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Do you have a poem or short story you would like to share with others? Do you want to have the opportunity to be pubished? Submit your work to MANA; the work will be anonymously refereed by the MANA Review Board. If recommended for publication, you will be contacted and asked for permission. Upon receiving the author’s/poet’s permission, the work will be posted on THE MANA BROWSERS web page.
This page will give new authors/poets the opportunity to be read by many! And if there are any inquiries, MANA will pass these inquries to the writers of the posted works! Also, this page will put forth special sales.
Sample from some of the works:
The Newest Entries:
The Patient in Room 109
“Steve, you know I don’t date men where I work. By the way, it’s time for you to check on your favorite patient.”
“Cute. I’m gonna’ keep trying.”
He entered room 109.
There she was. Helpless. Emotionless. Staring at the window. Outside, the leaves offered a colorful spectrum of orange, yellow, and green. The brisk winds scattered leaves. Here’s the place she called home.
I come and go. She couldn’t. She was bedridden. The patient in room 109 had been at the Loving Arms Nursing Facility about one year.
I live alone. No kids. No pets. No man, or woman.
My mother raised me. My father was gone from my life at an early age.
Mother raised me to be respectable.
Mother and I last talked about Father a year ago.
Memories of him were limited. He was tall, thin, and had pearly white teeth. He’d always lift me in the air. We’d laugh.
Mother’s account of my father differed. As a teen, I was told he had violated me at the age of five. Mother found me bleeding from my vagina. She whisked me to the hospital. Father was charged with rape. He was sent to prison where he later died.
Mother and I were inseparable.
A year ago, Mother told me another story of my Father. Our bond then severed.
Mother described him as a smooth talking gigolo that took her heart. Mother had come home from work early only to catch my Father entertaining another woman in their bed. She was enraged. Mother concocted a scheme.
Mother admitted she and Father argued until he passed out from the alcohol consumption. Later, she came into my bedroom as I slept. Without pity, Mother described forcefully inserting an elongated meat product into my vagina. I had no memory of the unconscionable incident.
I was furious! How could she? Mother was selfish. She robbed me of my father.
Mother did not appear to be ashamed of what she disclosed. I was the victim of her frame up.
Anger and disillusionment came over me. I approached Mother from behind. I pushed her from atop the stairwell. No one ever speculated foul play.
The fall compromised Mother’s mobility. She had irreversible full body paralysis.
This morning, I entered work feeling much better than before. The morning sun helped.
“What’s happening, beautiful?” greeted Steve.
I smiled. I think I’ll go out with him. It’s time to live and let go.
I began completing my rounds. The patients looked oh so lonely.
“Tammy, can you help me?” Steve asked. He needed assistance in room 109.
As I entered, the patient had tears rolling down the side of her face.
I began to cry as well.
As I neared, I called out the words neither had heard in a long time…Mother.
The patient in room 109 was just that… My Mother.
--Darryl N. Bonner
Michigan
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An Angel on Your Shoulder
I see an angel on your shoulder,
With glory bright as spinning gold.
He's singing psalms and shouting praises,
Exalting He who reigns three-fold.
I see an angel in the heavens,
Kneeling at His Crystal Throne.
He's going out to the spread the Gospel,
And let us know we're not alone.
I see an angel on the threshold,
Knocking gently at your heart.
He's speaking softly of the mercy,
That his Master can impart.
I see an angel peering in,
To the window of your soul.
He's praying you will open the door,
So that you might be made whole.
I see an angel in night-sky,
Lighting stars up with his song.
He sings of all that's holy,
And proclaims it won't be long.
I see an angel right beside you,
Leading you through the maze.
He's guiding you on your journey,
And it is for you that he prays.
I see an angel who's proclaiming,
The sheer majesty of the One.
He's telling tales of death on Calvary,
The price paid by Christ the Son.
I see an angel on your shoulder,
Shining glory now times two.
He's telling tales of your salvation,
Now God has an angel in you.
--Rachel Massey Browne
Texas
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Keeper of the Peace
You work to make calm
after a scene stormy.
You call for discourse—
discussed respectfully.
Not at all placid,
but with exciting tranquility.
You objurgate violence
and do it brilliantly.
The conflict you resolve,
with fierce audacity.
Humane treatment for all—
such humanity!
Divisions make your countenance
frown disapprovingly.
Like a conjunction you work to join
oh keeper of the peace.
—Sarah Jamal
New Jersey
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Spring Garden
Pausing in the hidden courtyard with newly
purchased tickets for Bach’s / St. John’s Passion
in my hands, I see them…
Hyacinths – royal purple and Easter white—
Pale yellow jonquil petals thin as parchment—
The pink arch of cherry blossoms gracing
the bright green lawn.
And one delirious unicorn joyously dancing
Among the swaying golden daffodils.
—Dr. Lin Keesey
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Love is Alive
We are movement; we are music.
We are taste; we are touch.
We are sound; we are silence;
We are laughter; we are light.
We are alive! We are alive! So…
Take my hand and walk with me.
Feel the salt wet sand and dance with me.
Lead me to the water, Love,
I’ll follow thee.
—Dr. Lin Keesey
Florida
The Heart of a Servant
We are your sons and daughters
Your faithful and loving servants
Those who stand or kneel before thee
Those who humble themselves at your altar
We are family in our common faith;
Siblings in our common worship.
Yet as a family we turn away from You:
Stumbling before our Salvation
We are the enablers of our sinful nature
Causing us to waver and falter
Calling at first out to no one
Wanting to right for ourselves what we have wronged.
But when we do finally see You
It is made known of Your unwavering presence
You were always there to guide us through
Yet we refused to accept Your outstretched hand
How can a child refuse to see a Parent
How can a servant refuse to see the King.
We are Your sons and daughter
The soldiers of this Earthly Place
The stewards of Your wondrous creations
And as we kneel before You our eyes are truly opened
For Today we call upon our Heavenly King
To right the wrong that we have delivered.
LaVerta Straham
High School Student
Arkansas
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