Parousia Magazine Indwelling Issue 13

I welcome you to the long-awaited Parousia Magazine Indwelling Issue 13. Thank you for staying true to us, cheering us on, and giving us all the positive vibe we need. I have personally received your gracious embrace in calls, messages, and in-person greetings and this kind act of yours doesn’t just give me joy but…

PAROUSIA CHRISTMAS SHORT STORY CONTEST 2021

PAROUSIA CHRISTMAS SHORT STORY CONTEST 2021 we are pleased to announce that Parousia Magazine is open for its annual Christmas short story contest with a ₦25,000 prize. The theme for this year contest is “A Christmas Miracle.” Deadline is December 22nd, 2021. This contest is open to Christian writers from Nigeria only. The winning entry…

Two Poems from Ann Privateer

Hair Woven, pressed, rolled, washed, curled, cut, shaved, combed, dyed, dried, tied, fried, palmated, braided, wired, piled, styled, tamed, rinsed, renewed, wind blown, flipped, up, back, under, clipped, unruly, wiry, teased, twisted, red, blond, gray, auburn, brown, chestnut, silver, ginger, sandy, bleached, black, fuzzy, sculpted tresses, mops, manes– Art: the color of hair. Above and…

GOD SEEMS DISTANT by Abasiama Udom

GOD SEEMS DISTANT Humans are close But cannot understand and this place of a leader I want no more. The price is too steep, the depths too wide God seems distant, my pain is all I hear. BIO: Abasiama Udom is a polymathic writer and poet, she writes from Akwa Ibom, Nigeria. Her works have been…

I WILL by Abasiama Udom

I WILL I will stand by your door I will knock till you open I will call out your name even in eternity’s yawn my legs hurt, my fingers bloody my voice hoarse Yet I will stay, Arms wide open Proclaiming a love you desire I will stand by your door, I will knock, I…

In the Morning by Ann Privateer

In the Morning When sun shines in And flaws take shape Because mother said You must be perfect Even if the man in bed Isn’t, I’m wed to someone I don’t know who owns Summers of snow No flowers, no hope With nothing to guide Even love needs faith To shine through. Bio: Ann Privateer…

An Antenna by Ann Privateer

An Antenna Sits on my windowsill Two long silver fingers As thin as fishing poles Like a V for victory Pointing to heaven Captures the signal From networks in the ether Connecting me To comedy, sometimes Or news of the day And then, I’m not alone. Bio: Ann Privateer is a poet, artist, and photographer.…

​Call for Submissions | Heal the World Issue 12 | Parousia Magazine

  PAROUSIA Magazine is calling for submissions for it 12th Issue to be published by September 2020 The theme of this forthcoming Issue is HEAL THE WORLD Psalm 147:3 KJV He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds. Heal the world is a theme inspired by the present pandemic that has plaqued…

A Poem from Kelsey May | PAROUSIA Magazine

  Your Hands, Instruments of God after Francesca Bell Oh, the mooring. The fishing boat stranded, sandbarred & unsaved. Who can salvage when each net is tangled in coral, when what is underneath & unseen is fated. Then the pierced palms. The feet calming the storm, no more waves, no more wind. How the moon…

A Poem from Rick Davis | PAROUSIA Magazine

  LOVE AND A PHONE CALL I call you On the phone And as we talk Angels glow. We share secrets Like whispers of wind Reclining beneath Moonlit night. The outside world Is voiceless lightening And our shared Conversation Is like listening sky. As we speak Peaceful blue shadows Fill my living room And you…

Balm by Victoria Crawford | Poetry | PAROUSIA Magazine

  Balm Jagged glass shards shedding their twinkle slivers crystals of dust lacerating callused soles, souls dry air, hard air slicing skin dogs panting hot season gasps beyond even the embrocation devotion of balm Mary Magdalene rubbed over the feet of Jesus Rain patters on metal roof, unheard, unnoticed until I wake into cloud-shadowed morning…

Three Poems from Kelsey May | PAROUSIA Magazine

    Thirty Candles Burning   I never expected the betrayal, the dew so sweet I hit it under my tongue and didn’t tell a soul. Days passed, and I didn’t sleep. I untied all the ropes. The morning thistled but couldn’t tempt me. I brushed my hair with a gold-toothed honeycomb. The lion’s claws…

true self by Rick Davis | Poetry | PAROUSIA Magazine

lying on the pillowy bed i count my breath running from random thoughts like jonah fleeing nineveh i encounter a system of larks realizing that the observable universe is transient and less than real as i eclipse the depths of peace finding a God of mercy in daffodils & tulips allowing myself to become an…