Tom Cowin
Cafe Brutalism Oh, I can see you now. I can’t yet. Oh yes, there you are. it could have been ages ago and a dream inertia is constancy we could regulate a symptom with occasional days shall we have coffee…
M.E. Muir
ON THE EXHIBITION OF ALMA TADEMA AT LEIGHTON HOUSE Barely the staircase Corinthian pillared would be brightening my mood on its gleamed ebony handrail with attendants hovering to protect your pictures for even the peacock does not lighten my fevered…
E.A.M. Harris
Parting and Departing Th’last time we walked yurr, thee ‘n’ me – old codgers – we was in short trousers. ‘Twas a raw day, remember? No! y’remember nowt. Y’mind’s woolly as an unshorn sheep; ‘ts given yer memory the slip.…
Rodney Wood
SCOUTS’ “AIDE MEMOIRE” IN RHYME hair is the barometer on men’s emotional life it stays all the way to old age, death and after temple fade, shoe, surfer, tapered or bouffant hair is the barometer on men’s emotional life rockabilly,…
Sanjeev Sethi
Morning Walk On the macadamized pathway mind shifts to Gorgon sisters, mythology and memory brew with breath. Even in thought you hew my heart with quill of words recited with rehearsed vehemence like we used to for contests in college.…
Zel Norwood
Hot fat You see, my compassion’s not lost. My will holds strong Even while my soul has to Sail ceiling-high To withstand you – An altered vantage point from where I see the striped earth wire Winking at me through…
Sneha Subramanian Kanta
Lunar Phases In concentric circles of same spheres — two branches of two trees conjugate at the spot where the moon resides in the sky. The empty street, I imagine — carries you, the one far — in clear images…
Michael Bartholomew-Biggs
Labyrinth We came up from the south ..........................................................a tad off- course already but nothing we need fuss about, we said, we’re close enough. And even as we sensed a further....... drift........ away and not towards we weren’t too much alarmed.…
Lawrence Upton
As you ask I did go to Auschwitz. It damaged me greatly; but over a long time, a time not yet over -- I wake to my old self, too often, recalling loss; I do not know what of; that…
John Porter
Where it had stood was now just holes and rubble, signs warning of wires and the house gone like a wrenched tooth. Wind making tentative flutters still respecting walls not yet aware they'd fallen, gently teasing and releasing glimpses trapped…