by Modesty Sanchez
With every passing minute, every punitive increase in temperature, every dreary mile of unchanging desert, we were brought closer and closer to our destination.
by Marc Isaac Potter
As you look at the contradiction
Your teenage years are a raging fireRead More »
A silent short film by Reece WrightRead More »art, artists, creators, culture, curiosity, joy, love, magazine, online zine, passion, short film, the amazine, webzine, wonder, young love, youth, zine
by Ollie Shane
This poem goes out to those bored in infinite zoom meetings
Putting down a half formed sonnet to fill the void where notes of summation should be
Song of the Week, #9
— Lucinda Chua, An Ocean (from her album YIAN, 4AD, 2023)
The waves swallow me whole Tides carry me home Then it hit me Like an ocean, an ocean
What’s your song of the week/month/year?
Views of an Indian Village at Dawn
by Shamik Banerjee
Far, mid the mountain slopes, rises the sun
and the Pipit, hints the day has begun.
The ocean’s face, welcomes the sky in blue
and tunes appear from the nest of Cuckoo.
In pots with readiness, the new flowers,
twirl with glee towards the gleamy showers;Read More »
I’m Secretly a Monster But Don’t Tell Anyone
by Erin Mullens
I fling back my elegant neck, sipping flowery rosé
As the jewel encrusted birds flutter about the glamour
Resting precariously on the edge of my shoulder.
Every word is a golden lie, a bit of thread I twist
Hard, to weave together a beautiful tapestry.
If I just look like a rainbow on a green hill
They won’t see the demons fighting in the palm of my hand.
Under the table, my legs shake and my ankle bounces
I am terrified that someone will see through my illusion.
by Aleena Sharif
Synthetic Apparitions Of Not Being Lonely
Read More »
Quote of the Week, #9
So long as you are not actually ill, hungry, frightened or immured in a prison or a holiday camp, Spring is still Spring. The atom bombs are piling up in the factories, the police are prowling through the cities, the lies are streaming from the loudspeakers, but the earth is still going round the sun, and neither the dictators nor the bureaucrats, deeply as they disapprove of the process, are able to prevent it.
– George Orwell, Some Thoughts on the Common Toad
April Is the Cruellest Month
(After T. S. Eliot’s “The Waste Land”)
by R. S.
April is the cruellest month,
Harbinger of hope, summer’s prelude;
Springing daisies, springing lilacs,
At best a fleeting interlude.