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Old Words

Brad Osborne·October 10, 2019

Old Words written by: Brad Osborne Daily the grind To find the words To pen the line...

Poetry English

·1 min read

ELLIPSIS

Dilip Mohapatra·January 5, 2019

ELLIPSIS written by: Dilip Mohapatra @dilipmo When we walk together and I hear the lone cuckoo cooing in...

English Poetry

·1 min read

How Could I Tell Her

Tasos Kyrtasoglou·August 6, 2018

How Could I Tell Her written by: Tasos Kyrtasoglou She said “I‘ve known you before, that’s how I...

Poetry English

·1 min read

Words

Ingela·May 25, 2016

words written by: Ingela(saja) @ingelasaja Evil words can sting your heart, they linger on and rip apart....

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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