Spyros Monopolis ΒΑΡΚΟΥΛΕΣ ΧΑΡΤΙΝΕΣ Ενώ στέκομαι στου πάρκου το γεφύρι παρατηρώ βαρκούλες χάρτινες στο ρυάκι να πλέουν μακριά – αγάπης τελευταίο γράμμα. Little Paper Boats While standing at the park bridge I’m watching little paper boats in the stream floating away – love’s last letter. Spyros Monopolis lives in Baltimore, Maryland (while his heart is […]
Read MoreJohn Hawkhead From spring to winter, the tick of my watch slowly winding down. John Hawkhead is a writer from the South West of England who, in 2021, won the Porad Haiku Contest, the Setouchi-Matsuyama haiku Grand Prix and was a Finalist in the Trailblazer contest.
Read MoreIan Willey A Glimpse of the Afterlife A line of souls snaked up the hill to a golden throne upon which sat Ozzy Osbourne magnificent with his mane and glasses as he moved his hand to the left or right thereby separating the good from the bad and the bad hurried down the hill to […]
Read MoreDavid Ngo What’s the Rush? In a pot prepared on burning beanstalks, the beans cry, “We are of the same root, what’s the rush to fry me? “This is a tanka version of the “Seven Steps Verse” (Chinese: 七步诗), a poem that is attributed to Cao Zhi. Here is a version found in Chapter 79 […]
Read MoreChristine Fulton In the New Year, what does it mean that no dog resolves to reach his step goals, cut back on treats, or track down his biological mother but I aspire to strut through rough surf, be less biting, and simply to sit? Christine Fulton loves family, herbal tea, poetry.
Read MoreDiana Morley Nibbling the soft center of buttered bread, remarking, how pampering the slathering how distracting from disquiet as if stepping over as if silking over as if the heart were part of the belly. Diana Morley is an old woman now, but she lies down often to keep those brain cells from drifting down […]
Read MoreKaitlyn McGowan Through Tired Eyes Tumbleweed bedhead frames your face, a treasure buried in bedsheets. Kaitlyn McGowan is an undergraduate English and Linguistics major studying at the University of Florida and writes for PRISM Honors Magazine.
Read MoreSteve Klepetar As If a song could occupy a whole room in your mind, so that as you lay sleeping, its verses rolled through your dreams, and you woke to a chorus of birds, whose voices lifted you so high in the air, you could lean to the west, watch the river flow like a […]
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