Poem: ‘Faerie Fire’ by Rye Jaffe
Faerie Fire From forests, fields and fens, fair folk are found, where witchery winds with…
Browsing: Literature
This Is The Leg I Use When I’m Thinking
His blue look was on the ground, as though it held the reason for the…
Poem: St. Patrick’s Day 2024
St. Patrick’s Day 2024 My dream takes me to the White House where Kelly green…
Poem: ‘Year of The’ by Haley Hodges
Year of The Restless at the kitchen table, year of our Lord twenty twenty-four, year…
Fiction: The Sea of Pearls
TEL AVIV – SEPTEMBER – 2023 Noah Artowski, by now a six-year veteran of the…
Hymn XI: Marc Di Saverio
HYMN XI Yeshua, O Yeshua, legions of demons are dying to drive the Holy Spirit…
Poem: Take me to Éire
Take me to Éire Please take me to Erin For I am twenty-seven; Reassurance I…
Poetry: Putriyana Asmarani
The Leap Down, down the stairs to the five pillars of pronounced architecture, Five entrances…
Wouldn’t You?
Summer was winding to its natural end but the evenings were still warm in London…
Poetry: Peter O’Malley
The Only Time Our Adult Hands Touched I was 29, he was 72 We were…
Poem: Fragments of a Litany
Fragments of a Litany Gaza, 2023-24 Grieve with the butchered gods of love for Layan…
Fiction: Yer Man
Inside the castle’s gift shop stood White, reading the biography of the artist whose work…
Poem – ‘Psalm’
Psalm The light and the wind on the water these wild winter days are breath…
A Poem for Refaat Alareer
A Poem for Refaat Alareer In the poem your butchers fear to breathe, the murdered…
Poem: No Record of Wrongs
No Record of Wrongs Love does keep a record of some things— your solitary walks…
Bliain an Áir – ‘The year of slaughter’ 1740-41
Bliain an Áir ‘The Year of Slaughter’, 1740-41 Around the earth, a warring, wooden sea…
The Death of Blake
The bed had been positioned deliberately near the window so the artist had a view…
Waking Up
Waking Up He had thousands of kodachromes when he died. Nowadays they’d be snaps stored…
How I Remember Her
How I Remember Her I glared that first night as she vaunted perks And spoke…
The Secret Garden
The leaves of Greenwich Park were the soul of Autumn as I walked slowly up…