I Am Scared of the Night by Indunil Madhusankha
As the dusk creeps through the summit the once luscious sun dips below the rocky mounts And flocks of birds soar away weaving intricate patterns …
The Metaworker Literary Magazine
Where great stories are forged.
As the dusk creeps through the summit the once luscious sun dips below the rocky mounts And flocks of birds soar away weaving intricate patterns …
Do not allow the quietness that saturates the halls of night break through the dawn. For it will shatter all perception of time …
Gracefully inept at life’s perfection gleefully disorganized and simple who put the milk in the top freezer? Sometimes I think gremlins reside here glowing and …
Fragments of dreams scattered among the ruins of once lofty ambitions, buried along with lost loves and white lace promises Standing tall against the crumbling …
The tweeker’s Boggy, alcoholic eyes Bulged unblinkingly Within inches of mine Setting the stage For mere players In this mosh pit At the intersection of …
You were the ocean foams, and I was the golden grains of sand. You were the heron that flew above, and I was the salty …
I used to pray for a wild soul risky enough to give me part of herself when she knows it is likely I will not …
Darling, listen. no matter what we do our fingers will end up blistered, our palms bloody if we look into the mirror long enough to …
Someone would love to have you for a daughter; Wouldn’t mind you in the attic, stealing their things. The walls would be yours, as …
The fog was making whispering sounds It was rising up from the earth Like spirits from the past I spit dust from my mouth …
She camouflaged herself at a darkened far table, idled away time by tapping a spoon against her drink glass; on the opposite side of …
A very pretty girl wears the same brown clogs every day sometimes. Between all the rain-soaked steps we took and the part where she left, …
We sit on the precipice of Heaven and pollution; you hand Me an empty box and promise Desultory protection. Our bodies, superimposed From two …
absent of pearls in a grand ocean mollusk crying self righteousness without salty tears seeking to find truth in an unrelenting fervor see the dark …
Sometimes I like to reimagine religion and the stories I was told as a child, so that it fits the way I understand the world …
If I were to outlive you, I would feel the poet in me blackening, nails pulling in like a sea of petals in the mouth …
I reveal the parts I want you to see you think you know me masquerade ugly thoughts inside my head mourning at the side of …
The doctor’s handsome and that makes it worse… more bad news from the lips of handsome men. We need more tests, he says. Well no …
Hypertension: Each bus line a grime-filled artery, Each soup line snaking concrete corners, slithering in human filth like wet soil, wet and thick …
What I’m saying right now is meaningless – because a word spoken alone is a word spoken in vain. Like a tree falling in an …
Let’s make this a pissing contest. Place your bet with mine. I’m bound to win if winning means a longer yellow line. ‘Cause yellow’s the …
I don’t think in Bengali, I think it is just one of those things that fold my body the way my grandfather used to. At …
“He laid his head in my palms And I watched as he grew a garden of roses Across a dying field. He had the power …
Catacombs and catastrophe fill my head. I cannot sleep. We end up going for a drive. The car pushes past streetlights and traffic stops— little …
I’ve spent the last two years trying to figure out how to pull this trigger finger from my mouth and blast the sour blackness out into …
I. I jump at the slightest touch on my cracked back. Fierce mountain wind rushes around me. My ears, too long and pointy. A cold …
portuguese lyric lilt xe’s, lifting ocean inflection lifted south american toneflexing a talker’s tongue one ganders in psychadelic wonder when they codeswitch– one is jealous …
A blank is waiting to get painted, a bank shimmers with slimes and silt. I have waited for you; liquid caresses, and the kisses of …
Madeline loves it And sits as Mother would. The priest is like her Father Dressed all in grey, Palms fluttering with Paper clowns, Legs and …
She reads new poetry in old settings, antique store turned coffee house, dressed in black sweater, skirt and stockings, perched on the edge of a …
This one’s a very special post. We’re presenting to you the work of the highly accomplished Albanian Poet Irsa Ruçi, both translated, and in its …
Success is a function of desire when I was younger it evolved into an adrenaline addiction Instead of running from death I decided to chase …
I’m always finding myself writing about fire Maybe because I always got so much to burn maybe cause I’m a fire sign it’s easy because …
Rachelle Pinnow is also a professional geologist and a part-time writer. A graduate of the University of Calgary’s creative writing program, her short stories and …
Reason for waking, lofty faded dreams soft steps in grass eyes raised skyward Brisk breeze blows wind swirls on water geese march in air reality …
I joined the most well-adjusted band in America. My fault for believing. After twenty days and twenty nights I lost my lease on life with …
I used to think girl meant pink meant birthday cake roses wilting for safety & always use your inside voice but sometimes it means shout …
Rachelle Pinnow is also a professional geologist and a part-time writer. A graduate of the University of Calgary’s creative writing program, her short stories and …
You can cage me in fireworks But I won’t wither from entropy I was once resilient to the loss Or maybe I just absorb it …
Addison Namnoum and The Metaworker Editorial Staff would like to dedicate this poem to the victims of the Orlando shooting, and to their friends, families, …
I ask carbon, what does it feel like to be backbone? To have multiple arms? To be mother to all of me. Mother to all …
I don’t want that smart bomb sort of love, that painless thing all beset with clang of rust knife, mouse click, screen swipe, before you …
There is something he forgot Something he had do to today He stands in the driveway Next to the black BMW Taps his foot …
Diamond shimmers within sand, an ardor in the moon’s brightness; a whisper. Stealing of devoted memories cast one’s heart off into eternity; the promissory. Talking …
Late night insomnia in la ciudad that never sleeps is a gift. I slip between the dusk, waltzing weaving between hum of streetlamp. Twirling in …
Is it a cricket, a refugee, chirping behind solid bars? Rub the legs, hope to see, there is nothing in the darkness. Close the eyes, …
Seep Thought like a torrent of water Seep- drip, drip, drip. Each mould to old ideas that drip into a now opened mind. …
I have seven alarm clocks programed on my smartphone Which I place under my pillow at night Seven alarm clocks that are set 5 minutes …
Every night I’ve lain awake with baited breath. Shadows flash across the ceiling as cars pass by the window. There is a woman out there, …
Lightning strikes like the silhouette of the city and for a moment, the air blisters with Saint Elmo’s fire over the Arby’s sign. The …
How am I fitting in this right now? It’s been years, centuries since I was small enough to terrorize villages and miniature pedestrians in this …
Torrin Greathouse is a Literary Journalism student and governing member of the Uncultivated Rabbits spoken word collective at UC Irvine. They were the 2015 winner …
Without Roots Without Roots this Ikea bed supports me just about as well as a twig supports a tree house Glue sticks Paper thin is …
To the rail Taken under duress, mid congress, my petticoats torn, I find myself bound to the track. Ostensibly, for ransom. But who pray tell, …
Wil Deas lives and writes in the city of Los Angeles with his cat Murder Mittens. A recent graduate of Chapman University, Wil is doing …
They Sleek bold bodybound by expectationsby gendered declarationsforced to function in conversationssplit in twain by ‘his’ + ‘her’, no ‘they’ How to navigate this intimate …
He comes for honey, sweetness of the meaty earth he plants his flag in. Sunlight pollinates the horizon with gold. He moves like a rolling …