Soul Fountain
Poem – Corpus Christi (By Milenko Zupanovic)
CORPUS CHRISTI Author: Milenko Zupanovic Ostensorium in a procession of almost the entire city, it leads to the statue of the saint on the hill, relics returned to the church a stranger, only in a white slept next to the ...
Poem – Magic (By Joshua Medsker)
Magic and in concert with you replenish as I dip I was walking through Chinatown the other day, down by the Bowery, and I stopped on a corner, at Avenue of the Strongest. I saw an espresso bar across the ...
Poem – AWAKENED (By John Stanizzi)
AWAKENED November 22, 1963 East Hartford High School 2.02 p.m. Ninth grade English, and just out of Catholic, school, I was not yet adjusted to the outrageous idea of a public school – no uniforms, ...
Photography ? – Kayaker (By Melissa R. Mendelson)
Photography - Kayaker (By Melissa R. Mendelson) ...
Poem – Homelanding (By Yuan Changming)
Homelanding Having nothing better to do, I kill Time by looking at a traditional Chinese painting on my iPad Much enlarged, it appears like A plain sheet of rice paper Smeared with ink. I view it In the presence of ...
Poem – GALILEO’S GHOST (By Ray Gallucci)
■ GALILEO’S GHOST With Earth at the Center, Ptolemy ruled. Mathematically sound, for centuries fooled Who then passed as scientists to proclaim, “We know all the Universe; don’t defame!” When Copernicus proved the Sun’s the Hub, Those of Catholic persuasion ...
Poem – ROARING SUN (By Joseph Cavera)
ROARING SUN (By Joseph Cavera) Endless are the days that begin again my tredging and dredging across the plains within planes through the tall grass and beyond green scenes and misty screens front the path to the distant shores Held ...
Poem – In The World (By JD DeHart)
In the World I’m tired of the high-minded voices I know talking about not being of the world. Like, what does that really mean? I’m the substance of this known universe. I have dirt under my nails. I eat from ...
Poem – Outsiders (By Robert Beveridge)
Outsiders The Club sits in the back in the middle talks over old times it's an amoeba that splits every once in a while pieces go off to New York or Indianapolis but always pull back together up here a ...
Poem – Dial ‘M’ for Memories (By Donal Mahoney)
Willie in his 80s now hadn’t made sense in years. His wife understood his grunts from the recliner where she propped him up till bedtime where snoring was music in the night. His grandson told neighbors Gramps had Old-Timer’s Disease, ...