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- Poetry (26)
- Fiction (18)
- David Sparenberg (6)
- Gwenyth E. Hood (5)
- Mythic Circle (5)
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- Dirk J. Verhulst (3)
- Janet P. Reedman (3)
- Lala Heine-Koehn (3)
- Amy Wolf (2)
- Clelie Rich (2)
- Editorial (2)
- Howard Tessler (2)
- K. V. Skene (2)
- Paul Newman (2)
- Zan Agzigian (2)
- A Special Bus (1)
- Alex McGilvery (1)
- Asphodel (1)
- Autumn Cleaning (1)
- Brian Mason (1)
- Brides of Sealmen (1)
- Cassandra (1)
- Cat's Paw (1)
- Charles Rampp (1)
- Childhood's End (1)
- Civic Hospital (1)
- Conda V. Douglas (1)
- Confessions of A Dragon Lady (1)
- Dan O'Keefe (1)
- Dennis Bock (1)
Articles 31 - 50 of 50
Full-Text Articles in English Language and Literature
The Prodigal Son's Older Brother Wonders About The Right And Left Path, Dirk J. Verhulst
The Prodigal Son's Older Brother Wonders About The Right And Left Path, Dirk J. Verhulst
The Mythic Circle
I recognized first the old limp as you walked over the horizon on the road which disappears directly to the left of the sun
Letters Of Comment, Joe Christopher, Angelee Sailer Anderson, Joan Marie Verba, Erin Lale, Anne Valley, Gwenyth E. Hood, Charles R. Schabel
Letters Of Comment, Joe Christopher, Angelee Sailer Anderson, Joan Marie Verba, Erin Lale, Anne Valley, Gwenyth E. Hood, Charles R. Schabel
The Mythic Circle
Letters of Comment, sent in from readers in Mythic Circle #11
The Dream She Never Told You / The River Of Glass / Wooden Masks, Howard Tessler, Zan Agzigian
The Dream She Never Told You / The River Of Glass / Wooden Masks, Howard Tessler, Zan Agzigian
The Mythic Circle
The Dream She Never Told You: Colors dark and somber from a world buried deep in secrets and lore. The River of Glass: dream rocks in the lonely river black rocks smooth the water’s ripple in a mixture of reflection Wooden Masks: i felt the wake of wooden masks, and wept for city lights through swaying branches, raised
Signs Of The Times, Gwenyth E. Hood
Signs Of The Times, Gwenyth E. Hood
The Mythic Circle
The Cherry spread her blossoms in the fall White and dainty among the golden leaves, Before the deep-red-ivy coated wall
Red Hawk Song / Mount Lowe 1978 / Higher, David Sparenberg, Paul Newman
Red Hawk Song / Mount Lowe 1978 / Higher, David Sparenberg, Paul Newman
The Mythic Circle
Red Hawk Song: I admit that I love you. My heart sings strongly through the fires of my body. Mount Lowe 1978: Ruins rambled, too well sifted Higher: Watching the crows' realm, treetop mopers amidst cloud erasers of the blue.
The Silencebringers, David Sparenberg
The Silencebringers, David Sparenberg
The Mythic Circle
The man who loves the earth whose love is genuine
Medicine Cord, David Sparenberg
Medicine Cord, David Sparenberg
The Mythic Circle
I grasp in my hands today the tail feather of a hawk
Sonnet From A Dark Tower, Gwenyth E. Hood
Sonnet From A Dark Tower, Gwenyth E. Hood
The Mythic Circle
I dreamed a dream of dancing silver water that called a distant kingdom to my mind
Passage In The Night, Brian Mason
Passage In The Night, Brian Mason
The Mythic Circle
The fire had gone out and I was unable to get it started again. I had been a Boy Scout and all that, but without dry kindling I could not get more than a few flickers of flame.
Merlin's Winter / Eurydice In The Real World / Walking On Water, Clelie Rich
Merlin's Winter / Eurydice In The Real World / Walking On Water, Clelie Rich
The Mythic Circle
Merlin's Winter: Your season is over now. The Lady of the Lake has closed her villas for the winter Eurydice In The Real World: Orpheus crept unseen into his afterlife through the early dark Walking On Water: Sunset bleeds across the sky, stains my fingers saffron and peaches.
A Special Bus, Charles Rampp
A Special Bus, Charles Rampp
The Mythic Circle
Winter was dragging along its weary way toward spring, which seemed far in an indefinite future.
Enforced Adaptation, V. W. Massie
Enforced Adaptation, V. W. Massie
The Mythic Circle
Coryann Sayre woke to blessed silence. Then she remembered; there was cotton in her ears.
The Rune Master, Conda V. Douglas
The Rune Master, Conda V. Douglas
The Mythic Circle
Emerad stood upon the tower, watching the far-off wisps of smoke from the battlefield.
Sun-Time, Suzanne Burgoyne Dieckman
Sun-Time, Suzanne Burgoyne Dieckman
The Mythic Circle
Mryeshta sat on the riverback, watching skyrr birds skim over the water in little leafy boats. The sun sat high in the sky.
Cat's Paw, Amy Wolf
Cat's Paw, Amy Wolf
The Mythic Circle
The frozen expanse of Balion Wood was silent, save for deerskin boots crunching against snow.
The Theft Of The Sun, Douglas A. Rossman
The Theft Of The Sun, Douglas A. Rossman
The Mythic Circle
It is told that when the great skald Dag Ormseeker was but a mere lad, his mother, the swan-maiden Hervor, sent him off to live with her brother, Ragnar Rune-Wise, the fatherless boy having reached an age when he required the kind of training that only a man could provide.
The Light That Was Lorainne, Dan O'Keefe
The Light That Was Lorainne, Dan O'Keefe
The Mythic Circle
One second, I sat alone in my bedroom, in my wheelchair. I stared out the only window at a neighbor across the street mowing her lawn.
Mythic Circle #11, Tina Cooper, Christine Lowentrout
Mythic Circle #11, Tina Cooper, Christine Lowentrout
The Mythic Circle
Welcome to The Mythic Circle #11. This issue offers some variations on a theme of Winter-into-Spring, particularly Doug Rossman’s notable "The Theft of the Sun"; let us know if you enjoy the seasonal parallelism. You’ll also notice that we continue to run a lot of poetry, including a series of poems by Dirk Verhulst which delicately probe the terror in everyday life, and a wryly lyrical series by Clelie Rich.
Now And Then / Wind, Maybe / Once Upon, Walter Kuchinsky
Now And Then / Wind, Maybe / Once Upon, Walter Kuchinsky
The Mythic Circle
Now and Then: Birds, there in the air and fish, there in the sea then, as now, as then are really one for me Wind, Maybe: Didn’t hear anything, last night Once Upon: ONCE UPON a late night, easy chair, living room, Pheasant Glen
Only Half A Moon Outside, Zan Agzigian
Only Half A Moon Outside, Zan Agzigian
The Mythic Circle
he mumbled low, hidden in past footsteps, beaming through the tom branches needling his head