Buried a little further, in sodden soils and balding grass, are the manifold agonies hardly ever silenced. These are the shadows that follow me everywhere― etching themselves onto my skin, digging deep with their claws, infiltrating my purpling veins, rusting the way I see the world. They are the screams and wails that scraped my throat. Here lie the sins I haven’t forgiven myself from, perhaps I couldn’t, for ten, twenty, thirty more years―not until the lips that utter the apology learn not to tremble terribly to speak of forgiveness.
I’ll sit with you a while my dear
As I often do
Look across the water clear
Turbulent serenity, blue
I’ll sip a morning coffee with you
Watch the passers by
I’ll hold your time written hands
And watch the flocking birds fly
The sky will house us, I say with no doubt;
Of course, the Earth will take care of our feet.
But would that we dwelt within not but out
so we may make these planets our strong fleet.
Eyes are darting left, at the filling docks beyond but
I stare to the right where the vast
terrain slopes toward the peak of the gods.
The peak is tarnished onyx, scorched with
red anger leaking from the top, slow and steady.
The grime started dusting the air, leaving
a layer of it on my tan skin, but I hold one hand
up and shield baby from breathing it in.
How can those days wondrous be forgotten,
days when you on me poured your affection?
Didn’t you treat me as if I were your son?
Speaking about his published novel entitled ‘King’s Signet’, the author, who lives in North Carolina, says it was initially intended to be a short story for a fantasy magazine. ‘That was in 2018. But I kept on getting ideas while writing other pieces, so what was supposed to be a short story turned into a novel which I finally published in June this year,’ he tells us.
Do you know what the word ‘mean’ means?
Oops! I sure am not being mean;
Also, I’m ware you’ve many means
to approach the college dean.
I’m happy you’re very mean!
Like a jewel thou shineth, dark thou sendeth home.
Planets eight thou holdeth, showing thy might;
Were you absent, would exist a stone?
‘Both happiness and sorrow never stay.
This is what indicate the stars and the Moon.
Time matters to all of us; that’s why
Oft I stay and at times fade away too soon.’
You once told me that you didn’t believe Rome burned in a day because great things don’t fall apart like that. So when you held my hand and promised to hold everything that comes with it―sunshine and storms― I believed in you. I let you in with all the trust I could ever give. You did not rush me with my walls and so I put them down. When you asked about my scars, I told you their stories without holding back the ugliest details, and you kissed them all to heal. For the first time, I felt infinite. It didn’t matter if I would forget writing sad proses, even if that’s what I’m good at.
Author Christian Towers began writing stories at the tender age of nine. That was also the age he began creating short comic books incorporating superheroes and other types of action heroes of his creation. ‘This eventually flourished into a love for films and film making. Also, I decided to become a director of films when I grew up at about the same time. Despite opposition from the family, the dream persisted several years. However, as the years passed, and when I entered high school, I felt what mattered to me was not so much making films but being a storyteller in general. That is when being a film director became less important to me, and the author life grew more appealing,’ the Florida-based author, who hails from Puerto Rico, begins, speaking to the Literary Express in an exclusive interaction.
I can’t believe December’s here;
This year’s been like a bad dream.
From Covid to typhoons to floods,
things have gotten too extreme.
Angered, Belittled, Chagrined, Depressed
By Christina’s Demanding Eyes,
Charlie Did Everything Flagrantly:
Dancing, Eating, Fighting Guys.
Eyeing Friends Gamble Houses
For Ghastly Hemp, Ice,
‘God!’ He Iterated ‘ Justified?’
Poet Nirmal Parashar’s writing journey began with a quote he had read in the book ‘The Light of Asia’: Leave love for love of lovers. ‘This powerful quote has only remained etched on my mind since I read it,’ says the poet, speaking to the Literary Express in an exclusive interaction. He tells us that because he was an introvert, he used to spend more time with books than with friends during his school and college days. ‘Nonetheless, during adolescence, the curiosity to understand the word “love” became intense,’ he states with a smile, adding, ‘And although I was hardly familiar with this, I was curious to know how it feels to love and be loved.’
Coordinates require input, chance comes accidentally,
Rendezvous a meeting point, you do saunter aimlessly.
Vector an interception course, we cross paths randomly
Anticipation is foresight, I never imagined such beauty.
Peter nodded, then looked back out at the sea. I followed his gaze. Sunshine reflected off the surface of the water, mirroring brilliance. Waves rose and fell with roaring energy. It was scary, beautiful, and oh so wondrous. I needed to come here more often.
Cold moon flows
our love sick fantasies
sculpts desire of swallowed fame
oh, long lost symphonies!
Curtain falls on blazing seduction
slaying us over and over again
lighting the dark, curse upon us
until shadows remain.
You’re tormenting me like a restless, malicious spirit I can’t be rid of. You shall be an ever-present reminder of my cowardice, of my original nature long-lost and yet too, a beast discovered that’s forever concealed in me; one that hungers, thirsts, craves.