The In-Conspicuous by Peter Magliocco
Peter Magliocco writes from Las Vegas, Nevada, where for years he’s been active in the small presses as editor, writer, poet, and artist.
Category: Death Poems
The Vampire by Madison Julius Cawein
Madison Julius Cawein was an American poet born in 1865 in Louisville, Kentucky. He was associated with the “Kentucky School” of writers and was known
In the name of the father
David L Painter is a International published poet. He is a member of Inner circle writers’ group and Penned in the city
Afternoon in February by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It is rare for us to publish a classic poem these days. We would like to more often. Being the end of February and just coming out of a very cold spell, we are happy to see the sun. Longfellow was born in February, so it just seemed like a good idea.
Why Don’t You Wish Alice a Happy Birthday? by KellyCreighton
Kelly’s work is currently and forthcoming in literary journals The Stinging Fly, Long Story Short, Wordlegs and Ink Sweat & Tears.
Depth Of Perception by A.R. Rodriguez
A.R. Rodriguez is a small business owner in Cleveland, Ohio. She has four volumes of poetry and two memoirs. Her material ,in it’s entirety comes from her life’s experience
In Preparation for the Hunt by Bethany W Pope
Picture me waiting
in the nook by the window,
long skirt spread out, falling
red and wet-looking against
Healing by Richard Brobst
Ultimately we must learn to accept
our losses (as constellations eventually
accept their passing one
Killer Cocktails and Marshall Swindles by Jillian Garner
Killer Cocktails and Marshall Swindles by Jillian Garner I want to know what if feels like to play chess
Dead Authors by Blazhia Parker
by Blazhia Parker I wish we could talk All I’m left with is mystery and interpretation What if I’ve gotten
Plans by Jane Hanser
Plans by Jane Hanser He who offered so much life lies resting in the ground Stones and grass and monuments
addio! by Denis Joe
addio! by Denis Joe Farewell: the rain trickles like candlewax when the flame is snuffed out by that last gasp
IN THE MILE END ROAD by Amy Levy
IN THE MILE END ROAD ?by Amy Levy How like her! But ’tis she herself, Comes up the crowded street,
The Tempest by James T. Fields
The Tempest We were crowded in the cabin, Not a soul would dare to sleep, It was midnight on the