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Ode to Covid Carers

Nobby66·May 23, 2020

Ode to Covid Carers written by: Nobby66 @douglas97_s To intensive care and virus wards each day In...

English Poetry

·1 min read

Lamenting Truths

Emma L Flint·May 18, 2020

Lamenting Truths written by: Emma L Flint @LiterateElf Isolated Alone Forgotten and afraid A life of confinement...

English Poetry

·1 min read

Confusion and Hope in The Time of #Corona

Asad Mian·April 14, 2020

Confusion and Hope in The Time of #Corona written by: Asad Mian @amian74 The muse has been...

Article English

·3 min read

A Worldwide Pandemic Poetry

Marian Wood·April 13, 2020

A Worldwide Pandemic Poetry written by: Marian Wood @MarianEWood The state of the world, the state of...

English Poetry

·1 min read

John Anthony Fingleton: Was born in Cork City, in the Republic of Ireland. Now living in Paraguay. Poems published in journals and anthologies in Ireland, UK, USA, India and France as well as three produced plays. Poems read on Irish and American radio as well in Spanish on South American broadcasts. Has poems published in Spillwords, Alien Bhudda, The Red Door, Piker Press, Super Poetry Highway, The Writers Magazine, Ariel Chart, and numerous national and international journals, blogs, reviews, and anthologies. Published collections 'Poems from the Shadowlands' was published in 2017, 'Words That Found Me' 2019, 'Poems From The Banks' 2020, 'Poems from a Restricted Place' April 2020, 'Secret Fjords' May 2020 and 'A Gathering Of Words' June 2020. All which are available on Amazon.

A Song for Christmas by Steve Carr

I was sixteen. Ma’s upright piano stood against the wall in the dining room where it had been since Ma and Pa were married. It was Grandma’s piano, but she gave it to my Ma as a wedding present. It was made of mahogany and Ma polished it almost every day. I was sitting at it just plucking randomly on the black keys when Ma placed a bright red runner across the top of the piano and, a few minutes later, placed the crèche on the runner. She arranged the figures of Mary and Joseph around the baby Jesus lying in a manger.
“You’re late puttin’ that out this year, Ma,” I said.
“Each year there are more and more boxes of Christmas decorations to sort through,” she said.
I strummed several keys with an unmelodic result and heaved a loud sigh.
“Have you decided yet which song you’re going to do for the Christmas service?” she asked ...

Features

Good To The Last Drop

An Unanswered Letter

THE BUSHMAN

Interviews

Spotlight On Writers – Barbara Avon

Spotlight On Writers – Francisco Bravo Cabrera

Interview Q&A With John Anthony Fingleton

An Unanswered Letter

Contagion is A Despot Poet

Celestial Celebration

The Warriors

Sweetie

Reflections of a Doctor-Turned-Patient III

Reflections of a Doctor-Turned-Patient II

Reflections of a Doctor-Turned-Patient I

healthcare

Ode to Covid Carers

Lamenting Truths

Confusion and Hope in The Time of #Corona

The Year of The Sickle

When The Poem Arrives

An Unanswered Letter

Tú, Belleza Del Mundo

Pandemic

The Warriors

Good To The Last Drop

Tomorrow There Is A Snake

Sztorm

Soul Kitchen

Nightly Promenade

A Winter Night