TIMES – By Anwer Ghani
LITERARY CONTESTSFICTIONNONFICTIONPOETRYHAPPENINGSBOOK REVIEWSINTERVIEWSNEW TITLESART & PHOTOGRAPHYADELAIDE Independent Quarterly Literary Magazine / Revista Literária Independente Trimestral, New York / Lisboa, Online Edition TIMESBy Anwer Ghani The SunsetMy hand is so hot like the soul of the...
AS OF NOW – By Jim Hanlen
AS OF NOWPoems by Jim Hanlen
As of Now
I've just gotten used to wherethe creek and stone belong.They found their place a long time ago.
LOVE IN A WAR TIME – By Jeton Kelmendi
LOVE IN A WAR TIMEBy Jeton Kelmendi
Love in a War Time
Sometime I want them to happenThese thingsDifferentlyFor example, a heavy fog fell in me,Until...
SOME LIVING STRUCTURE IN THE UNDERLYING THOUGHT
SOME LIVING STRUCTURE IN THE UNDERLYING THOUGHTBy Carol Frith
Lepidopteron
A mourning cloak butterfly flashing winter maroonemerges from the creek willows,
its dark...
THANKSGIVING – By Obi Nwakanma
THANKSGIVINGBy Obi Nwakanma
Thanksgiving
It is the seventh month, and theUvene fruits are ripe again -The wild berries, plump with juice;The breadfruit, and the gourds are...
TOURNÉE DU CHAT NOIR – By Susan Cossette
TOURNÉE DU CHAT NOIRBy Susan Cossette
Tournée du Chat Noir
It is a suitable night for lost souls.The Swiss Guard, clad head to toe in goldLead...
KAME WARURU / JAR BREAKING – Translation by William Waters
KAME WARURU Jar BreakingTranslation by William Waters A SONG FOR AHN, MYONG HWAOriginal Korean:Phonetic Korean:Ahn-gay-ga god-hee-goMyong-song-ee sa-ra-chee-chaHwa-rha Harm-ee Da-shee sal-lan-nan-da. English:As the mist risesVenus disappears;Even the dust sparkles. KAME WARURU* Jar Breaking For BashoI hadforgottenthe jarin thekitchen,--had forgottenthe...
SIMPLE PLEASURES ELUDE ME LIKE FIREFLIES
SIMPLE PLEASURES ELUDE ME LIKE FIREFLIESBy Shirley Jones-Luke
Simple Pleasures Elude Me like Fireflies
Joy flits away in the moonlight,solitude is the crystal tears of starsdropping...
AT THE SCUOLA DI SAN ROCCO – By Anne Babson
AT THE SCUOLA DI SAN ROCCOBy Anne Babson
The gate guard greeted me “pronto,” not “buongiorno,”As if I were afar off phoning, but there IStood, ecce homo. Years, this artist...
MEMORIAL – By Geoffrey A. Rubin
MEMORIALBy Geoffrey A. Rubin
Memorial
Weeping willows talkAnd haunt a temple of solace.In a soothing slow voiceWhispers down from heaven.The power of those not presentInspires witnessed...