Musings

  • Welcome | Dream Noir Magazine

    Welcome | Dream Noir Magazine

    Mission Statement Hello, and thanks again for stopping by. I greatly appreciate it. When I started working for different editorial boards, that gave me leverage on finding what was needed for this magazine. In the process, I ran into various creators that gave their input on what defines art. However, I didn’t like how there…

  • Melodies

    Melodies

    by Fania Bergstein Artist: Lois Mailou Jones You planted melodies in me, my mother and my father,Melodies, forgotten hymns.Seeds, seeds my heart carried –Now they rise and grow.Now they sprout offshoots in my blood,Their roots intertwine in my arteries,Your melodies my father, your songs my mother,Awaken and reverberate in my pulse.Here I listen to my…

  • Ne eligat is qui donum accipit

    Ne eligat is qui donum accipit

    by Andy Betz I sat in the driver’s seat waiting. She sat in the passenger seat watching me suffer. The rain took its cue from her success and began a slow trickle, just enough to make it excusable to remain with her, not enough to justify leaving. I should have departed nonetheless. Her perfume became…

  • Two Poems

    Two Poems

    by Leah Mueller Artist: Tom Quigley Missoula Your town along the Clark Fork Riveroverflows with homeless tents,cluttering the bucolic landscapeat a similar ratio to Los Angeles or San Francisco: cardboard scraps,ripped tarpaulins, discarded REI tentsresuscitated from dumpstersand repurposed into homes. I remember your extendedvagabond stint in 1980s Madison— sleeping on heated parking rampsin the depths…

  • In A Day’s Work

    In A Day’s Work

    by Andy Betz Artist: Dawn Siler Perchance to not dreamThe ability to legitimately designCreate what is thoughtTempting form and function to entwine With perspicience on a limited leaseAnd serendipity in slews beyond scoreBring forth what the doge demandsAnd what the masses will adore. Andy Betz Andy Betz has tutored and taught in excess of 40…

  • Time, Down, and Wary

    Time, Down, and Wary

    by Moiya Gooden Mona sat on the floor collecting her small stash of freshly washed baby blankets and arranging them into neatly folded, color-coded stacks beside her. She looked at the little black trunk, gifted to her by her grandmother at her baby shower a week earlier, and opened it and placed the stacks inside.…

  • Lovesick Musings

    Lovesick Musings

    by Joshua Byrne Artist: Lucia Tsujiguchi GoodbyeAmidst whispered pines,Love’s flame fades to twilight’s kiss,Farewell’s gentle sigh. Moonlite KissesSurrendering stars,dance upon the ocean’s edge,time’s waves in our hands. Natures TruthFeathers wear the wind,Whispers in a silent wood,Trees speak what they should. Joshua Byrne My name is Joshua Byrne, I am an 18 year old student.

  • A Line Before The Other

    A Line Before The Other

    by Dina Hendawi  Artist: Nisha K. Sethi “When are we going to stop calling these terrorists the fringe and realize that they’re the mainstream.” Everyone around the staff table is uncomfortably quiet. Trent is talking to Allen, but really directing the conversation towards us. It is hard to tell if he is baiting us for…

  • Horehound Candy

    Horehound Candy

    by Marco Etheridge Artist: Igor Markov Lieutenant Bondar scanned the battle-scarred landscape through a pair of heavy binoculars. He reconnoitered from inside a hidden basement bunker, elbows propped on the sill of a blown-out window. The powerful binoculars compressed the perspective of the broken land before him as if capturing the scene between plates of…

  • Three Poems

    Three Poems

    by Carla Sarett Self-Portrait as Shostakovichplays stud pokersmokes a packtap dances on pianosleeps in unlit stairwellvalise packedprays not yet not yet Self-Portrait at Dinnerone person hereone person missing Addendum for Healthcare ProxyIf I lingerbefore dying Know I’m readyfor what is next. But before you setme free, play the Brandenburgsto the last note, then againjust in…

  • To M.W.

    To M.W.

    by Gabriella Garofalo A motionless warm airOld haggards stuck in food and ailmentsFlyers taped on the light poles, showing mislaid kitten-Your die hard habits, October, you old maverickDon’t we know your elegant gaslightingHas form and attitude, much to the chagrin of the waves Who never look smartHard as they tryOf a light you keep stalking…