Poetry

Andrea Damic, born in Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina, lives in Sydney, Australia. She is an amateur photographer and author of microfiction, flash fiction and poetry.

"Blood without blood, Brokenness yet unbroken..."

"...thunder actually says nothing..."

"...on a night when fading leaves lay still on the trees..."

"...an icy red wine sky leaps into our mind..."

"...without cash prize or laughter raised..."

"...you harped blame on detractors and the West..."

"...Swallowing the hollow look..."

Ian Mullins ships out from Liverpool, England, where he is a full-time Carer to his elderly parents. He dreams of one day leaving the house.

"...buried in an alien land, doomed for the rest of eternity..."

"Each evening I look up at the stars..."

"...like someone who left without ever saying goodbye..."

"...clear girl, vanishing in smoke like a magic show..."

"...A necessary death For a necessary reason..."

"...what once was old..."

"...To run? To hide? To turn from Alexandria?..."

"...We are scattered like watermelon seeds..."

"...facing my own death on my own time..."

"...He told them all how to live..."

"...Previously I was supportive of poetry sourced from our rent..."

"...coffins, cowboys, virgins, ghost..."

"...I stare at the broken columns and pillars..."

"...both places invite me, a part of me exists in both places...."

"...The battle begins<br> as this war rages on..."

"...Which mirror will show me..."

"...ghost of the person looking straight at you from the past..."

'..."I am Me," Ginsberg writes...'

"...Shadows do not make history..."

"...in New York a pretty face is a degenerate's menu..."

"...the storm clouds throwing thunder..."