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My Canadian Chronicles 17

A group of us went to see a museum,
but unfortunately, it was closed.
We stood and talked to the Porter
asking when it would be open again
and how much it would cost.
My friend Melvina said we are seniors
and we will be back again.
“Oh yes, mum we will,
and can I have some candy
the next time we come mum? ”
A silly grin abolishing my face.
With everything she said
like a parrot, I followed with “Yes mum.”
The laughter rang out among us
every time I said “mum.”
Mel is only a couple of months older than me
and is my big sister really.
We cannot be twins
because I am bleached a little bit,
but she is still my sister

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poem by David Harris
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Paranoid

Everybody says I'm paranoid they all think I'm crazy
They all smile to my face but they'd like to see me die
They put poison in my coffee they put ground glass in my oatmeal
They put spiders in my tennis shoes and shit in my pecan pie
It's hard to stop and figure out where did it all begin
You see my father wanted a little girl and my mother wanted twins
And my grandpa admired Hitler so everything I did was wrong
And I'm gonna stop now cause even though you're smilin' I know you hate this song
Yeah and I know you're only listenin' cause you don't wanna hurt my feelin's
And you're just waitin' for me to leave so you can laugh about my open fly
You put the poison in my coffee you put the ground glass in my oatmeal
You put the spiders in my tennis shoes and you shit in my pecan pie
I know don't deny it I know I know I know

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Soul Families

Now there are soul families
that supposedly had the same soul egg
This is what I am told from a clairvoyant.
Soul families have a lot in common
even if they never met
It goes deeper than reality
it's something you can't beget.
Just like identical twins
that develop the same
traits—
we have lived past lives
together—not all of them great.
Not all soul mates are meant to
have your special relationship—
a lot of people think soul mates are hip—
Remember on this plane we are human—
so we learned the planetary dream—
I had a soul mate one time be really mean.
Now sorry to get personal - I did digress—
very different experience in my life I do confess.

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poem by Suzae Chevalier
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On Your Own

Stop thinking you need me to lead the way.
Or someone else to hold your hand,
To help you avoid traffic on a crowded street.
Open your eyes and carry your own weight.
Don't depend on me,
To be there to protect your fate.

Know what it is like to defend and debate...
That which is in your heart.
And not that which you fake...
When it is convenient for you,
To decide you feel safe.

Hiding behind walls,
With a mind that finds it easy to define...
What is or is not real for all
From a point of view stalled without experience.
Just to live a life you wish.
Is not a burden I choose to live with.
And wont.

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The New Generation

Betrayed and backstabbed
By our African brothers.
Insulted, humiliated and robbed
By Our European brothers.
We are the descendants
Of defeated Kings and Queens.
We are the infants
Of two distressed twins.
Sold like cattles,
Winners of many battles:
We are the new generation,
We are the fine products
Of a new creation.
We walk proud like ducks
Of the newly man-made lakes,
We helped and we chased away the fakes:
We are the dreams of our forefathers.
We are, at last, speaking in unison,
Like cousins, like brothers and sisters;
Every day, we are forging new union.

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poem by Hebert Logerie
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Sister

Sister's daughter, so fair and lovely,
Bubbling with a crown of jetblack graceful tresses,
A striking resemblance to sister's own childhood many years back
When she had cried waiting at the doorstep
Because of the late trishaw which meant
An uneasy morning kept outside the classroom.
Then our ego boosting competition, me at 10
and she 12 as we took terms to learn
To ride the bicycle trying to make that
Daring first round at the pedals that
Would determine the winning one. She won
Getting back the type of respect reserved
For an elder. Daughter and mother now
Walking like twins through market and
School winning much admiration from a
Brother who once took terms with her to buy
The morning breakfast for the family at the
Neighbourhood, a memory made more striking
By my occasional failure that led to
An upset sister doing my chore. Love, forever my sister.

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Nineteen Years Is Long Enough (Revised)

For the first time in nineteen years I'm planning
Christmas with my parents, to be with them as
one singing Carols, preparing delicacies to eat -
but particularly singing songs mother wrote,
presenting the play she designed for us ages
ago when we twins were just six years old

Back then my brothers and dad spoiled things -
but this time we can present mother's songs less
their interference, and afterwards I can go for a
spin on brother-in-law's motorbike, making up
for events we missed when small - yes, this
Christmas will be a grand reunion ball

For the first time in nineteen years I shan't be
home; it's either or, never parents and hubby
together, and though he was angry hearing
my plans - after nineteen years he cannot
really complain - it is the first time I shall be
with them - I think it is fair,

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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Paradise on the Rocks

I dwell in the mountains up high
Higher than the Petronas yet shy of Everest
In the land of the precious stones and rich shores
In the gold coast where the freedom for the black star began
In the land of oil and of greens where nature still lives
Love and freedom in this land are twins

Down the heights the people trade and mine
Men and birds soar over the rocky slopes with wings spread
As a hairy man, trees and grass cover nearly his entire face
Seen smiling he is, always, with eyes gleaming
The top of his head though not bald is clothed in white
Cloudy, misty and foggy intertwined with every branch

Up there, the air is pure and the herbs life
The ground is rich and the water mineral
The wind symphonic and the feels, oh dear, freezing…
This is where I dwell; this is where I am alive
My little place of harmony, my haven
I call this my paradise…my pied-à-terre

poem by Nicholas Boateng
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Beauty In Summer

What beauty is reborn
On such a summer's morning.
As broken hearts still torn
Take hope within the dawning.
That healing song
My soul does kiss
From Blackbird's serenade of bliss.
Hung in the gallery
Of memory
- This art.
Daubed with colours
The sky set free.
To start
A raindance of serenity.
To enhance
With scent of bloom
Such summer beauty.
From winter's gloom.
That tinkling piano of silver stream,
I lie with you

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poem by Kevin East
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The Fact Is, In The World Of Lies, Life Is Fair

accept the fact that sometimes we say things
that we do not mean, that sometimes we burst in anger
and we hurt and then we apologize that we do not really mean to hurt

sometimes we show feelings too that we do not really want to express.
sometime we say 'i love you' and yet we are just compelled to do so

someone is dying and he needs you badly at the end of her day.
sometimes, accept the fact, that time strains us and we become

the liars, the hypocrites, the fraud, and the swindler.
and most of all, we keep it for a time, making some stares straight in the eye.

accept this fact, we are humans and in some harsh times
we decide, to survive, at all costs, no matter what.

now, we shall talk, and you shall listen and i shall write about the truth
of this fact. we are us conjoined twins in the art of deception.

lie to me as i lie to you and then we accept this fact: life is fair.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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