Poetry
Nostalgia
He stares at me strangely This son of my mine He catches me smiling When there’s no reason or pantomime I’ve wondered down memory lane
He stares at me strangely This son of my mine He catches me smiling When there’s no reason or pantomime I’ve wondered down memory lane
It was odd what had come over Jake’s parents. Usually they argued. Sometimes violently. But this morning it seemed they had found some sort
On lofty land The pure savage bird Builds its eyries With plenty of benign Dark from the human race The majestic Eagle, Flaps its mighty
Here I am again, back to the beginning, Temporarily happy, with this torture cycle That’s never-ending. Thought things would change when I went through those
Virescent lines drawing curves of hills I worship every time I recall her figure, Douglas firs aligned Rivet memories from our first kiss How dry
The news about the murder of a 26-year-old Indian Vet named Priyanka Reddy is circulating the Internet. For those who are not aware, Priyanka was
Blurb: It tells the story of two sisters in France during World War II, and their struggle to survive and resist the German occupation of France.
Dear girl who had a shoddy past, I am hoping that we will never meet again and therefore writing this letter to talk to you,
Ma, You say psychology was your favourite subject. Then why is that you fail to understand me? You ask me “What problems can you possibly
For years, we smelled smoke. The facade was on fire, still measurements went un-taken. Flames carelessly set by those who ignited lives as if humans
When the sun doesn’t shine And dreams are no longer mine When hopes run out And volcanoes no longer shout When all the oceans
I’ve been to far off places, Not one of them were as queer as you. You’re like a strategy dug so deep, I sense sadness
Once upon a time, I was a person who made the bold claim: ‘I don’t like short stories.’ Imagine that, just writing off a whole
“If you just read one book this year, read How to Walk Away.” — Nina George Margaret Jacobsen has a plan. She has worked
‘Echoing the thoughts behind Leonardo Da Vinci’s quote that “simplicity is the ultimate sophistication,” The Minimalist Babe teaches you how to value the simple things.
Translated by Ann Goldstein NB: A free copy was gifted in exchange for an honest review. We all have our favourite authors, the ones
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Until you let go of what hurts you,
screaming won’t ease the pain.
The day stars new all is peaceful at sun up a fresh strong breath of tree’s The Christmas tree is filled with a thousand memories
The Walls We Build: “There is loneliness in this world so great that you can see it in the slow movement of the hands of
I’m skilled at bottling up my feelings but I’ll burst if you shake me. one pull at a loose thread and I come apart at