by the rains — a veil seen.. unseen winds that chill — and not notions unfurled, whimsied I see you there — and not. drown the trails, blurred dreams to splatter in yonder hold the skies, reign the rains till it’s time to wander, not. Viraji Ogodapola © May, 2023.

The Howling Owl Anniversary Celebrations — Following up on The Screech from Zay last week, we are now ready with the list of nominations for our Reader’s Choice Awards 2023 — hoot! hoot! We set out to make way for an uplifting platform for sharing our craft at a pace comfortable to us. Somehow, we seem…

between breaths — At the beginning I used to look for something in between the breaths. Often it was some quiet peace, a composed calm or a little unperturbed serenity. Instead, I was almost always confronted with agitated feelings, wavering thoughts and a drifting mind. …

herring’s tale — Time’s done, for those who seek, of that, I leave no qualms bleak azure skies, farther than the birds would ever reach.. here for the herring’s tale, come I, today hic et nunc.. tired eyes these, mine sore gorged gory in feed, forced devoid much yet, of vision freed your sight, binding…

everybody knows… — ¹It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth the falls, the lulls and the mum savage (yeah!) — the song — pecking, irking, kissing hearts. ²You saw her bathing on the roof Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew her You can please the lord, much less the mortal heart, coded…

of prose, poetry and kindred spirits… — In the nights we preach and perch Whence the souls weary, weep and lurch With the lights dim, we plough and sow Through days grim, in might the hearts avow Your truth far-stretched, my comrade dear Resonates not, with mine laid in grand veneer Unbigoted in peace, joyously we foregather On…

in the sun — Desires have us seek more wounds on vapid repeat so to nurse and soothe When the motes dance in and out of the sun’s beam, Mark your trail staunch true Shifting paradigms from deep within the I, of Self — hoarded, amassed Through the storm wayward in the teacup, unruffled I, step out in blithe Viraji Ogodapola © August, 2022.

…a rainbow away — hold onto ends, loose splicing the lives asunder patching up the skies crescent and the trough an ascent and a descent only a heart knows glide along hues light as the universe crumbles in a day’s vent Viraji Ogodapola © May, 2022.

for the next story — And in the end the wreath has a name — different — to the ones you loved — in the living years. “Take it from me¹” he said; “the shadows on the floor are brittle² — and are the type to be wrapped in³…” — and got snapped back by…