Humans are meant to move. To be more specific, existence of life means body movement. Every living being, seen or unseen is in movement. As a human, our body contributes to our life through movements of eyes, hands, legs, etc. as well as our heart. When the heart stops beating, there is death! Long ago, when… Continue reading Classical dance: The Ultimate Beauty of Body Movements by Shuvroneel Sagar
Dirty Laundry In the tub another scent falls. I have to keep your coveralls Separate from my undies, To not mix sharp with ivories. Yesterday folds flat unflattered. Today is still unhampered. A pocket kept key is a find, Spinning the churning inside. A cool down cycle cannot chime, Till stains are… Continue reading Poetry by Misty Rose
Incarnadine Have you ever held up a flashlight Behind the webbing in your fingers Seen the light come through Like looking into your bloody flesh?
Aphrodite 2017 The stylish haircut rests on a searching teen-aged face: freckled nose, pale grey eyes, cropped hair colored magenta. The absence of arms is arresting. Prostheses fit to nubs of flesh – when clothed, they pass. Gripping tender flesh grimly to do their work, the arms feel alien, even after six… Continue reading Poems by Ginna Wilkerson
Crank shrapnels I found this song in the middle of dark places and piercing catchwords, formaldehyde air and an unplaced Requiem that wears a rhythm that resemble me so much – This song was sang in a distant place where gloom was chiefly in a communal fest and it feels just like here… Continue reading Poems by Oluwapelumi Francis Salako
love the skin you’re in i used to hate my body because it was not like those of models or actresses despised my eyes because they were brown and not blue my hair because it was gold, red, and brown without being just one of these like all the other girls i… Continue reading Poems by Linda M. Crate
Woman beneath the Sheets It rained the night before and it rained on a woman beneath the sheets. I was there, perched at a corner and stared for beneath the sheets was a woman― my mother. I could not speak for my mouth was already a graveyard swallowing her bits by bits. … Continue reading Poem by Chinua Ezenwa-Ohaeto
The Curse of the Red River “My body is aching and my soul is seeking. I am not myself again. I want some time to regain,”
Justice for the Body I heard somebody was criticizing my body..
Celebrated Scottish poet Tessa Ransford emailed me about Japanese poet Bun Hasijume – ‘Poet Bun Hasijume had a narrow escape from atomic bomb attack in Hirosima during Second World War. In case you are going to Japan try to make a visit to her too’. Tessa’s email instigated the interest and curiosity of the writer… Continue reading Memoir: Poet who Survived Hiroshima Atomic Bomb Attack by Bhisma Upreti