by Carlos Daniel Martinez
I want to go to a desert,
Where nothing can bother me,
Where I won’t bump into anything,
To close my eyes for minutes walking for miles,
To anywhere where I don’t have it planned out,
My eyes shall not guide me anywhere,
It shall be my mind.
by John Tessitore
for Emma
Today the sun was a friend,
a hand on the shoulder,
like a father.
by Sheeks Bhattacharjee
There’s a place I know,
not too far from home.
I first went there at sunset
and I had never felt
so
alone.
Read More »by Ann E. Michael
small blotch the shape of an imagined continent or aRead More »
wing’s purple imprint. Such amazement.
by Geoffrey Aitken
i imagined my
hideaway
in secluded
high mountain country
by Michael Shoemaker
Winter could have been conspicuous
showy or ostentatious
if not for its timorous silence.
No rustling of dry leaves
as a deer approaches.
Read More »by Chey Dugan
I was admiring the aristocratic Grande Dame portrait on a Tuesday afternoon; a day when the Abruzzo Museum of Art History is hauntingly inactive and I’m free from the perturbed looks I get from the usual late-week crowd. I’m reluctant to admit, but somewhere along my embryonic development my Pavlovian wires got crossed and because of these ritual Tuesdays, I could just exist in my oddity. I would thank myself at the end of the week for getting this out of my system.
I was deep within myself and sure I was alone until you interrupted and said, I like what you’re doing with your face.
Read More »
The Amazine Community 