy’s head with both hands to inspect the combing. “I suppose that hee-haw step-daddy of yours don’t teach you much about appearance.”…
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Glaciers, By Cassandra Cervi

(an experimental poem: drawn from Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse-5, and Hemingway’s Hills Like White Elephants) All this happened, more or less. The Lord rained brimstone and fire upon Sodom and Gomorrah. Only stones remained. Like the moon. The line of hills, they were white in the sun. Like white elephants. The country was brown and dry…
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