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Phyllis P. Colucci·April 12, 2020

COVID-19 PANDEMIC War On The World written by: Phyllis P. Colucci @FictionTarot You came like a thief...

Article English Featured Post

·3 min read

NYC Lights

Sophia Behal·December 9, 2019

NYC Lights written by: Sophia Behal The World round? Or flat as Ground? Interlaced everywhere, connected and...

English Poetry

·1 min read

N.Y. BUMS

James Marchiori·July 20, 2019

N.Y. BUMS written by: James Marchiori @DJames1821 A day out or in, abroad, indoor in consequence. How...

English Poetry

·1 min read

One day does not make seventeen

Anne G·May 14, 2016

One day does not make seventeen #MyBrooklynMemoirs by Anne G One day does not make seventeen. Although...

Anne G English Featured Post My Brooklyn Poetry

·1 min read

Brooklyn Scapes

Anne G·August 25, 2015

Brooklyn Scapes A Tale by Anne G The more I think about “My Brooklyn” childhood, the sweeter the memories…...

Anne G English My Brooklyn 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

THE BUSHMAN

The Year of The Sickle

Solving The Sandman Series

Interviews

Spotlight On Writers – Francisco Bravo Cabrera

Interview Q&A With John Anthony Fingleton

Spotlight On Writers – Ingrid

Saturday Library Visit, 1977

The Maple Cottage

Tear Shards

Skateaway: The Pond

The Aliens

1920

A Haunted Breakfast With Nana

New York City Shrouded In The Mist

NYC

COVID-19 PANDEMIC

NYC Lights

N.Y. BUMS

One day does not make seventeen

Brooklyn Scapes

Solving The Sandman Series

Long After The Argument

The Year of The Sickle

Of Dreams and Delirium

A Liberating Dynamic

Ruxx’s Present

THE BUSHMAN

Pandemic

Tú, Belleza Del Mundo

Then It is That Love is Born…

Different Journeys

Soiled White