Higgs-Boson Caress

/

…because I feel your energy and see your vibration, of so many colors.

There we are playing the game of 'tug of war,' who is able to pull the other over the fine line that divides us. Will that be you or me?!

The love that I feel and the desire that is with me also changes my colors, do you look at me in awe understanding how close we really are? Like the particles of those colors we are dancing with so many others we are blinded by the beauty we see.

Moving at the speed of light into…

By Tracey Albright-Goldblatt

Facebook URL: Facebook.com/tgoldblatt

Read More

Wedged in the Garden

/

…gingerly upon her knees, under the hot sun.

He sits upon the bench, watching her; his gaze steady and intent.

Delicately, but purposefully, she pulls pensively with her hands.

He urges her to pull just a little harder, "or it won't come out," he says!

She licks her lips.

He notices how charmingly her moistened lips glisten in the sun.

Expectantly, he looks down at her bent head, intent on the task at hand.

"Aaaah," he proclaims, as she cheekily leans back to rest on her heels!

Triumphantly, she holds her trophy in her soiled hands.

Delightedly, she proclaims, "Well,…

By Sharon Cunningham

Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/sharon.cunningham.5076

Read More

But He Don't Hear Me

/

…his minds somewhere.

He talks; I hear each word,

Listen; know what I’ve heard.

I hear all that he needs,

He tells me how he bleeds,

But he don’t hear me try,

Don’t know I’m gonna die.

I remember, its absurd,

Every lie and hurtful word,

And though he doesn’t hear me,

He often swears he loves me,

Brings home the daily bread,

And takes me to his bed.

Within I feel the way,

His words cut every day.

Says, I don’t like your friend,

You’re not seeing her again,

Or you’re not working there.

Or! Hey! What’s with your hair?

Girl you’re…

By Roger C Horton​​​​​​​

Read More

The Beginning

/

…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

The Truth About June

/

…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

A page in the diary of a sinner

/

…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

Thunder Woman

/

…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

On Segregation and Saushilyam

/

…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 More

Our Saviour

/

Memories 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 More