Author / Drake Trampe
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Opalescent Flight and When Sea Billows Roll – Tina Rae
Opalescent Flight When Sea Billows Roll Tina Rae is an artist and pastor living in London, Ontario. She is married and is a mother if 2. She has been painting since she was young, but after a hiatus when raising young children, she has recently returned to painting and creating. She is part of the London…
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Fennec Fox and Sea Turtle – Ryan Seo
Fennec Fox Sea Turtle Ryan Seo is a high school student attending Seoul Foreign School in South Korea. He is currently preparing his portfolio. His current interests are in algorithmic art.
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Biofuel Baby – R. Gerry Fabian
You compost combustible love. Inner solar panels generate constant rebate romance. There is no waste in your ecological energy. You recycle kisses across a gradual grid so that I am the sole beneficiary of your electric current. R. Gerry Fabian is a retired English instructor. He has been publishing poetry since 1972 in various poetry…
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Methuselah – Elizabeth Spencer Spragins
(A Rannaigheacht Ghairid) Sacred pine Grips the ridge of rocky spine. Roots that probe the limestone crust Brace against each gust, entwine Earth and sky With a long-forgotten sigh Sealed within a pyramid Where the hidden pharaohs lie. Weatherblown, Ancient one of age unknown Marks the centuries with rings, Cradles saplings in a cone. Limbs…
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On Learning that NASA Has Military Connections – Chris Kaiser
He studies the night sky with an eye Toward the blinding majesty of dark sparkles That pop in and out of existence Like inchoate dreams of teenaged boys Wanting to know the unknowable. The peace of the solitary moon calls to him, And the ghost of Neil Armstrong hugs him, Kisses him goodnight, Even as…
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Sun God – John C. Krieg
I am the egg yoke That draws nourishment From the white light of the heavens I am fire and gasses and intense heat Hungry to burn myself out I was here before you And will still be here Long after you are gone I am the hope of your children There is no future without…
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Era – Jeremy Szuder
All of the nights, for now, stay quiet in this post evening darkness. There is the breath of us all, from our bodies, and I am positive that in those heads, there resides the visions and the rapid eye movements that conjure an escape plan of dreams. The animals in the rained streets are still…
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Lightyears away – Amanda Little Rose
Tonight, I stitched light-beams and heart-strings Together, with thread Pulling tightly all the parts of me I’d left to ruin out in the rain. Amanda Little Rose has been a high school English teacher for five years, and graduated Bachelors of Arts and Science in English and Secondary Education, from Salve Regina University in Newport,…
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Plunge – Kate Wallace Rogers
Everydays like this one, I can’t wait to find my way around the bend, to a lonely patch all by myself. I strip down, slip down into briny deliciousness cool plunge under, get to know my own sensual self, way below aqualayers I’m alive. Euphoric green, underwater pristine as far as the body can see,…
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Ghosts of Dōgen, So Above as Below, and Our Own Shadows in the Air – Aaron Lelito
Ghosts of Dōgen So Above as Below Our Own Shadows in the Air Aaron Lelito is a visual artist and writer from Buffalo, NY. In his photographic work, he is primarily drawn to the patterns and imagery of nature. His images have most recently been published in The Esthetic Apostle and The Hand Magazine. He…
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Miami Docks – Timothy F Phillips
Timothy F Phillips was born on a bitterly cold day in January 1963 in the hills of Northern Pennsylvania an old coal town. He stands as a self-taught primitive/ naïve artist. He was coloring on paper before He learned to read and write, his drawing consisting of the surrounding mountains valleys and streams with farmhouses…
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Transitory Space, Toronto, Canada – Leah Oates
Cedarvale 2b Cedarvale 3c Leah Oates recently had a solo and several group shows in Toronto 2019 at Black Cat Artspace and recently had additional group shows in Toronto at the Gladstone Hotel, John. Aird Gallery, Connections Gallery, Propeller Gallery, Arta Gallery and at the Papermill Gallery. Oates has a solo shows planned in Toronto…
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A Strange and Wondrous Place – Fox and Bones
What’s it all worth anyway? Can you measure life in numbers and if so What’s a fair rate of exchange? Do you know the price point for each new breath that you take? How long does this ride last? Is there really any difference between our future and our past? We’re going through changes, well…
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The Ocean – Amanda Tumminaro
I was wed to the ocean, deeply. It was tranquil like a graveyard, but it made for a good listener, as I wanted a coffee confidante. But now the waves just welcome me in, with a curl of a palm, and one hiccup, and it’s done, and now it is time for sink or swim.…
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Plastic Layer and Colorado – Michelle Kim
Plastic Layer Colorado Michelle Kim is a 10th grader attending Seoul International School in South Korea. She is currently preparing her art portfolio in preparation to apply to universities.
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Three Poems – John C. Mannone
Ruach Soft grasses kneel at your breath. The rustle of your small still voice in a breeze through a field of lilies incense their petals, stirs your whisper against the face of my soul. I thirst for the moisture of your words, taste the earth-rich rill in the air flavored with pine—my lips sated, …
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Cancer Root – Harrison Pyros
The summer I planted bougainvillea in our backyard, my father was diagnosed with cancer. From the cheery associate at Lowe’s, I learned bougainvillea was a rapid-growing, hard-to-kill type of plant, perfect for swallowing up the ugly cement wall behind our house. I watered and watched the raspy green vines crawl their way across the wall,…
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6:40 am – Olivia Edwards
6.40 am It’s time. I must have dozed off before dinner. I was in the wrong bed. My sister was next to me, asleep. The lights were off and the sky was dark. It was 2 am. I was wide awake. This was my chance. — Here I am, sitting in my car. I’m trying…
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In Mr. Eliot’s Neighborhood – Linda Critchfield
There’s a particular sadness that comes on the last day of a journey. On this last morning I stopped in at St. Stephen’s, a church I happened upon while searching for a post office. It was just another building I might have walked past without a second thought but for a red and gold sign…
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November – Brian Cravens
Today, I saw my father buried. Yesterday, it was the woman I gave my heart to twelve years earlier on a sunlit day amidst a vale of fragrant springtime flowers. The only person in my life I was capable of experiencing a full and rich life with, who made me better at living and dreaming.…
