Orpheus

Orpheus by Ryan Mahr-hale

Don’t look back she said on the wobbling log.
Stream an unstrung washing machine;
leaves traffic cops redirecting the light.

The forest was magic that day. There were surely
more people about than you, shyly envying
how your brutal extraction from the world
of organic geometries and green enabled
the hot rush of return. You pitied them,

the spirits of streams and trees, because
they were not you today. The log threatened failure
of the enterprise. You laughed. Looked back.

Two Aspiring Saints Interface in a CVS by Ryan Mahr-Hale

Her hands writhing, she says
“I can sound good but not be good”

as you fiddle with a mascara wand
in CVS under lying lights

instead of answering. She picks up
her can from the ground. “I’m going

to smoke a cigarette,” she says. You nod.
She paid for that Monster energy drink,

curlicued and carbonated. You slip
the mascara wand into your pocket.

<strong>Ryan Mahr-Hale</strong>
Ryan Mahr-Hale

Ryan Mahr-Hale holds a B.A. in philosophy from the State University of New York at New Paltz. For his money, the most compelling philosophical question is whether (or in what sense) we have free will. He has worked in retail and human services and lives in Kingston, NY, with his wife. His poetry has appeared in Neologism Poetry Journal.








A Time Traveler’s Tale

I was nine, when the tectonic plates shifted between my parents. The buildings collapsed all around me, as I held my mother’s hand at 2 am, and slept at my neighbours. My body shrank inside the warm blanket, as if I was lying on a crescent shaped moon.
Read More

If You Ever

If you ever remember me, By the falling of raindrops on Our forgotten words Do not let me bleed in pain, Make me bleed in poems.
Read More

Shaping Water

I was a singer that could not sing a writer that could not write frozen in ice living in sub zero conditions with no knowledge of fire making
Read More

Dawn

Delicious light licks at the window pane, Piercing glass to filter and refract. Eager it springs, darting into corners So long sunk in darkness.
Read More

Death is a Friend

If I am to know death as a friend and not a foe, I’ll take her hand and whisper, “I’ll never let you go.”
Read More

Entrapped

Swirls of drape entwining veins of desires Slender fingers flipping pages of heart Twist of hues now vividly her eyes fires Infatuation thorns hold love apart
Read More

Between Us

I talk to you of the distances between us. However not feeling one and still asking you, what’s between us?
Read More
photo of an ocean shoreline to illustrate the poem entitled, Stronger

Stronger

The land was green and crowned with grains Ocean tides rolled droplets of gold on the shores Birds roamed the heavens whispering melodies That resonated in our hearts;
Read More

Read submission criteria here.

A Time Traveler’s Tale

A Time Traveler’s Tale by Aishwarya Roy

I was nine when the tectonic plates shifted between my parents.
The buildings collapsed all around me, as I held my mother’s hand at 2 am, and slept at my neighbours. My body shrank inside the warm blanket as if I was lying on a crescent-shaped moon.

/the moon kept eating my darkness, and became full/

When I turned thirteen, my home taught me the principles of dictatorship, long before my History teacher could.
The women around me lived under their men’s rules and roofs, a lie of love, but liberated themselves in the commas in between the lines.

/they needed a bigger heart than the sky, because they multiplied with each sunset/

A not-so-sweet sixteen-year-old me realised how a bus ride was a perfect metaphor for this fleeting life. That’s how quickly things pass you by when you’re not looking.
My elbow kicked a middle-aged man when he rubbed his bushy skin against my waxed arms, in the crowded bus.

/we will always be in constant motion, even when we stand still/

While an eighteen high on endorphins, I read a scientific fact, which said that because light takes time to reach us, eveything we see is in the past.

/maybe that’s why I felt like I’d already met you before, when we’d only just met/

Twenty-one pilots and a few heartbreaks old me built a house of cards once. And heaved that sigh she’d been saving for the final glimpse of what lay before her.
And just then — it all fell apart; within the time it takes to blink once.

/we built a relationship, and you wonder why, I’m still holding my breath?/

Today, I’m an eighty-five-year-old woman, immersed in self-love, wearing a black bindi, lying on her deathbed.
I see the war raged against the humanity getting over, the summer sun settling behind the oldest building of my city, spreading shades of rose. The leaves detach themselves from the tree, like a child losing the firm grip of his mother’s palms, and getting lost in the crowd.

/the yellow taxis bring home missing-person(s),
And I lie back and wonder how, somewhere between the fear of love-bites and love handles,
I grew up/

<strong>Aishwarya Roy</strong>
Aishwarya Roy

I’m Aishwarya, a messy poet, from Kolkata, India.

The engineering student in me reduces the probability of sadness to near zero, by feeding itself salty newspapers of memes. The artist in me reads classics and scribbles art on forbidden walls.

I’m still the same little girl, who would write stories of love and wars upon the palms of her hands, walking around, arms outstretched, asking people to read them.

Orpheus

Don’t look back she said on the wobbling log. Stream an unstrung washing machine; leaves traffic cops redirecting the light.
Read More

If You Ever

If you ever remember me, By the falling of raindrops on Our forgotten words Do not let me bleed in pain, Make me bleed in poems.
Read More

Shaping Water

I was a singer that could not sing a writer that could not write frozen in ice living in sub zero conditions with no knowledge of fire making
Read More

Dawn

Delicious light licks at the window pane, Piercing glass to filter and refract. Eager it springs, darting into corners So long sunk in darkness.
Read More

Death is a Friend

If I am to know death as a friend and not a foe, I’ll take her hand and whisper, “I’ll never let you go.”
Read More

Entrapped

Swirls of drape entwining veins of desires Slender fingers flipping pages of heart Twist of hues now vividly her eyes fires Infatuation thorns hold love apart
Read More

Between Us

I talk to you of the distances between us. However not feeling one and still asking you, what’s between us?
Read More
photo of an ocean shoreline to illustrate the poem entitled, Stronger

Stronger

The land was green and crowned with grains Ocean tides rolled droplets of gold on the shores Birds roamed the heavens whispering melodies That resonated in our hearts;
Read More

Read submission criteria here.

If You Ever

If You Ever by Tamoha Mukhopadhyay

If you ever remember me,
By the falling of raindrops on
Our forgotten words
Do not let me bleed in pain,
Make me bleed in poems.

If you ever see me,
By the bend of our path
Do not let a barrage of words
Impede our love ,
Let them caress me .

If you ever feel me,
In the edifice of all our unaccounted memories,
Do not let me feel untouched ,
Ink your fettered words in my heart.

If you ever ask me,
In an inundated road
Do not restrict yourself from the rain
Let it drench us in all our unspoken words.

If these ifs fail to arrive
Do look at the sky,
My heart will always beat there.

Extrication by Tamoha Mukhopadhyay

Don’t bother me now
I am busy drenching in all the unexplained metaphors.
humming the fatuous onomatopoeias.
For once my heart is not faint with a hundred stitches,
I am not abashed for my rumbustious self.

I run wild, barefoot in the shadowed woods
Magnolias aside
My lips are not blanched,
soul not shackled,
hair not rough with excruciation

I dance around, amidst the thorned roads
In the glinting moonlight,
mirthful memories,
The clear sky,
untethered from the strings of life,
Forever

Your Evanescence by Tamoha Mukhopadhyay

When you came,
The night had not seen the moon,
The sky had not seen the bees cavort.
The garland of my soul had not seen her flowers bloom.

Then, you left me
in the cacophony of life.
The flowers that you gave,
On a fooled autumn evening
Besieged me,
As I saw them get putrid.

you left me with a quavered heart,
You left me with a barrage of conjectural questions.
You left the world, except mine.

The moon glinted in her her glory,
The bees buzzed in exuberance.

But the garland of my soul was withered, forever.
When I was leaving,
I saw a part of your soul,
Lying by the riverside,
I consorted it,
On my way to the inevitable path of silence.

<strong>Tamoha Mukhopadhyay</strong>
Tamoha Mukhopadhyay

I am Tamoha Mukhopadhyay, a girl of 15 from Kolkata, India. 

I have always adhered to writing in my darkest of times. My poems are mostly melancholic, but buds of hope never fail to rise from the greyness. My poems celebrate pain, love, extrication.

I often feel tangled in the strings of life and the darkness seems to pirouette around me and writing is a form of untethering the strings and starting all over again.

Orpheus

Don’t look back she said on the wobbling log. Stream an unstrung washing machine; leaves traffic cops redirecting the light.
Read More

A Time Traveler’s Tale

I was nine, when the tectonic plates shifted between my parents. The buildings collapsed all around me, as I held my mother’s hand at 2 am, and slept at my neighbours. My body shrank inside the warm blanket, as if I was lying on a crescent shaped moon.
Read More

Shaping Water

I was a singer that could not sing a writer that could not write frozen in ice living in sub zero conditions with no knowledge of fire making
Read More

Dawn

Delicious light licks at the window pane, Piercing glass to filter and refract. Eager it springs, darting into corners So long sunk in darkness.
Read More

Death is a Friend

If I am to know death as a friend and not a foe, I’ll take her hand and whisper, “I’ll never let you go.”
Read More

Entrapped

Swirls of drape entwining veins of desires Slender fingers flipping pages of heart Twist of hues now vividly her eyes fires Infatuation thorns hold love apart
Read More

Between Us

I talk to you of the distances between us. However not feeling one and still asking you, what’s between us?
Read More
photo of an ocean shoreline to illustrate the poem entitled, Stronger

Stronger

The land was green and crowned with grains Ocean tides rolled droplets of gold on the shores Birds roamed the heavens whispering melodies That resonated in our hearts;
Read More

Read submission criteria here.

Shaping Water

Shaping Water by Born on a Dark Moon

I was a singer that could not sing
a writer that could not write
frozen in ice
living in sub zero conditions
with no knowledge of fire making
here words were arrows of jagged water
and I was full of them
even when I came to temperate shores
I could not thaw
yet there was a fire that burned deep inside
that flamed so fervently
I could not hide from its warmth
I melted
salty liquid streaming
shaping a voice that was my own

Bittersweet by Born on a Dark Moon

fire stoked
cauldron stirred
bubbles rise from untouched water
heart remembers searing heat
steam releases
tears fall
heart embraces her own potion
both bitter and sweet

Feather Soft by Born on a Dark Moon

gently does it
let kindness come
wash your loops and sharp thoughts in sacred water
invite compassion to be your friend
hand over it all
for inside you rests
sensitivity as precious as a babe
one that has waited beyond knowing
to give you their words

<strong>Jai Michelle</strong>
Jai Michelle

Jai Michelle from Born On A Dark Moon is an artist of many colours. Growing out of Scottish soil but now grows roots in The Netherlands she is a recording artist, poet, and playwright. Taking her inspiration from the confluence of the inner world, vulnerability, and spirit where truth is her paint and expression her brush, she invites you to dive deep into the colour and canvas of her work. 

Orpheus

Don’t look back she said on the wobbling log. Stream an unstrung washing machine; leaves traffic cops redirecting the light.
Read More

A Time Traveler’s Tale

I was nine, when the tectonic plates shifted between my parents. The buildings collapsed all around me, as I held my mother’s hand at 2 am, and slept at my neighbours. My body shrank inside the warm blanket, as if I was lying on a crescent shaped moon.
Read More

If You Ever

If you ever remember me, By the falling of raindrops on Our forgotten words Do not let me bleed in pain, Make me bleed in poems.
Read More

Dawn

Delicious light licks at the window pane, Piercing glass to filter and refract. Eager it springs, darting into corners So long sunk in darkness.
Read More

Death is a Friend

If I am to know death as a friend and not a foe, I’ll take her hand and whisper, “I’ll never let you go.”
Read More

Entrapped

Swirls of drape entwining veins of desires Slender fingers flipping pages of heart Twist of hues now vividly her eyes fires Infatuation thorns hold love apart
Read More

Between Us

I talk to you of the distances between us. However not feeling one and still asking you, what’s between us?
Read More
photo of an ocean shoreline to illustrate the poem entitled, Stronger

Stronger

The land was green and crowned with grains Ocean tides rolled droplets of gold on the shores Birds roamed the heavens whispering melodies That resonated in our hearts;
Read More

Read submission criteria here.

Dawn

Dawn by E.R. Paget

Delicious light licks at the windowpane,
Piercing glass to filter and refract.
Eager it springs, darting into corners
So long sunk in darkness.

Under the watchful eye of an indulgent sun,
The shadows slant and prance,
Conducted by the light with an energetic hand,
To twirl and spin unbound.

Swathed in warmth, a room reborn,
Resurrected from the depths of the night.
Blessed it basks in the days’ sunlight
Waiting for the dark to return.

Falling by E.R. Paget

For her, it was
No risk at all,
To take a leap
Of faith so great,
Falling recklessly,
Breathlessly,
Irrevocably,
Into the dark.

This House by E.R. Paget

This house has stood for many years,
Walls deep and thick with dust,
Quietly soaking up the past,
These bricks so often touched.

In homage they hum and whisper
Of people dead and gone,
Stories and secrets set in stone
Once lived and now undone.

I hear them in the quiet of night,
These occupants of old,
Slipping softly room to room
The ghosts of tales untold.

They pass as shadows through the door,
Silently they roam,
Moving meekly with no malice,
Gracious, they share their home.

<strong>E.R. Paget</strong>
E.R. Paget

E.R. Paget lives and works in Scotland. The landscape and coast around her home inspire both her writing and photography. She often links her poems to the photographs she takes.

E.R. is passionate about her natural surroundings,
history, and the balance of light and dark in life. She shares some of her writing and photography on Instagram: @life_and_light_poetry

Orpheus

Don’t look back she said on the wobbling log. Stream an unstrung washing machine; leaves traffic cops redirecting the light.
Read More

A Time Traveler’s Tale

I was nine, when the tectonic plates shifted between my parents. The buildings collapsed all around me, as I held my mother’s hand at 2 am, and slept at my neighbours. My body shrank inside the warm blanket, as if I was lying on a crescent shaped moon.
Read More

If You Ever

If you ever remember me, By the falling of raindrops on Our forgotten words Do not let me bleed in pain, Make me bleed in poems.
Read More

Shaping Water

I was a singer that could not sing a writer that could not write frozen in ice living in sub zero conditions with no knowledge of fire making
Read More

Death is a Friend

If I am to know death as a friend and not a foe, I’ll take her hand and whisper, “I’ll never let you go.”
Read More

Entrapped

Swirls of drape entwining veins of desires Slender fingers flipping pages of heart Twist of hues now vividly her eyes fires Infatuation thorns hold love apart
Read More

Between Us

I talk to you of the distances between us. However not feeling one and still asking you, what’s between us?
Read More
photo of an ocean shoreline to illustrate the poem entitled, Stronger

Stronger

The land was green and crowned with grains Ocean tides rolled droplets of gold on the shores Birds roamed the heavens whispering melodies That resonated in our hearts;
Read More

Read submission criteria here.

Death is a Friend

Death is a Friend by Aylin Roland

If I am to know death
as a friend and not a foe,
I’ll take her hand and whisper,
“I’ll never let you go.”
We could walk through the garden,
down the street or take a bus.
We could do anything we like,
just the two of us.
We could talk for hours
about life and love.
How every day is unlike another,
how we are never good enough.
If I am to know death,
she could tell me her secret
and I’ll keep my lips closed tight
with every intention to keep it.
In time we’ll grow closer
just as good friends do.
Death and I together.
It’s like I always knew.

<strong>Aylin Roland</strong>
Aylin Roland

My name is Aylin Roland. I’m 34 and based in southern Indiana. I am a poetry lover and have been writing poetry since I was about 12. I love to write poetry of extremely different themes, such as love and romance to death and the supernatural. 

I would say my greatest inspirations come from the people I know and love.  I consider Emily Dickinson, Edgar Allen Poe, and John Keats as my favorite poets. I hope to someday publish my work in a collection. When I’m not writing you can find usually find me watching a horror film, conquering a puzzle, or enjoying some good wine. Or maybe all three at once! 

Orpheus

Don’t look back she said on the wobbling log. Stream an unstrung washing machine; leaves traffic cops redirecting the light.
Read More

A Time Traveler’s Tale

I was nine, when the tectonic plates shifted between my parents. The buildings collapsed all around me, as I held my mother’s hand at 2 am, and slept at my neighbours. My body shrank inside the warm blanket, as if I was lying on a crescent shaped moon.
Read More

If You Ever

If you ever remember me, By the falling of raindrops on Our forgotten words Do not let me bleed in pain, Make me bleed in poems.
Read More

Shaping Water

I was a singer that could not sing a writer that could not write frozen in ice living in sub zero conditions with no knowledge of fire making
Read More

Dawn

Delicious light licks at the window pane, Piercing glass to filter and refract. Eager it springs, darting into corners So long sunk in darkness.
Read More

Entrapped

Swirls of drape entwining veins of desires Slender fingers flipping pages of heart Twist of hues now vividly her eyes fires Infatuation thorns hold love apart
Read More

Between Us

I talk to you of the distances between us. However not feeling one and still asking you, what’s between us?
Read More
photo of an ocean shoreline to illustrate the poem entitled, Stronger

Stronger

The land was green and crowned with grains Ocean tides rolled droplets of gold on the shores Birds roamed the heavens whispering melodies That resonated in our hearts;
Read More

Read submission criteria here.