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Eaten Alive

Jim Bates·December 1, 2019

Eaten Alive written by: Jim Bates Maybe it was my delirium. Maybe panic. But suddenly I could...

English Literature

·12 min read

Blue Plastic Pool

Kelli J Gavin·October 16, 2019

Blue Plastic Pool written by: Kelli J Gavin @KelliJGavin My mother sat for hours in the front...

English Poetry

·1 min read

Quiet Time

Michael Natt·October 6, 2019

Quiet Time written by: Michael Natt This Saturday began like all others. Today though was my annual...

Article English

·2 min read

Father’s Day

Michael Natt·June 16, 2019

Father’s Day written by: Michael Natt I grew up in New York City as the oldest of...

English Literature

·3 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

An Unanswered Letter

THE BUSHMAN

The Year of The Sickle

Interviews

Spotlight On Writers – Francisco Bravo Cabrera

Interview Q&A With John Anthony Fingleton

Spotlight On Writers – Ingrid

When The Poem Arrives

An Unanswered Letter

Starry Night

Paradise

To Hold A Hand

Friends

Home For The Holidays

Minnesota

Eaten Alive

Blue Plastic Pool

Quiet Time

Father’s Day

Solving The Sandman Series

The Year of The Sickle

Tú, Belleza Del Mundo

Tangled Love Affairs

When The Poem Arrives

Pandemic

An Unanswered Letter

Contagion is A Despot Poet

Celestial Celebration

Only Now

Madness

When The Poem Arrives