Unlikely 2.0


   For us there is only the trying. The rest is not our business. —T. S. Eliot


Join our mailing list!


Google Custom Search


Recent Articles:

Iftekhar Sayeed on David Lean's The Bridge on the River Kwai
Jim Chaffee on Richard Powers' The Time of Our Singing
Four Seasons for Serena: Fiction by Tyke Johnson
The Last Straw: Fiction by Jared Booth
Sandblast Me Beautiful!: Fiction by John Michael Cummings
Unlimited Right of Association: Fiction by Dawn Corrigan
Throwing Puppies: Fiction by Alexios Antypas
Doppelganger: Poetry by James Lineberger
Two Poems by Wendy Taylor Carlisle
Two Poems by RC Edrington
Three Poems by Kyle Hemmings
Three Poems by Cecilia Ferreira
Three Poems by SJ McEniff
Three Poems by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal
Three Poems by Patrick Revere
Three Poems by Elizabeth Kate Switaj
The Solow Paradox: Sam Vaknin on the counterproductive IT industry
Joe Bageant discusses subservience to the technocracy
Charles P. Ries examines magazine submission guidelines
Sick Men: A Short Film by Michael Medaglia
Nine Photographs by J. A. Spahr-Summers
Six Visual Pieces with Essays by Adrian Kenyon
Four Songs by Ike Snopes


Bookmarks:

Goodreads

del.icio.us



The First Combination Special Video Contest

Print this article


Three Poems by Patrick Revere

India Calling

We dedicate to you
This interruption
On behalf of god
Or the divine applications
Of our people
All of which will create
Great ease of life
For instance
Consider the great bull's
Powerful urine to heal
Cancer
Conjunctivitis
All types of thromboses
Malaria
Insomnia
And such related maladies
Also use the sun, mud
With a cold towel, and
Saffron with whole foods
"Are you comfortable?"
Watch, don't slip
Let it sink in
Now take tea!
And this with rest
For one and one half hours
As we plan your day




Confluence

i am one man
among 20 million
who walked for weeks
to rest and pray and bathe
here at this convergence
for 30 days
in january

i am one man
named after one god
who rests now on straw
after rice and roti
humble in my cloth
void of music
of gardens
of fountains

if i can breathe
through the seat of my soul
become only the static
of energy astray
i will be alone
here

        floating

in no need
of a name




Aashish Nandan

The water
Flows from Shiva
For everyone to prosper
The ghats
Line the river
With silent colored strength
The nude man
Wears a sullied cloth
Intoxicated atop the stairs
His gesture
Startles passers-by
As he sends a prayer for you


E-mail this article

Patrick Revere is a business journalist in West Michigan who, when he's not copy writing and copy editing, playing with his daughter, watching ball games, hitting volleyballs, refining his prowess at bar sports, or carousing about looking for trouble, enjoys quietly reading and doing a little more writing. He's the author of gads of poems, a fair collection of short stories, and one nearly-complete novel. His closer friends call him Fatty.


Comments

No comments yet
*Name:
Email:
Notify me about new comments on this page
Hide my email
*Text:
 
Powered by Scriptsmill Comments Script