Monthly Archives: October 2016

Short story from Michael Paul Hogan

Posted on by

The Fishermen of Dragon-Tooth Beach

by

Michael Paul Hogan

We anchored the rowboat and waded the last hundred yards ashore. The water was barely above our ankles, but we had to pick our way through a miniature forest of mangrove shoots five ten fifteen inches high, laid out like a tank trap between us and a narrow wedge of sand.

High on the beach four fishermen were stowing their gear. Their boat was drawn up almost to the tree line. There was a narrow road between the jungle and the bay. A fifth man came out of the jungle and joined them. They stopped what they were doing to watch us negotiate a path through the mangrove cones.

The girl slipped in the thick gray mud and I reached out instinctively to steady her. Feeling my hand on her bare shoulder she jerked away, almost slipping again. We continued forward in silence. There were no birds and the sea behind us was dead calm. The only sound was that of our feet squelching and glooping in the mud. The girl’s legs were plastered blue-gray to the hem of her short sarong. The girl made the beach and I followed her.

Continue reading →

Elizabeth Hughes’ Book Periscope

Posted on by

 

moonlightcover

Kathrine LaFleur’s Moonlight Hunting

Moonlight Hunting follows the character Moonlight on her quest to find the evil Persuasive, Barnabas. Moonlight and other Cardonians are trying to free the minds of the other people from all the sectors before Barnabas takes over their minds and makes them do his will. Death will come to all who resist him.

Moonlight Hunting is book two of the Cardonian Chronicles. It will keep the reader on the edge of their seat. I loved it. This is Ms. LaFleur at her best.

The Cardonian Chronicles may be ordered here.

Poetry from Patrick Ward

Posted on by

THE APPARITIONAL TRACE:

 

In a recorded moment in history,

  time stood still.

A tragic event occurs. 

Death takes place,

in the form of murder.

Needless to say,

that it was a very violent death.

 

Then the ghostly aftermath,

hauntingly settles in.

A barrage of cries, screams and groans,

seem to echo throughout the house at night.

Tenants are affrighted when they go inside. 

 

They say the dead never really rest,

after such a tragic death.

So beware of the apparitional trace. 

Continue reading →

Poetry from Joan Beebe

Posted on by

AN AUTUMN PRAYER

The sun’s golden rays

shine gently down upon the trees,

And it makes me want to say,

O Lord, I thank thee.

The burnished colors of

Red and orange and gold

Stir a feeling of contentment

Within my soul.

Another summer has passed us by, and yet,

When I gaze at the autumn sky,

I feel the peace and joy

of your love near by.

Continue reading →

Essay from Donal Mahoney

Posted on by
The Ronald and the Pyramid Scheme

 
Sonya was Ronald’s sixth wife. It was no secret that like his wives before her, Sonya had married him for his money. Most of them, like her, had emigrated to the United States from Europe. It seemed European women had greater tolerance for living with Ronald, thought by many to be a boorish American billionaire At least three of his wives bore him children before divorcing him and acquiring a big settlement and alimony for life. One of those women never called him anything but “The Ronald,” which name became public over the years and was used occasionally to mock him in the press.
 
“I have no idea why she called me that,” he once told a reporter. “But it has a nice ring to it, don’tcha think?”
 
The divorces usually occurred shortly after the wives would discover that Ronald was cheating on them with a woman younger and more beautiful than they were. He had a pattern of doing this. After a wife would divorce him he would marry the latest paramour and later on she would divorce him as well. For a brilliant and wealthy man, apparently the irony of this pattern never struck him. He simply kept doing the same thing and ending up in Divorce Court. His former wives were all living nicely now on Ronald’s money.
 
“I try to treat my women well,” Ronald told another reporter, “even when they have outlived their usefulness.”
 

Continue reading →

Poetry from Mahbub

Posted on by

The heart lost for ever

Everyone has a heart in body that sucks the world daily every moment I find the heart within me that sounds much as a morning bird became tired and more and became fired at last it got lost for ever.

Balubagan, Chapainawabganj

11/09/2015

In the darkness of night

What I know, know not at all whether it is fit or not What you do, right for me. I think you do always the same But is there any to take up from the sight of the world? open or hidden. our eyesight sparks in the darkness of night.

Balubagan, Chapainawabganj

12/09/2015

Dot

Here is a dot there is a dot no other place to stop only the glittering of eye and heart that beats the drum of the world I can see the path to walk where everything is placed with beauty and blush.

Balubagan, Chapainawabganj

12/09/2015

Continue reading →

Essay from Michael Marrotti

Posted on by

Pittsburgh Culture

   I walked up on stage like I was a nobody amongst a timid crowd, who would have had an orgasm after a single touch. The spotlight was beaming on me, the guy who traveled from Andy Warhol’s old neighborhood to recite a few pieces of poetry.
The first stanza mentioned a vagina, you know, the kind certain woman share with the social media world via Tumblr or snap chat. They appeared to be nervous. I shifted the position of my ass in the wooden chair to begin the second stanza.
This one mentioned chlamydia, you know, the sexually transmitted disease most of the millennials carry around like an iPhone. I took a look at the crowd after that to see giant eyeballs, taken aback, like I was reciting Anti-Semitic literature, after they snorted an Adderall.
There’s no turning back now, so I continued onto the last stanza. It mentioned an orgasm, you know, the kind we all had before this waste of time, also known as the open Mic. Where people come to share their art with an uptight crowd. The same people who belittle Trump every chance they get, but then emulate Mother Teresa, ’cause that’s the type of behavior that exists in this pseudo-liberal town of Pittsburgh.
I was banned after that night for enticing people to think about their own obscene actions. Christ, if I wanted to be upset, I could’ve stopped at my mom’s house. It’s less of a walk, and the vodka flows like the Allegheny river.

  Michael Marrotti is an author from Pittsburgh using words instead of violence to mitigate the suffering of life in a callous world of redundancy. His primary goal is to help other people. He considers poetry to be a form of philanthropy. When he’s not writing, he’s volunteering at the Light Of Life homeless shelter on a weekly basis. If you appreciate the man’s work, please check out his blog:www.thoughtsofapoeticmind.blogspot.com for his latest poetry and short stories.