Star-Maker

Preye T A She’s a storyteller, she tells all kinds, The lies don’t count though. “Unfair”, she thinks. School is lacklustre, but provides a solid career to fall back on “We have discussed this writing hobby for the last time”. But her mind constantly raging Her mundane existence is her inspiration, So her fiction lives a far more fascinating reality She never finds the right puns hard to write In the right parts of the right poems no less They take her heart away For they are her art, wailing on paper Because they are…

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I was I am

By Mitchell Kooh I was here. Where were you? When day was new and night was long. With waters dark as the void in the eye of the storm. The light breaking. Light dying. And Man walked the earth. Where were you when I laid the foundations? Tell me. When the mourning stars sang together. I already know, but tell me anyhow. Tell me: who are you to reject me? Who do you think you are? I loved you I made you I saved you. You who cannot see. You were just an afterthought of…

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Possibility

By Rebecca Allison I remember the dock. The summer night cools as the Cheshire smiles. Marshmallows cry off in the distance. Their last rites read by the whispering flames. Their tongues lap at the sweet offerings. The dim light barely registers. I scan the infinite canvas before me. Specks of dust, above as below. But interpretation alters perception. Heaven beyond the details. Worlds, journeys, and Gods weaved amongst the space. No monster in the dark. My dreams linger on the dock. The cosmos, mine to forge.

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Genesis 11:8

By Ashley Hynd I peered through the telescope. Saw 42 constellations. Insignificant. Connect the dot skies, a dollhouse of cosmic dust, alphabetic blocks C H O                               the messy floor of God’s playroom. His mother drunk on consequence never held him to her breast. Sent him to private school. On the way home he dropped his mason jar. Stars spilled out created the universe. Consequently, this is why we have plastic water bottles.

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…—…

By Rebecca Allison Hand me the tarot cards. ‘Ology over ‘onomy. Plant your words. The future written in particles. Thousands of miles, the distance to their dance floor. Atoms mambo to the beat. Music falls in silence. No oxygen to translate. Gaseous balls glint and glow. Their steps, Morse code. Dots and dashes recorded and interpreted. Operators looking to cards and the sky. Fate scrawled in black and white.

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A Slow Descent Into Madness

By Manreet Lachar The descent into madness, he thinks, is a slow one. It starts when he’s young, looking at the night sky while his mother tells him stories about the pretty stars and hums him lullabies to get him to sleep. Then, all of a sudden, his mother is gone and he tells the stories of the constellations himself. But it’s lonely, knowing that no one is there to listen. Next come the lights. It will always be a source of morbid fascination, the fact that they creep up on him instead of being…

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We were there once

By Stephanie Shokoff Extended by circumstance into endless waters you’re searching for that happen stance moment of alignment. Whispers come to hear. Fruition is framed from the narrative of time having waited for the reaping. Thinking beyond the margin of convention, as people are designed by the times and their fashions. To set yourself on fire like a phoenix when we repair, we repair with gold we have created ourselves whole, my dear Socratic intent, out of the ashes of my former self, I AM heaven sent. When you should find a mirror to your…

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Vincent, 1889

By Carina Rampelt one lonely candle burns in the window of the lunatic asylum. the sky slips into a silk chemise behind a dark cypress tree and spritzes herself with midnight oil tonight is ripe for dancing. the melody begins, hesitantly at first, then growing, pulsing filling the sky with golden light, and all at once burning in feverish swirls and twists and spirals, the stars turning incredible gymnastic feats, the moon beaming, swelled with admiration (she’s chaperoning from the corner, a glass of wine in her gloved hand) oblivious to the spectacle above, Saint-Rémy-de-Provence…

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Light Jumpers

By Amanda Scheifele See the sea my playmate Come up and fly with me And bring your star points five Climb up to feel alive Slide down my comet tail Into the sea of stars And we’ll be light jumpers Forever more

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