Friday's Children by Afzal Moolla

Massacre at Houla.

She was no more than 10 years of age.

He could have been a grandfather.

Young, old, women, girls, men, boys.

108 lives.

Now they are buried,

in hurriedly dug graves,

on the plains of Houla.

Killed by knives,

shot at point-blank range,

slaughtered, mowed-down.

108 lives.

Snuffed-out. Decimated. Taken-out.

108 lives.

As Damascus lies blatantly,

spewing forth untruth,

108 warm, dead bodies,

remain buried,

in hurriedly dug graves,

on the plains of Houla.

108 lives.

Copyright © 2012 by Afzal Moolla

Also check out my other wordpress website. It's a literary journal called Randomly Accessed Poetics! Submissions are open. We Publish continually. Lastly, Penhead Press's first publication: Randomly Accessed Poetics, Issue 1: The Texture of Words came out. If you're interested you can find it in the kindle store.

This Post Will Reflect Badly On My Character

Previously Published For A Few Minutes On Craigslist in 2010

Found a strap-on harness and bridle in the laundry room of my apartment building. The harness is frayed at the edges from multiple uses with a big black mule cock. And the bit in the bridle has a few teeth marks. It is sanitary now it has been sterilized of all possible bugs in steamy hot water. And all the moving parts have been replaced.

It’s past home found its way into a sweet innocent lipstick candy girl. She was the owner of the bridle. Her teeth marks in the white bit illustrate how her burly master loved her. Their bucks, grunts, moans of pleasure are no longer heard through open windows reverberating off tall walls in the inner courtyard of the Manchester.

This set up is lonely and is seeking a new home. If you can imagine yourself reined into a female beast brandishing a big silicon mule cock then this harness and bridle is for you (and your partner). Experience the exhilaration of a powerful vagina fucking into a lipstick candy-girl pussy with this comfortable worn-in strap-on harness, bridle, and hard rubber bit.

An Attempted Like Poem

Sweet Regrets Crushed Over A Daiquiri

Every time I get a facebook note from you I think strands of what ifs. I muse about our lives if they had been twined together. I scribble your name in the sand and marry your last name to mine with a hyphen just to hear if it fits. It does. When I sing it out loud.

I wish that when I lived near you that I would have asked you out to an evening of board games and beer. But I was too shy. And I thought that you were younger than you looked. I wanted to ask you many questions about your simple lifestyle and your non-traditional Seattle beliefs. It intrigued me that you made beautiful things out of used fabrics and cords for people to wear. In time, I know you will make a living at it.

My thoughts trail off pondering if you could fit into rural life with an old guy like me. And into the evening breeze this thought fades, "do you ever think of me?"

The answer, of course, is probably no

and by morning dreamings of living an ordinary life united to you into old age feathers out into the sun rise like morning dew on blades of grass in autumn

—until you message me again.

Penhead Theater Presents: The Emperor Bonaparte

How to become friends with an Albion sword

Copyright © 2012 by Kurt Studenroth

I am a knight:

       the ones that people say

       go searching for adventures.

Friday's Children by Afzal Moolla

The Shedding of Skin.

parched lullabies seem jarring,

gentle persuasion an assault,

quiet understanding reeking of decay,

fatigued under this skin in which I must stay.

Dreams of moulting,

shedding the hubris of crafty words,

flushing away all famished rhymes,

ripping the fibres of an ink-stained past.

Knowing.

Always knowing,

that honey-soaked kisses, seem destined,

breathlessly,

never to last.

Copyright © 2012 by Afzal Moolla

Also check out my other wordpress website. It's a literary journal called Randomly Accessed Poetics! Submissions are open. We Publish continually. Lastly, Penhead Press's first publication: Randomly Accessed Poetics, Issue 1: The Texture of Words came out. If you're interested you can find it in the kindle store.