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The Warriors Do Not Have The Hearts

I am in search of a heart,
In which miseries,
Of my people could breath;
And the warriors
Do not have the hearts.

My people are born,
But without peace and liberty;
They remain alive.
And die.

When we wished,
To speak for our rights,
Our voices stuck,
To the vocal-cords.

We are the numbers,
With which rulers play,
The game of plus and minus.

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poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Concert Party: Busseboom

The stage was set, the house was packed,
The famous troop began;
Our laughter thundered, act by act;
Time light as sunbeams ran.

Dance sprang and spun and neared and fled,
Jest chirped at gayest pitch,
Rhythm dazzled, action sped
Most comically rich.

With generals and lame privates both
Such charms worked wonders, till
The show was over – lagging loth
We faced the sunset chill;

And standing on the sandy way,
With the cracked church peering past,
We heard another matinée,
We heard the maniac blast

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poem by Edmund Blunden
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The Solo Performer

Light dims down to semidarkness
And we wrinkle our eye corners.
Our cloudy vision through a billowy
Dusty curtain picks the figures shadowy.
The performer begins biting the bass.
No accompaniments. His own' super-cell' harmony.
Very conceited the performer overdoes becoming gloomy
And the concert cracks along the octaves
With the burbling sound of notes.
Unbalanced, lo, he becomes angry
And now with dismantled beats and bangs
The performer kicks, rolls, and scrolls
Sounding screaming, crackling, creaky, croaky
With all that improper concerto music squawky
Toppling you and me in thundery shivers.
Everything getting topped up in swirls
Yelling 'tornado tornado'and falling on each other
We run away from that killer twister
Guarding ourselves from that shearing windstorm!

poem by Indira Renganathan
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50 Million Points

See The 50 Million Points Wrote On The Wall,
Do They Know Your The One That Won't Fall,
Can Everyone See That What You Write,
Come To Life Everyday Bad & Good,
I'm A Thriller A Big Nightmare,
Go Look In The Mirror At Night Time,
See The Image That Comes To View,
Can It Be A Ghost In The Wall,
Bull's eye Everybody On That Single Target,
They Love Me Calling Out My Name,
Wheres The Monster At,
The One Who Turns Into A Animal,
Hide From The People Coming Their My Goons,
I Bet I'm A Dude So Perfect,
I'm A King Where The Queen,
That Don't Matter No More To Me,
Carry Out What Needs To Be Carryout,
Make Everybody At A Rock Concert Shout,
Yes We Can I'm Your Number One Man,
Believe In Me I Keep People Confuse,

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poem by Tommy Laster
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Sensational

Sensational?
Is that the word you trying to say?
Is that what you callin me...
In your special way?
I would say I would agree with you...
But I am overwhelmed,
And quite lost for words.
I am delighted and so humbled.
And yet...
There is a feeling of such nourishment,
With that encouragement I've just heard.
I am, indeed...
Even a triumph in my own eyes.
But I am both amazed and shocked,
You noticed me in sunglasses!

'Sir...
My son has been trying to say 'sit down'.
He has a lisp!
We can not see the concert,

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Obsession

Obsession
The pianist Albert has got a job in Loulé last time
I saw him in Faro and fell over a pollard, he said
he was not my father. When he spotted me he ran
into a café, they let him run through the kitchen
into the back, a dead end; I waited for him there.
“If you don´t stop following me I will have to call
the police, I´M NOT YOUR FATHER.” To mollify
him I said: “ I know you are not, but I do admire
your piano playing. ”This pleased him and we had
a drink and he told me he came from Yugoslavia,
had wanted to be a concert pianist, but there was
no money, so he ended up as a café pianist… just
as my father I thought but said nothing… then he
had to leave for work, saw him walk out of my life
just as my father did, there was nothing I could do
to stop this man who refused to be my dad.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Twisting Fifties And Sixties

Each generation has its own memories
But nothing to compare to the good
Old fifties and sixties.
These were the years of the birth of rock
Mini skirts and bobby socks.
A bit of jazz, a bit of soul
Putting them together it took control.

Then came ELVIS with his gyrating hips
Making all the young girls
Pucker up their lips.
Every song was a story to be told
And the concert tickets all were sold.

The MOON GLOWS, THE HEARTBEATS,
THE FLAMINGOES and such
Had us all hypnotized to this touch.
These songs would touch our hearts and souls
And dancing to this music
Our lives would unfold.

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poem by Louis Rams
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~ Biopsychic ~

~ BIOPSYCHIC ~
Ms. Nivedita
UK.
27 February 26,2010

[Humble submission: BIOSPYCHIC … not used in textual concept…word coupling Biopsy + Psychic = Biopsychic…careful reading will make it clear.~ niv]

Floating silvery clouds
Vocalize vibe in me
Fragranced rummy zephyr
Flutter booze bosom
Youngish splurge spring
Ooohing nerve tentacles
Azure sky oozing smile
Concert of fragrance.

Everything seen
Appears matchless
Tumultuous blood
Horripilate embrace

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poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
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Smile with cause

Smile with cause
Observe little pause
Think of plight
And choose the course right

How will you smile?
When heart is under pain meanwhile
Either be prepared to act like rock
Or run out of courtesy stock

You are human being
You have to act within ring
You can't smile to world
And at the same remain unhappy and cold

You are the one to feel
You are behind the wheel
You can steer out of trouble
As this is your struggle

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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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For lovely child

It is deep love
For lovely child you have
Day and night she is in mind
Desperate bid but could not find

It makes to worry and cry
Thousands of questions asking me why
I earnestly set them aside and try
They come with vigorous attempts ad fly

I intoxicated enough to remain under spell
It did not work and went so well
I suffered a lot but couldn’t tell
The idea was not worth even to sell

The smile has gone away in desert
No flowers, no fragrance, no stage and no concert
I am depressed and feel no pulse
Many ideas try to kill but I vehemently repulse

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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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