• Poetry

    Pecans

    by Gregg Oakley ** Between the soil, tree and wind, I have been given a job to do. No one else seems interested As I walk around in the street, Picking up only what I’ve been given. ** A boisterous wind blew and blew, Just like a young boy shaking the tree Down come the pecans. ** We have been given the earth And the earth provides for us, A perpetual feast.

  • Poetry

    Elders

    by Gregg Oakley ** I will be saddened As I grow older, Not because of my age, But because my elders, Will be less of my elders. ** Who will I look to For wisdom and guidance? Who will advise me With words of experience? ** Not knowledge, Not information, But lived wisdom. ** I will be saddened when my elders Become less of My elders.

  • Poetry

    How a Man Feels a Woman

    By Allen Ginnett     I can feel them, Like they can feel me. All so beautiful, so sensitive. Glossy eyed, full of thoughts And ideas, that I, a man Would never think of. They are everything, We are not, And vice versa. To some they are vice, So very nice… I’m numb to your eyes, I cry. She’s beautiful. When she’s mean, she’s means And when she’s lean, she leans. She cares so much more Then I’ll ever know. She’s scared, I wonder… Will I ever grow? And to think, Like a clock… Another second, minute, hour, They all pass by. The closer you are, The more my mind…

  • Poetry

    Peace is…

    by Natasha Webster ** The poem provided below is from my first (to be self-published) book, Finding Her Voice. ** Peace is… Quiet in the storm Hope in darkness Calm in the chaos Action in right timing Mindfulness in confusion Ease in difficulties Flow in the current Surrender in war Trust in uncertainty Love in anger Humility in adversity Connection in spirit Strength in weakness

  • Poetry

    Elevation Fixation

    by Jamaille Austin   Narrative Poetry I just had… An Elegy of Opportunity- Geological permafrost tundra- Dreamlike rapid eye movement slumber- Cognitive plateau summit of umbra- Post meridiem- Reality of psychoanalysis night scare… I am hunted by… An inescapable cardinal point aurora- Near Catastrophic Pneumonia- Anti-monetary note eudaimonia- Viridian ink portrait mirage of horror- Ante Meridiem- Currency maze conundrum of despair… Beware! A heroic extrovert of pilgrimage- Aspiring Carpe Diem behavior- Inspiring ambitious trade laborer- Oxymoron news advertisement courier- Displaying opportunities of mirage; Ebony and ivory camouflaged- Template transmogrified- Into an lighter inflamed masterpiece; Rest in Pieces… Faulty citywide press printed- Frivolous yet influential- Proletariat monumental- Educational riddled collage; Agggggh… Pity…

  • Nonfiction,  Poetry

    One Hundred Thousand Chevy Tahoes

    By Allen Ginnett If you were to ask me to describe Anchorage, Alaska in one sentence, with no hesitation I would respond, “Imagine a hundred thousand Chevy Tahoes.” To put it perspective, take away all preconceived notions of Alaska and imagine a transparent box of metal and glass with no blind spot vision. Combine these elements with a dolly and I can take any car I want. This is power in the black market of bartering off the internet; that’s just an example. The Tahoe is an asset, an advantage, a tool to live life to the fullest in a extreme climate like Alaska. Today I’m located in the most…

  • Nonfiction,  Poetry

    Today as an American

    By Allen Ginnett I wake up everyday- with intention. Intention to change. I have the freedom to decide who I am. Who is that person? You may ask, but the answer is right in front of you. I am American. Watch me smile because I am happy; Feel me when I hurt. “Wow!” How do I express how thankful I am? By enjoying every minute of it. I am American. Today I told my mom, pride was a bad thing. But, I am proud to be American. Let me push forward, adapt. Be proud to be proud. Bring forth the bad habits. We can take it all on. American is…

  • Nonfiction,  Poetry

    “You’re the only friend I’d pretend to be gay for.” 

    by a Friendly Neighborhood Queer ~~~~~~ “You’re the only friend I’d pretend to be gay for.”  The way you say these words is friendly, you’re joking, being playful, trying to get a laugh from me.  And I do laugh, your arm linked through mine.  But on further reflection, it’s impossible for me to find this phrase funny.  I don’t know exactly what you meant.  I’m constantly trying to eke out the complex meanings in exchanged words, assigning too much purpose to each syllable.  I have trouble seeing things at face value.  You’d “pretend to be gay” for me.  What does that mean?  Are you comfortable enough around me to not feel threatened by my queerness?  Do you think it’d be funny if we shocked and amused…

  • Poetry

    Your hands vs Mine

    by Oceana Gamel-Howes Hands. They all serve the same function, they all have the same basic shape. Some are old, some are rough, some are small. Hands tell a story, and not just through their appearance. The things our hands do are an extension of our brains, our minds, our thoughts; the hub of activity that lives in our skull. That place is where we come from, and our hands are the most important tools we own to express ourselves. Your hands may not seem too different from mine based on appearance, but it’s not about that they look like, it’s about what they can do. Your hands. Yours hands…

  • Poetry

    Trial and Error

    by Roman Dial Trial and error Failure and terror The truth of the matter at hand. Death in a whisper Is so much to weather For the life of a Wife and her man.