The NY Literary Magazine

A Distinguished Selection of the Finest Modern Literature



Spacing in, act 1: clairvoyance – Poem by Dorina Li

during her first steps
she cannot see through her eyes on the wings
thus she cleans her inner lens from magnifying –
with every other step she listens to her soles Read More

One Pixel on an Immense Black Screen by Tom Higgins

A tiny, pale blue dot,
is all there is,
it is not such a lot
but it is everything
to us.
We share this speck
of dust in a void,
and what we are,
what we were,
and what we become,
is all because
so far Read More

Whirlwind by Tyla Merrill

I am a mime.
Burning fingers pressed
against frozen air.
Fingerprints engraved on the whirl
of wind that guards your heart,
hides your heart,
traps your heart in the eye
of the storm. Snatches
wisps of meaning
with intrusive fingers.
Promises bits of something better…
promises unfulfilled.

I draw closer.

Laughing, taunting, stealing
the breath from my lungs.
Worn lungs,
searching for air,
gasping for words,
for some part of myself
to launch into the wind
as if it could reach you.

Read More

Something Wild by Phil Roberts

When I was still young and fresh
A million years ago
I walked on edges
Always on the edge of something
Something wild

Bright lights and long nights
Lots of laughter and music

Read More

Vis Vitalis by Edward J Davis

Earth, Stars, the canvas, brushed
Each being a thread in its tapestry
Illuminating verses in history’s ode

Soul; Debate of old, Mortal’s kin
Far fonder than a blissful reverie,
Aura of vibrant, pure wonder,
Scents of nature divine

Read More

The Old Roadway by MacabreeLewis

Something is menacing in every bemuse;
as something unspecified grows into my cranium.
flare of old remembrance transpire me into a nerve-racking feeling.
The boundary in my intellect has become slain;

The road I stride has become deceased;
as all subsistence commodity thing’s are lamented.
The only thing that exhalation is only the extinct zephyr.

Read More

Awaiting the Muse by Puja Bhakoo

Like a Metaphor, a Poem brushes my Lips
A Surge of Emotions waxes… Then stops
Before I clutch the ephemera, it slips
Bursting Dew in a million Drops

Fighting the Wild Thicket of Thoughts
Imploring the Jumbled Clouds to Clear
I Seek Inspiration to dawn its Brilliance
The elusive Muse to Shed its Fear

Crouching behind a Facade of Whimsy
It’s There, I Know… Just a trifle Shy
Its Delicate Heavings tug my Heart
Flirting the Corner of my Eye

My Being Thirsts Coherence
Those Minty Floods of Creative Flush

Read More

Ode to a Meadowlark by Rick Puetter

Ode to a meadowlark

Ah, rising sun, kiss morning’s dew
Chill breath of night away thou chase
A sprite from trees there yonder flew
But why flies he away in haste?
As I through meadows lonely pace

Crimson orb, paint sky with red
On fields, again, new day doth break
Yet from love’s loss my heart has bled
And Sorrow, joy of life does take
As o’er these fields my way I make

And I have suffered now so long

Read More

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