Afternoon of July 15, 2024

 

Behind the colourful city

~Ah-young Dana Park



Geese line

the volleyball

sand pit.

They are

starting

their weekend

ahead of

schedule.

~Beth Gulley




the monsoon rain

resurrects a dry river—

giant snake

~Tejendra Sherchan




wherever

there is riversong

I am not alone

~Jennifer Gurney




assassination attempt

sniper and photographer

both shooting

~John J. Dunphy




the Wu Wei of showing a fly the door

~Patrick Sweeney




we were only told to stay off the third rail

~Patrick Sweeney




I and I by and by one world

~dan smith




he had the wrong head for this century

~Patrick Sweeney




And at last


And at last,

At the end of the play,

The small fries are killed.

~Partha Sarkar



circling between buildings

the hawk swoops

a white plastic bag

~Padma Rajeswari Tata




there were many golden bracelets & robes

purple-perfumed, ornate trinkets

before they turned to war trophies

~Fhen M.




A signal far from the soul


The stagnancy in the afternoon.

No positive human touch in the journey.

I listen only to the birds, the rustling

And a signal far from the soul

A green flute played by the tree.


Move on my brightest thoughts towards the evening.


A night with the fairytale lulls me to sleep


I am prepared to run tomorrow.

~Partha Sarkar




My Pigeon Feet


are moved by pain and joy.

Damp soils cake the yard

as paled bones extend past vines –

growing, searching, feeling.

They feel the warmth of the doormat,

resting their soles under blankets of wood.

Nails kneading away at the intricate texture,

My pigeon feet prance around in butterfly steps.

As Grandmother likes to call them,

loving, searching, feeling.

~Sigrid Kim




he was the kind of guy who felt the pains of the world coming up through the soles of his Hush Puppies

~Patrick Sweeney




he showed off his new crown in the middle of the fish fry

~Patrick Sweeney




child's art

on her father's car

screwdriver markings

~Tuyet Van Do



the Pompeii fresco could be any poet

the pixelated boy could be me

reminiscing what was beautiful & pure.

~Fhen M.




Diversity in One

~Ah-young Dana Park

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