By Mohammad Mouselmani
Welcome to Vein-Ink
If I could write something to spill out all I want to say, I'd leave the page empty. Why the hell am I writing then? You may ask. For the same reason I do everything I do, for no damn reason. That's the whole problem, and there's no problem at all. The thing is, I'm far beyond it, even though…
Mohammad MouselmaniNovember 21, 2020
Not a single soul disbelieved in that miracle. The baby has survived during delivery. Could it be not and I am in view for the twentieth year now and on me, the onlookers' gazes rest dumbfounded every time? Everyone was left hardpressed to solidifying anything but a sense of surity in otherworldly miracles. And so, GOD'S backing was and shall…
Fatima ChahnehNovember 21, 2020
The stork is bringing babies, or so I have been told. My neighbor says he saw it; he wouldn’t lie so bold. My wife tells me it ain’t so, and I shouldn’t be upset. But it’s hard to believe her, given the feathers in our bed.
Maurits JacobsNovember 14, 2020
We were missing colours, from the moment we were painted on that empty canvas, no one saw a thing, so they just painted over us. We looked at life from the outside, because we could never really enter. It seemed busy out there, everyone was busy running, but we could never join the race, so we just waited. We waited…
Mohammad MouselmaniNovember 4, 2020
Behold, they're mesmerized by your obsolete death As a pretext of this wide dispersion, the plight of humanity is their ridiculed myth, presiding over scions of pokemon not men Until Solomon's temple is no longer a mystery, or political mass hypnotics get bored of monopoly having recourse to providence mightn't repeal hegemony Poor you trying to liven up to filthy…
Fatima ChahnehOctober 9, 2020
I am stuck in a hole. I know I am. I can see the floor, the light above me. A ladder in front of me reaches all the way up. I have to climb it to get out. I need to take hold of the ladder, go up step by step. I know all of this. I know it. And…
Maurits JacobsOctober 9, 2020
In fragments these questions arise Shard’s when touched soon vanish What is beauty compared to grief? Why is joy in league with sorrow? In darkness lives the promise of light When put to rest; the past we banish For you alone I am still, here in shards In this sliver; time is all we can borrow Splinters of another sanity…
Stephen AllenJuly 24, 2020
Cemetery trees whisperSecrets to the breezeFrom those belowWhom death has choseThis human lawnSilence lies bloomingFor those listeningIf they just chose
Stephen AllenJuly 16, 2020