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Butterfly EffectBy Richa Gupta QuailBellMagazine.com A single swoop, a flutter of a delicate
wing. cascades of breeze flitting to the other side of the garden, taunting a rose's petal. confusing swirls hitting the glass of a window, the rest rising up to the clouds. giving the static marshmallows The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
A Collection of PoemsBy Corey Mesler QuailBellMagazine.com Dance
“Prelude The dancers enter. The audience and the dancers break wind.” from Cherokee “Booger Event” Let’s incorporate it all into our dance, all the loose strings and scraps of humanness. Let’s dance as if it all fits together, the movement of our bodies, the way the world belittles us, the way we belittle the world. Let’s act as if it all made sense. Sing of snot and earwax and odor! Sing of sexual diseases and malfunctions! No more secrets! Dance and let the body take care of itself. Let the song say, We are human. We defecate, get naked, become ill. And it’s all all an opening out, a celebration of man and woman in their pied beauty. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Interruptedwhile they sleep
I am up sweet girl mama can't sleep after hours of watching you toss and turn eyes transfixed to the monitor I exhale softly as you finally locate dolly running her ragged stitched body over your face The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
All The Things You Don't Remember DoingWell, the days come and go, the years pass, and then you're old and you sit around asking yourself: "What did I do in my life? What did I do?" and oddly enough you find that you don't know, you don't remember, that most of your life is simply missing, though you know that there are things you must have done: you must have been a child, you must have played with toys, you must have gone to school, there must have been punishments, there must have been birthday cakes, but you have no sense, no inner conviction, that any of these things ever actually happened; your life seems like a movie that you may or may not have seen years and years ago―you know the title, there may even be some fragmentary scenes in your memory that you believe are from that particular movie, but, no you really can't be sure if you saw it or if you are merely going by what others have told you, by a critic on the television, perhaps by a trailer presented before some main feature you went to the cinema to watch. Your entire life has vanished, has fallen away, like your hair, like so many of your friends, and you sit staring at a blank wall on a wintery afternoon huddled under a blanket wondering.
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Sanpaku NationBy Leah Mueller QuailBellMagazine.com I have nothing to say any more
about guns: except no one wants to be at the wrong end of one- the person on the opposite side is profoundly sure of his right to determine whether you live or die. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
Zindagi bhar nahin bhoolegi woh Purple barsaat ki raat |