Who committed the Barbie crime? The dolls (and the horse) are on the Barbie case.

Maureen Doallas pairs her poem 'A Ladder Our Boat' with Holly Friesen's 'Warrior Canoe' in our latest Image-ine feature.

Maureen Doallas and Kelly Sauer turn up a sweet, juicy bit of visual poetry together.

I moved to Dublin instead and discovered not only blue doors, but purple doors, red doors, yellow doors, grey doors, orange doors, pink doors, green doors … you name it and I will hazard a guess that I could find you a door painted in that exact colour. --Claire Burge shares about her adventures behind closed,colourful doors

Artist Evy Lareau and poet Maureen Doallas pair off to produce a lovely piece of visual poetry.

A girl can dream of stepping out on the High Road, a flame in heels that’ll steel no beau’s heart. What laces each ankle in place she’ll turn to take his fancy and he, blood pressure rising, will let her lead and whirl. “Red Shoes,” acrylic on board, by Nicola Slattery. Used with permission. © [...]

tribes save me from the little tribes the us and them tribes that say who can’t marry who that make you take up a gun to defend them give me those sisters and brothers in the bigger family to link arms with to cluck and strut together to head off somewhere not knowing precisely where [...]

i was blissfully unaware of the fact that people lived with music inside of them. it took falling in love to learn this life truth. he was angled and beautiful: tan skin, rippled with muscle curvature and dark curls that framed his strong jawline. the music inside of him spontaneously made its way out of [...]

When my daughter was born, she came alive into the world with only one tiny cry of surprise. Her little black eyes blinked. She saw nothing – but she saw everything that was important: she was loved; Mama was here; she was a person. I saw for her; I saw her; I learned at twenty-five [...]

come a little closer, i want to seduce you. dip your bare hands into the paint barrels i have placed at your feet, at your sides, up ahead. lift your fingers to the earth blue sky and watch the oily liquid squirm, gravity its game. pull on that overall, flick the hairs of your brand [...]

  She Breathes Cerulean Aquarelle runs deep within the lines of her. She breathes cerulean. . . Floating transparent, in the tides of time.   “She Breathes Cerulean”, original watercolor and poem by Michelle “Shell” Rummel. © Shell Rummel, of Shell Artistree. Designs and collections: Shell Rummel Fine Art & Licensing.     ___________ Try [...]

. Walking Rain It has no legs but the rain is walking the space the White Cloud travels. Earth’s bronzed hard hand welcomes Neomonni’s turned-down lip. Where parched mountain mouths grow stiff with waiting, thirsty bones wrinkle, rattling the distant hills’ enchantment beyond the Trail of Tears. “Walking Rain”, watermedia on paper by Randall David [...]

The scrape of palette knife an accident of memory...

I want her in front of my lens I realise as we drive away. She is poetry in a body.

Lyrics like lavender /lines lifting towards the sky/painting gives new heights