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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Do you see that man standing there above the pain of loneliness and the rain-stained curb who threw his life in a plastic bag and a Dora backpack?...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    One day I awoke and everything was  different.   Wrinkled sheets, soft yellow walls, clothes strewn bedside-- none of these I had ever seen before.   Brushing teeth, I saw a stranger's face in the mirror. His eyes brimmed  with unne...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    I always forget to lock the back door, and my older brother likes to joke with me about it. Except half the time he’s not really joking, and he looks at me and shakes his head, and he’s actually pretty serious, in a funny sort of way. He’s afraid someone might open the door in the middle of ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Frustration hidden: flaming needles stabbing stomach walls, fists clenched in unfurled hands....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Denim jeans, striped blue shirt, lonely body on crowded train. Rabid chatter, energized hum transparently fade in life-deadened ears. Troubled eyes silently watching fields flowing from rain-stained window....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    She speaks from a place that I cannot understand. Aloof yet searching, her words and her silences unravel the events of a tired life. It is her eyes, empty, that tell her story....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    A candle, a whisper A betraying voice In a hall Dampened with secrets Forlorn and despised, we lay Near the pedal Of the organ— Gargantuan and… Surprise! They heard us talking A step And we lose it The cavernous sky Opens to swallow us And we’re gone Lost in the lonely vaults O...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Look up past the domed steeple I tell her And she follows my pointing hand. There, there, the snow swirling lightly! And she pauses and wonders But is it not everywhere so? Look, look I tell her At the darkened steeple and the brilliant snow that meanders so slowly!...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    why have we stopped dreaming, and not just dreams for a nonexistent Hollywood, and its commercialized glamor but dreams of living in the wharves and warehouses that line Manayunk yeah – breathing the sun-polluted air of a place where Philadelphia herself comes to play: with her tourists, ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Unspoken thoughts fly awry through my head As I churn here awake Alight in my bed The living lie awake; the dead stand undead In the crescendo of night As if alive in my stead Morn has time away Eyebrows lifted Eyes averted, astray Labored breathing quickened; wary of day Cool mists bri...
  • Art /
    Photo > Photographs
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