The Abstract Art Gallery
A writing gallery created by writers from around the world. From poetry to song lyrics, from essays to entire novels and short stories.
She looked around,
At everyone,
Who passed by,
Each one flawed in some way,
A scar, blemish, mark, impairment,
All of us the same,
Variations of imperfection,
She struggled,
To understand,
In accepting this view,
Why we expect people,
On the inside,
To be unblemished.
By Purple Pen
Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/purplepenpoetry
Read More…are gleaming with wonders,
The ways are waiting for a new adventure.
Scramming the haunted memories of past,
And facing the dynamic mystery of future.
Living the life, in such a glory,
That even misery will be afraid of its fury.
The aura of redemption is inextinguishable,
The lust for fame is impeccable.
The fire of vengeance is still on,
But the serenity of mind is not all lost.
Relinquishing the fear, buried inside us,
To embrace the prosperous…
By Arnab Majumdar
Website: https://dtranscendentalist.wordpress.com/
Twitter: arnab8_7
Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/arnab.acrylicx
Read More…surgery for what they suspected was a large hematoma but instead turned out to be a massive seroma infection right on top of my femoral bypass graph. I was left with a softball sized gaping hole in my groin. They couldn’t close it up because they had to remove all of my destroyed flesh. Twenty-four hours later I endured an attached muscle flap surgery that the surgeon said was even more painful than open heart surgery. They cut me from my knees to my hip bone, removed my outer thigh muscle—bent it sideways and filled in the hole. My…
By Bonnie Wheeler
Twitter: BonnieWheeler1
Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/bonnie.wheeler.58
Read More…slowly transitioning into old age, dad has learnt how to use the internet, basically to get acquainted to local news and hotly debated political issues. However, for some days, I had been noticing that he was busy reading some kind of story or blog in English. While I jokingly teased him from time to time for returning back to those old college days, reading English like a child (since most of his life was devoted to speaking French at work), I never took the time to actually listen to what he was reading aloud. Then that fatal day occurred when I figured out that what he was actually reading was an absolutely detailed sexual performance between the characters…
By Anonymous
Read More…sacrifices with her cancerous-pallors
eating men like air with black sweet blood mouthfuls
there beneath the bloody trap you’ll see
these hoods of bone don’t shine for we.
Lasso the neck for love is gone-
In the house of barn, the calm will come
put down your swords, the battle is won
The jar consumes the chime of the bell…
By Jasmine Dine
Website: https://theunsweetenedalmond.blogspot.com/
Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100015168728628
Read More…who till the land must not elevate their eyes to the skies. Shambhuka is an untouchable. Rama is casteist.
*
School had a great hall of sorts, where people gathered for various things. It was a long, wide, rectangular building made entirely out of hollow-blocks, crowned with a wooden frame on top like an inverted keel of the ship covered with red-oxide roof tiles. The windows were a leafy green and the walls, a slowly-fading-into-dusty-yellow white. Red for passion, white for peace and green for prosperity. The colours of human values.
We gathered in there for every morning for prayer…
By Sindhuja Veeraraghavan
Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/sindhuja.veeraraghavan.9
Read MoreMemories form the fabric of our identities: we encode, we store and we retrieve. Children's memories are often formed from play, games and fun finding. In an infant, memory is like sand used in a play pit. When shaken through a toy sieve most of the sand works its way through the grid and disperses. As adults to the grid is covered with a fine gauze mesh, most of the memories remain as they can't work through the holes. As toddlers, we make recollections from a smell, from sight, from touch, from what we hear, from indifference or…
By Alison Little
Website: http://alisonlittleblog.wordpress.com
Twitter: Alison05
Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/alison.little1
Read MoreSo I came to this bar it was dark and loud
When I entered the door I was hit by a cloud
It was D-Zuu-Wabba I knew it right away
Sickest dope on the planet straight out of Bombay
A rare dude came to me said he's name was Bobby Dope
White Russian in his hand, long hair and wearing robe
Had he's peak early 80s, nowadays in decay
Then he offered me the Wabba. Holy smoke it made my day
Now the D-Zuu-Wabba maybe not be known to you
It's an Indian blend from a root named D-Zuu
First they chopped it up, then they…
By Zycuna Cress
Website: http://zycuna.com
Twitter: zycuna
Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/zycuna/
https://youtu.be/G1cV7GKCeeQ
Read MoreThe tip of my knife keeps jabbing the life from the corpse on this night
On the tightrope, I slide to the side where the body I’ll hide
Hanging in plain sight invisible to the untrained eye
“Die, die, die!” I scream and I cry unable to control the words that go through my mind
And the red of the dead blood resting in bed with the body overhead hanging instead of buried where its meant to be
The hurry scared me and impulse scurried
The flurries of snow out the window crawl and build up blocking the light, FUCK! I can’t see shit
I must’ve fallen asleep. Is he still dead? Where would he be?
He’s gone, the rope hangs alone and there’s no clue
I don’t know where a dead man who came back to life would go
Do you?
By Amber Black
Read MoreWhat if my life was just a play
I watched upon a screen
From someplace far away from here
Some place I've never seen
What if events that had transpired
Were planned and calculated
All the things that I had done
Were carefully orchestrated
Would I watch in fascination
From that place so far away
Or would I just be bored to death
Each and every day
What if it was my choice to draw
The path my life would take
That things depended on the thoughtful
Choices I would make
Would it not be more intriguing
Playing out before my eyes
If it was up to me to solve
The puzzle of my whys
Wouldn't it be more fulfilling
To see the life I made
Where my free-will precluded
Engineered or readymade
Well I think that's just what we do
As we gaze out from the stars
We make our own life's happiness
Or create resultant scars
We do not need to intervene
From that place so far away
For we direct our own production
For as long as we can stay
By Sharon Cunningham
Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/sharon.cunningham.5076
Read More
