The Birth of Things

The rain drop splash puddle on sun wet brick is where we find pulse. The grey wash sky blesses fingers curled around a coffee cup. This is the space where we are all poets. Silence bleeds around each cactus needle. The moment before Word. Korey Wallace studied English and Creative Writing at Briar Cliff University; divides […]

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The Man Who Knew Too Much

Originally posted on The Return of the Modern Philosopher:
If I had to describe my life as a Hitchcock flick, Modern Philosophers, Psycho would obviously be the first one to come to mind. Today, however, the Hitchcock title that worked perfectly was The Man Who Knew Too Much. I enjoy filling my head with knowledge,…

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A Letter from One Mother to Another

Originally posted on The Rahma Diaries:
Dear Irresponsible Migrant Mother, What exactly were you thinking when you woke your children in the dead of the  night, picking up the baby still asleep?  Don’t you know how important it is for children to get enough sleep? They’ll be cranky during the day if they don’t sleep…

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The Ultimate Running Playlist

Here’s my playlist. Just a list. Something upbeat for today. What’s on yours? Chaos & Piss- Pink Never is a Promise- Fiona Apple Into The Ocean- Blue October Sleep To Dream- Fiona Apple Brick- Ben Folds Five Pale September- Fiona Apple Some Nights- Fun How Come You’re Not Here- Pink Stay-Rihanna FourFiveSeconds- Rihanna The Heart […]

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It’s Time for Me to Speak: I Am an American Muslim

Originally posted on Open Thought Vortex:
I never planned on giving a bio when I started this blog, never intended to share personal narratives, never intended to detail my education or merit. This blog was to be a platform for my creativity and writing. However, due to the recent events in Chapel Hill, the Indiana…

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Two Poems by Leah Mueller

ILLEGITIMATE I don’t blame you, I blame your mother and the three months you spent in limbo, as if you were still in the womb draining the embryonic fluid while fretting, knowing a change would come, and it most assuredly would not be good. You live in that space between arms, those appendages that refuse […]

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