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The House of Strays

Tay Summerlin·May 9, 2021

The House of Strays written by: Tay Summerlin @esplendidatay Nick did warn me. He said that once...

English Literature

·20 mins read

Attitude

Karima Hoisan·April 14, 2021

Attitude written by: Karima Hoisan Dark days, sad days Chopin on a piano playing; grey skies, about...

Poetry English

·1 min read

Fresh

Megha Sood·December 5, 2020

Fresh written by: Megha Sood @meghasood16 There is nothing new in this world or the place where...

Poetry Haunted Holidays English

·1 min read

Bittersweet

Hannah B Jackson·October 7, 2020

Bittersweet written by: Hannah B Jackson You were like a natural waterfall surrounded by the most beautiful...

English Poetry

·1 min read

Crazy Talk

Nick Searles·May 28, 2020

Crazy Talk written by: Nick Searles @Nick_Searles Heard some chatter going ’round. Your ideas make my head...

Poetry English

·1 min read

Running Together!

Ger White·April 21, 2020

Running Together! written by: Ger White She raced her dog across the bogs Past mountainous tufts and...

English Featured Post Poetry

·1 min read

Alpha Male

R.C. Morgan·April 8, 2020

Alpha Male written by: R.C. Morgan “Are you ready for breakfast? Toast, cereal…?” Pete’s voice called. My...

Literature English

·2 mins read

The Thing About Oil Spills II

Godfrey Holy·January 1, 2020

The Thing About Oil Spills II written by: Godfrey Holy My neck no longer bears your cinderblocks...

Poetry English

·1 min read

Cracked Concrete Can Still Grow Weeds

Kerri Caldwell·November 26, 2019

Cracked Concrete Can Still Grow Weeds written by: Kerri Caldwell @KerriCaldwell19 This is who we are now...

Poetry English

·1 min read

Hell

Daniel Lynskey·November 22, 2019

Hell written by: Daniel Lynskey @daniel_lynskey What if this is hell? a place where your dreams don’t...

English Poetry

·1 min read

Blue Spacious Skies

Randal A. Burd, Jr.·November 19, 2019

Blue Spacious Skies written by: Randal A. Burd, Jr. @COLONELRANDAL Blue spacious skies meet greener pastures’ hue,...

Poetry English Featured Post

·1 min read

The Thing About Oil Spills

Godfrey Holy·October 16, 2019

The Thing About Oil Spills written by: Godfrey Holy I watch birds fly bid them farewell as they...

English Poetry

·1 min read

Still Kicking

Tylia Flores·August 8, 2019

Still Kicking written by: Tylia Flores @stompingoncp1 I’ve been through hell and back, my whole life has...

Poetry English

·1 min read

Lessons

John West·February 18, 2019

Lessons written by: John West She cried last night. Selfish tears, trying to have her own way....

Poetry English

·1 min read

Suman Pokhrel is a Nepali poet, lyricist, playwright, translator, and artist. He debuted in 1999 with a poetry collection and has since published works, including translations of Shakespeare and global poets. His poems are translated into many languages and taught across South Asia. A two-time SAARC Literary Awardee, he also received Asia’s Inspiring Poet Award and was named Author of the Month by Spillwords in June 2023. Beyond literature, he works as a freelance consultant in socio-economic research, rural development, entrepreneurial development and creative writing. He began his career in Nepal’s civil service and later worked with international NGOs. He holds degrees in Science, Law, Business Administration, and Economics.

Condoms by Seán Óg Ó Murchú

They all laughed at me. All the dinner ladies. It started with your one, I’m after forgetting her name now… Smelly Nelly’s ma. A wet little tear trickled toward her tattooed cheekbone. She was roaring red. Her harsh, wheezing laughter sounded like a black taxi tackling the Whiterock Road, her throat destroyed from all the fegs she used to be hoofing into her. She called over the other dinner ladies then, an army of them. Or maybe it was the curiosity of her horrid laughing that brought them over… I can’t remember.
“Tell the girls what you’re only after asking me there ni wee mawn.”
I looked between herself and the girls. Jesus Christ, I said in my own mind, Mental Mick is after stealing all my crayons that I’d been hoarding for myself there before the break...

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