Academy of the Heart and Mind

By Danny P. Barbare Emptyingthetrasha poeminthenightlikeastarintheskyholdsitslight. Danny P. Barbare resides in the Upstate of the Carolinas. Some of his poems can be googled under his name.

By Ode Roman Like dew, pure, 'n bright,At dawn, risinggently from dark nightseems, now, my livingup the grassy crestenjoying its rest.But, at first sunshinethe dew softly meltson petals; I designiridescent beltsup the grassy crestaround my quiet rest.Same is my dream of Lovein the sunset's lightsadly melts above,voiding vital might;shining in the lastmemories of the past

By Audrey Kim They wrote me on a piece of thin government paper. My corners are sharp, my words cut deeper. I was not written in loving script, but in rigid type, ink pressed by a military typewriter– each letter punched into me without hesitation. I was sealed with care, being folded up three times along precise creases. The men said I was necessary. I could hear in their tones– steady voices…

By Pablo Libedinsky “You don’t remember me, but I remember you,” the man said to Rosemary as he approached her table.   She lifted her blue eyes from the laptop, took a sip of coffee and looked at him arching her eyebrows. “No. I really don’t remember you.  What’s your name?” “Do you mind if I sit?” She hesitated.  It could be dangerous but then he looked harmless and she knew how to take…

By Farytude Arthur Benette stood by the window of his cottage, watching the last leaves spiral down from the old oak tree. November had carried a weight for him these past four years. It was the month his wife, Margaret, had passed away. He had loved her dearly and could not seem to forget the memories of her. Though only fifty-six, a handsome man with greying hair and green eyes, grief had…

By Gail Brown Kara slowed the spaceship in orbit around Planet Loreia. Loreia was the destination for those who needed a break from the mental stress of daily life, as if there were so many of those these days. Or was it cycles? Truly the cycle on a ship was so different from a planet surface. Any planet. She clicked the comm. “Arrived at Loreia. One week on the surface. I’ll be waiting.” Kara…

By Kandi Maxwell A few months back, when I traveled to my former home in California’s north-eastern corner, I knew the fall colors would be vibrant. The bright yellows of the Quaking Aspen leaves shimmered at the slightest breeze. The tall cottonwoods hadn’t turned completely yellow. Instead, brilliant green and yellow leaves blended together against a sharp blue sky. In the early morning…

By Katherine Casey I know where the sadness lives in you. I know the savagery, too.  I know how it felt to lie on your mother’s chest, skin to skin, and hear her heart beat; how whatever happens and wherever you go, you feel her with you.  I know how your mother lost babies and how each of those unrealized souls somehow landed in you, making it so you were never just your own. I know how it…

Here is a message from Peter J. Dellolio about his new book! I wanted to let you know about my new poetry book that is coming out later this month, Catch Of The Day.    I am very fortunate to have a new poetry collection about to be published by New Meridian Arts Press: https://www.newmeridianarts.com There is a review excerpt on the back cover by Swapna Peri of Book Reviews…

By Jed Neill My hand stopped working ten minutes ago. I hope I’ve written everything down. It’s so hard to tell, the damn page betrays me each time I hold it. Shaking as if scared of taking note. The pen is somewhere here, let me have a look, hold my intentions will you. In the meantime, it might be worth recapping how I got here. I’m a 47-year-old man born in the Home Counties, well, to be…

By Gregory Smith I discovered Eva just before the holidays. The all- Christmas radio station in Philadelphia played her song “It’s Not the Presents Under the Tree (It’s Your Presence Here with Me)”, and I took immediate notice. Something about her soulful, pure voice got to me, much like the first time I heard the great Whitney Houston. Her name was Eva Cassidy (no relation to David). This girl…

By Siha Park Carved into my body are intricate shapesEdges coated in liquid goldBeauty caused by a single bladeTwo faces, one hidden against the wallThere will always be an angle you choose to hide fromIn another lifetime, another life will see meWhat they see, a face they wear dailyCoated in layers of metal and paintDisguised as a tool to show your face The world I see will never depict…

By Anne McPherson Arthurs On a hot Saturday in mid-September, Roger stood near the only shade tree in the backyard, loosely gripping a beer while meat sizzled on the grill. The sky above was a deep, restless blue, cut with shards of thin grey clouds that lingered but offered no relief from the heat. A breeze ruffled half-heartedly at the corners of the red tablecloth clipped to the picnic…

By Jordan Miller CW: Self-Harm Deborah’s heart felt a warm pang of pride watching her daughter enter their new house. The house was beautiful, with a red brick roof, white panel walls, and a blonde awning delicately dangling over the gray wooden porch. The walls had large white windows with green outer trims. An array of colorful flowers blankets the foundation, veiling the black railing. It is…

By Heidi Larsen Give love with meMake it slow and strong.Hold my face in your handsPassionately long.Carry me, touch meEmbrace me in your heat.Cuddle me, spoil me,Sweep me off my feet.Cushion my back.I deserve more than floor.Think of me firstAnd hold my door.When you think of love,Think of me.Brag your love to all You see.Secretly drive behindMe at night,To check up on me,To see I’m…

By Mounashree No sound I’ve heardcomes closeto the sound of silence—All the voices, internal or external,vanishes away.As it feels like guidance.The only soundthat instantly calms my racing mindThis stillness provides nothing but kindnessWhen I sit in an open field,under a tree,and drown myselfin the beauty of being,I notice the leavesgossiping about me—probably laughingat how silly I…

By Keith W. Norris One week old fallen snowLooks like a layer of StyrofoamCrunches with each stepLike a bed of DoritosAnd the groundhog saw his shadow.Newly formed potholeBig enough to be a submarine hatchFilled with muddy waterSplashed on me by a BuickAnd the groundhog saw his shadow.Black ice-covered sidewalkSprinkled with rock saltThat doesn’t work below freezingAnd gives the squirrels high…