Category: The Metaphysics Before Us
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Points of Paradisimo by M. Pitter
Various parts of our planet have been popularly dubbed beautiful, considered to be paradise, Shangri-La, the vestibules of nirvana. Narrowing our scope to the radiant oceanic scenes, we see that these places can often take mastery over a person’s pleasure principle or, at least, pull a person into a trance; and she sinks into a…
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…by G. Mramor
Cold tears, a black string of cold tears down the passing rose in your cheek, from your eyes I gather pieces I once gave memories I take back love let it numb out quickly please, Winter surrounds, a cold wind lashes yesterday’s snow across the fire burning out embers yearning for heat, across our lying quiet…
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Speak my coldness to the air…by G. Mramor
, if you ever loved me, make for me a tower, and on her weathered body with a jagged rock write Colossus, fore once I knew and once more I shall know, in her body twist a stair to heaven and there aloft plant a tree, then bring my body into her and up to…
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life lines by C Duncanson
Cassie Duncanson is a student in Western Massachusetts studying English and Art History. She bakes like a 50’s housewife, and has a film camera I don’t use often enough because film is expensive. She works on an island off the coast of New Hampshire during the summers. Read more of Cassie’s work featured on IP. Life…
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This I have seen…by G. Mramor
You people, your beliefs are terrifying, you see skin before you look into the eyes you say other before you listen to them speak, and you bring tears to your children, fore you are a shame in your children’s eyes, they, when they have words for tears, when they have words their own, when they…
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I run I jump I fly…by G. Mramor
And watch earthsway as you longaway
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On desolation’s shore…by G. Mramor
I. ghosts I recall your ascension to the sun, and your return a ghost, you came to me on that shore recounting desolations and sand, and you watched me wrecked flotsam from a heart’s disappearance in the opal sea and you did nothing as fear and hatred dragged me down, and here am I, here are…
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Ram Island, 18:17, Thursday – Poetry Submission by M. Bowen
Matti Bowen is a graduate of Binghamton University, where she studied English and Cinema. A self confessed Knowledge Omnivore, she revels in the richness of human expression found in everything from blog culture, to science fiction, to home improvement television and Melville. She currently lives in the north Hudson Valley with her dog and far…
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Emma…by G. Mramor
His hands came to rest on her bare shoulders
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Return…by G. Mramor
Your body is an old dark place now
