Six Umi and one Mori Haiku following bright sun alone, he surfs a strong wave with a young dolphin seen in clear water bright life on a coral reef illumination a tiny seahorse sleeps in tropical sea grass and moonlight falls down drifting on currents wishes lost in old bottles many horizons in cold waters deep sad songs of the lonely whales mourning lost ones loved sea salted sands shift into the greens and blues then the yellow sun bright sun warms noon day overripe apples hang low –sticky, drunken bees *** Julie Brinson has previously published random poetry in numerous independent, underground literary magazines and journals in the 1990s. She has written various Internet articles and essays in the years since. Two short poetry collections: Courage…
“Squid Eyes,” A Short Story by Lisa Sita
Every time Amanda cried black ink, people thought it was her mascara running. Sometimes a concerned fellow female, in trying to be helpful, would recommend that she try a waterproof variety, since there were so many on the market and were actually quite effective at preventing embarrassing smudges. She always tried to explain after politely thanking these women that she was not wearing any makeup, but they never seemed to believe her. Amanda’s parents first noticed the color of their daughter’s tears when she came slipping and sliding out of the womb at Lenox Hill Hospital one early winter morning. As soon as the cord was cut, little Amanda’s eyes spouted like tiny oil wells that ran and dribbled into the creases of her new baby flesh. The doctor who delivered her and others who were consulted could find no reason for it. Thinking first that the black tears…
Martha Engber – Two Poems of Vulnerability
The House Once there was a house. Once there was a choice. The house was made of inside, while the choice lived outside. Before that, there were many other choices, all outside, too, but that could be gotten to because the house had a door that opened, allowing a going out and a coming in, and had, and did. But then came this choice, of surprise and delight and innocence, more than any other. A choice made wholly of outside, it could not come in, but rather must be gone to and embraced. Surprise. Delight. Innocence. Yet a choice to which the responsible door should not open. The house suddenly so bounded, so permanent, so… shut. The windows, with their crosshatched bars, gazed out at…
Rhode Island Author Expo – FREE Virtual Conference
This Saturday, December 5th, The Association of Rhode Island Authors (ARIA) is holding their annual Author Expo virtually. Anyone can join: no Rhode Island ID needed! Each year, ARIA does an outstanding job bringing local writers, speakers and resources for writers (like us) together for a day of networking, teaching about the craft of writing and selling books from independent and small press authors. Even if you do not plan to attend, we encourage you to check out the local authors participating in the event, where you can find their books for sale. Please help support these hardworking writers! Jack and I have been attending this conference for many years now. We were introduced to it by FC member and contributor Mike Squatrito. At the conference last year, we met Michael Piekny, one of our…
“Memories Like Scars,” Poetry by Topper Barnes
Memories like Scars There is a 22-year-old somewhere Buried beneath the layers of abuse Curled up like a starving street cat Its fur caked with grime, oil, and feces Those star speckled marble eyes Bulging from the frail skull And the shy stomach purring While the confident takes its milk With a trowel she can be found A bit of digging and smoothing over With time Her blistered lips that have been Bitten by glass roses Will heal The gory craters dotting her face Torn open during 4am battles With invisible insects Will recover Her skeleton will grow a new coat Night by night Day by day Meal by meal A shape will appear where a spike Once stood And those tear tracks dipped In mascara Running down her cheeks Simply vanished With a…