Featured Writing

a statue of an angel appears to be blowing clouds into the sky from a horn

The Angel

By Phibby Venable An angel was perched delicately on the straight back chair in the corner, but everyone pretended not to see her. At least it appeared that way to fifteen – year old Katie, who couldn’t take her eyes off the golden wings and slim figure. “Mama, don’t you…

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Posts Tagged The Penmen Review

Masochistic Jockeys

by Elizabeth Hanson While some might lament the demise of the English language at technology’s hand, others celebrate how it has thrown open the window to communications at scale, scattering trillions of missives across the earthly airwaves every day. Our thoughts and emotions distilled into a hip shorthand of abbreviated…

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Equations on a chalkboard

Uncertainty

by Tracy Covel I’ve never liked uncertainty and I hate indecision. I’d rather stay with absolutes and always with precision. Doubts they lead to sadness and sadness leads to pain. The odds are stacked against you if you choose to play the game. The glass can be half-empty, or the…

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Reading Mary Oliver

by The Poet Darkling I gaze upon the poet;her words – ponderless, profound;deep and dark and blue –and think,what such have I to offerfrom my humble beginningsor my sordid pastto justify the title of poet? To answer the unanswerable? To defend my consumptionof fish, of fowl, of air, of love?…

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The Prince Machiavellian

by The Poet Darkling Wrenched from the fryerstraight into the flamesof hatred and avarice goall duty and senseand a thousand convictionswe’ve deemed unneeded,such as dignity, pride,and any righteous defense when our moral leaders areneither leaders nor moraland we give them a passto escape the blamewhich belongs to no oneexcept We…

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What My Parents Meant

by Amy Covel When my parents told me Being an adult would be hard I thought they meant The stress of paying bills on time Or caring for a husband and three kids Or working forty hours a week. I didn’t know being an adult meant Having fallingouts for telling…

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A Pattern

by Twixt A pattern is argyled on the surface of the highland stream, on the trouts’ flank-flash, on the pebbled, fundamental bottom. In its back-drift wake picture-perfects snake.

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Golden Years

by Amy Brian You walk slowly As we go down the road.  Mist flicks our cheeks, One thousand tears in the air.  Your boots drag against the gravel,  Punctuating each step we take.  Pebbles scamper, making blissful declarations:  Pop, pop, pop.  The wind gives us his hello;  Its rhythm can…

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Just the Way It Is Just Before It Changes

by Michael Horton “What scares you most?” She is hugging her knees with both arms, her head slung back so far it looks like it should hurt. After thinking and looking at her for any hint, he says, “Dying.” “No,” she says and waves one arm like she is erasing…

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Femme Fatale

by Rudy Ravindra While taking a short cut through a lush wooded park to the swimming pool, Rahul glimpses, through haze of the morning fog, a divine damsel in a diaphanous dress, swaying gently on a swing. Her thick tangled hair is pulled back with a white scarf, except for…

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Time

by Shannon Still In such a short time, within a blink of an eye, our life can be over and then with a sigh… We look back on the story we so hastily wrote, and ask where the time went ever so remote.  

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