*Featured Image courtesy of Thomas Kelley on Unsplash.* It’s always a pleasure to see a returning writer on FC. Fiona Sinclair, an excellent writer who has published with us before, has written a new piece that is guaranteed to keep you interested from the beginning to the end. Tom first heard about it crouching over an illicit transistor built by an enterprising boy in tech class. It was breaktime, he and his mates were tucked behind the outer wall of the gym; their “secret” hiding place teachers turned a blind eye to. Each band Radio Caroline announced was met with a choric wail by the boys, because most knew attending the festival was a fantasy. Except for Tom. I could go, he thought to himself, tallying in his mind his not inconsiderable savings account, product…
“Satan’s Shadow” by Thomas J. Misuraca
*Featured image courtesy of Peter Forster on Unsplash* Today we have an excellent horror piece by Tom Misuraca. We don’t get a lot of horror, so this is a welcome treat on FC. Tom is also a prolific writer, so we hope to see more from him in the future! The decrepit station wagon sped out of town. Russell clutched the wheel, squeezing until his biceps bulged. Next to him sat his wife, Trudy, her flesh and clothes caked in mud. Her long, curly hair frizzed by the swamp humidity. Russell felt immaculate compared to her; only his boots were dirty. “It is done,” Trudy repeated over and over, rocking in her seat. They drove away from the sun and away from the evil presence that had haunted them. Russell feared they would never escape….
Two Poems by Joe Bisicchia
*Featured Image courtesy of Eric Ward on Unsplash* This week, we have some lovely poems by Joe Bisicchia. They may be short, but they pack an emotional punch. Enjoy! Venus de Milo Hold me. Don’t be a stone heart. Be real. That simple. That plain. Hold me. Even if just with your eyes. Canvas My father’s hands were calloused from his plastering tool, his hold on his trowel, his carrying of mortar board before he would be lost in a cloud, lost in a Renoir brush, as weather patterns are wont to do. He always said see art in all the blank space. My father, an immigrant, had labored so many facades, long halls and tall vestibules with plaster of Paris, smoothing over surface of every wall to get me through school. Illiterate, yet, the…
3 Poems by Sarah Daly
*Featured image courtesy of Andreas Rasmussen on Unsplash* This week we have some wonderful poems by Sarah Daly. Don’t let their size fool you. They may be short, but these poems are full of emotion. Enjoy! At Day’s End Leaf after leaf drops on the autumn path. They piece a rich quilt of crimsons and golds and corals which cover the dirt; my feet crush them, obliterate them, grind them into the soft earth. But the landscape does nothing to penetrate November’s loneliness. Stars Incandescent circles weave through the night sky, their shadows traversing our tangled limbs and signifying joy, joy, joy. In the Now Don’t say it, whatever you think, don’t say the words, we are trapped in this reality TV lifestyle (go along go along) don’t open your mouth, there is no more…
3 Poems by Josh Young
*Featured image courtesy of Ajeet Mestry on Unsplash* We have an excellent selection of poems for you this week by the poet, Josh Young. He claims to be new to writing, but after reading these poems, he certainly has the makings of a talented writer. Take a look at them below. Violence on TV Violence is acceptable on TV Dead bodies mangled by war Charred corpses of an accident Bloody remains of a murder Nudity is not acceptable Naked bodies are disgusting According to TV censors Except on certain channels Nipples and areolas exposed Cannot be tolerated It goes against our morals Our morals for wholesome TV Full of violence Full of blood Full of gore But free from nudity Phone Addiction the opium high of the screen’s soft glow electronic endorphins are pumped into …
Poignant Miles of Lakeside Boneyard by PS Conway
*Featured image courtesy of Pau Sayrol on Unsplash* Here is another beautiful piece brought to us by our Poet in Residence, PS Conway. Take a look! Clouds hang low o’er Doolough Valley wispt and haunted like we ghosts who recall the horrors of hunger recall a child who fed like sheep eating grass beside the Dead felled roadside recall the cold that bites so deep through gossamer skin, nowhere to hide from the damp, from the cries carrion crows pull out the eyes of a frail father whose name remains oh so forgotten oh so long ago but the land ne’er forgets its recollections will ne’er relent nor forgive a foreign aristocrat’s neglect for the blight of poverty’s anguishes the poor, the chosen folk of Jesus Christ no loaves nor fish for you and I…
Vera West: Plucked Release and Excerpt
Vera West, our amazing poetry barista, has recently released her novel in verse, Plucked. A lot of hard work and dedication went into bringing it to life, and Vera was kind enough to share a brief excerpt of it with us. There’s also an interview at the end to give you some insight into what inspired Plucked‘s creation. 8 I hated the city bus; the sticky floors, the lurking men staring from faded plastic seats. It creeped me out, but it couldn’t be avoided. With my ride secured, the next complication to iron out was a parental signature on Everleigh’s admission forms. I couldn’t transfer without it. The bus stopped at the Ninth Cat, my granny’s barbershop on the corner of a rundown street in my rundown town, but its faded red paint shone like…
4 Poems by L. Lois
*Featured image courtesy of Eric Ward on Unsplash.* L. Lois has submitted some wonderful poems to us that touch on a deep emotional level. She fits right in with our humble community, so let’s give her a warm welcome! Intimate Partner Ricochet Biscuits fragile flowers are precious because they survived the runaround of a dangerous game Ricochet Biscuits played in earnest up is down and questioning sanity is the point where you can’t clarify the rules before the next assault arrives and the survivors spend a lifetime placing themselves in a vase with cracks that seep chips that cut flying objects and words that land crooked forever Literary Ironic from the Times: smart, funny, captivating from the Globe: ingenious literary conceit from the Post: dazzlingly clever, gravely profound from the Telegraph: a comic tale, a masterpiece from the Chronicle: fantastically entertaining from the author: like microorganisms mindlessly intent on some distant objective,…
“I Slept in my Clothes Last Night” by Alan Berger
*Featured image courtesy of Shane on Unsplash* Alan Berger shares another one of his poems with us this week. This poem has quite a sad tone, mixed in with some excellent lines and rhyme schemes. It all goes by so quick One day you’re experiencing Your first licorice stick The next day you’re at your urologist’s Hat in hand covering your dick It was not more than a few ago years When my melodic voice caught pretty ears It all goes by so tough A familiar thought is I have had enough But you plow Somehow I wrestle with myself In the dark With the eternal As I make my way thru the external Sometimes I sit at the end of my bed as my feet shake the floor The guy in the apartment below…
Mario Loprete: Urban Paintings on Concrete Pt.2
We are happy to feature the talented Mario Loprete once again on our website. Mario shares even more of his paintings and sculptures with us, showcasing his unique and captivating style. Artist Statement: Painting is my first love. An important, pure love. The base of my paintings starts from the spasmodic research of a concept and transforms into a message that I want to send to the viewer. The sculpture is my lover, my artistic betrayal of the painting. That voluptuous and sensual lover that gives me different emotions, that touches prohibited cords . . . I worked exclusively on my concrete sculptures in the last few years. I use my personal clothing for my concrete sculptures. Through my artistic process, in which I use plaster, resin and cement, I transform them into artworks to…