Category: Poetry
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And to the brave girl…by G. Mramor
And to the brave girl who writes a wrinkle on a moist page: ‘where is eternity?’ She asks her mother, she asks her father, she asks her kin, she asks her teacher, she asks her rabbi, she asks her God, and nothing
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Can you move on, beyond doubt?…G. Mramor
Can you move on, beyond doubt? Askant of a shimmurring sky: is this me, is this my voice, is this my heart? You can say: this is my blood, thus this is my spirit, and with some comfort tread onwards, but there is a malaise that hides in the code of the blood, a malaise…
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She was born to know the water…by G. Mramor
She was born to know the water. Although she always knew, that she was below the surface of the skin, in the bloodstream going back to the secret heart, awaiting the vision after a heart’s darkness, this vision never came to her, so she searched it out.
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for Souls – Poem by J.Gawrych
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Age of Information – Collab Poem by J Ramos & P Chatelain
Age of Information By Phillipe Chatelain, Joshua Ramos The brain versus the Internet. Both vast, controlling, Subject to manipulation by the masses.
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Who Coos to a Public Pestilence by E. Collins
the wind sifts specks of sand; the Trojan engine veils the benign auburn hue A grain of sand swept from a sinking bedding, joins the violent charge Challenged by the composite wind
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“I miss you to death.”
“I miss you to death.” I wanted to say this out loud and have something become of it. But I couldn’t because I knew nothing would. I could spell it out, arrange all the words on a page or on a computer screen and let them live there, and that’s where they’d stay; right where…
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She has a pretty face…by G. Mramor
She has a pretty face, and she wears her hat backwards far back, soft brunette streams down the sides of her face, a pesky strand pushed back as she counts money, she smiles a good bye and says hello, an order and more money she counts and returns three dimes to a smiling man, she…
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OBJECT OF THE CITY – Poem by J.Gawrych
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Taking Shots Alone – Poems by P Chatelain
Author’s note: This is an attempt at documenting silent musings oft-ignored. Please consume responsibly. 1 let’s chill out, light a cigarette in the sun, watching the smoke take shapes.
