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Enough Weight

I was really shocked and saddened
The death of two people hardened
My views on divine weapon of death
Which is on our head till the last breath?

Both were dear one and very close
It raised many questions and posed
Its validity and threat in human eyes
Even thought it has wide acceptability

'Will you not come once at my home? '
I turned to see friend's sister waiting to welcome
'You have not dropped in even single time'
I want you to be at my home sometimes

She was diagnosed as last stage cancer patient
Hr chances to remain alive were very much absent
I could see death fear in her vocal request
Even though she tried to remain calm at her best

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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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I Hear The Annual Rhetoric

My ears I keep open.
And I hear the annual rhetoric.
Spoken by some in glorious tones...
About uplifting the quality of life of those,
Of our brothers and sisters...
Who have done their best,
Avoiding to get stuck...
In cracks wrapped around loopholes.
The ones...
Many have accepted to address their unhappiness.
With a lack of discipline and purpose self confessed.

I hear the annual rhetoric.

Yet a slow slipping done,
Into a fissure has grown to become an abyss.
And 'annually' I've been approached and asked...
To express an intelligent response about this!

However...

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Void, Noting Nothing

As nature hates a vacuum NOTHING can
be but a figment fragment second-guessed.
Reality and dreams combine, their quest
is thus to banish NOTHING then to span
creation's vastness, scanning big bang's van,
from tao trip evolution's also-ran
to space displacement through one thousandth dan,
to Time condensing on initial jest
when request and inquest converge in gest.
Atoms void avoid, spin tails till trail's lost, rest
contest, contestants, distance, über plan,
arresting surface difference with zest.

From mess congestive to suggestive test
of chaos, universal fractal fest
patterns pitter patter, matter must
invent itself from, to, through, into dust.
robi3_0748_robi3_0000 WXX_CEZ for previous version see below

(18 February 1995 revised 6 May 1995 slightly revised and retitled 28 August 2009)

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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Going to church

I was called up to a military camp
and we were in tents in Parrow
and I was seconded to a special unit
on our way to De Brug
from where we would go to Luhatla
and from there to war in Angola

and although we were guarded
by marines
some guys at night sneaked
through the patrols
and I could have accompanied them
if I wished,
but they visited paid girls.

Time after time I had requested
to be transferred to a unit in Pretoria
where I lived,
but my letters came back
stamped request denied.

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poem by Gert Strydom
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Kickin' It With My Chick

'Hey dude,
Whatcha been up to? '

Just kickin' it with my chick.
Tryin' to make it.
And doin' my best not to be depressed,
During these economic times.
What about chu?
Whatchu been up to?

'More or less my game is the same.
Tryin' to maintain and ignore the pain.
And ain't tryin' to focus on what I ain't got.
But diggin' on what I have.
And glad about it.'

~And some folks ain't choking up with tears.
Doing what it is they gotta do.
And some folks may not wish to show their fears.
Knowing how to take life as it is.

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My dear alcohol

My dear alcohol
How nice are you to us
Your ingestion takes us to heaven
We float with confidence
We feel we have solutions for
All problems
Your circulation within
Makes us understand
The purpose of our living
What magic you perform
Within us is a still wonder to me
Medical science says a
A number of things
You can do to us
While you are present
In our blood stream
I do not understand a word of it
But, yes, I experience

Such a good person like you

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poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Lips Spilling With Disrespect

Grateful today I am not to be raising children.
By anyone's definition,
Of just how old those children grow to be.

And today many are raising children,
Who have skipped lessons taught in their childhood...
With a missing of a switch.
To be in their 30's...
With a lot that has been missed.

I did have a son, Michael...
Who many years passed away.
And I cringe at the thought,
Of what today he, Michael, to me would say.

Lips spilling with disrespect,
From the mouths of these children...
Who are quick to express how they are upset,
Would motivate me to the first policeman I'd see.
To request my immediate arrest from their mess.

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Poetry-question answer form

Day starts with good wishes from the friends,
Gives feeling as if world never ends,
So much pleasure in accepting the greetings,
Promises to see and forward to meetings,

With opening of box attention is drawn,
Suddenly runs chill and stands withdrawn,
I fear some harsh comments from the senior,
Still I gather the strength and face as warrior,

Q: -What type of invasion is this in our comment box?
Why is it flooded with good morning and serve as hoax?
Why you want to kill the poetry in its infancy?
Is it one kind of breach in privacy and lunacy?

A: -Dear Sir, it is one kind of general courtesy,
Request for kind comments and some mercy,
They need your gracious comments,
It is need of an hour for precious moments,

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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Separation [Despărţire]

Shall I request, my darling, a token of your love?
I wish I could have kept you, but you flew like a dove;
And I don't need the flower that withers in your hair,
I want you to forget me, to leave me sad and bare.

What is the point to foster the bad luck and to strive
Instead of let it dwindle and never to revive?
When even a small river new torrents will receive
Why should we stay for ever in pain and always grieve?
Because it's our lot to float on life's big stream
As if we were a shadow, as if we were a dream.
From now on why to bother to worry about me?
Why should you keep a record of things that ceased to be?
I don't care if I die and leave the world behind
I want to disappear from everybody's mind
And let you live in peace and to forget my face.
But, love, if you remember my soft and warm embrace,
I curse the dark, dense shadow in which I died upset
I wish that you and I had never ever met
To taste the thrill and bliss, to feel each other's touch

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poem by Mihai Eminescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
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Top slot

I wanted to be number one poet
Controlled urge so much but how to remain quiet?
Something more was to be done important thing to write
Ideas continued to emerge and made me to fight

Consulted over friend as how to execute the idea
He laughed it out at my humble plea
He retorted by saying “Have you gone mad or insane”?
What you want to be air borne and fly in plane?

“Why you want to write and to become number one?
You may borrow few lines from here and there from someone
Add some few words more with sugar coating
You will adopt some unusual method and resort to fake voting”

“What are you talking about my dear friend?
This will kill poetry itself and bring it to an end
It is better not to write at all
Why simply to waste time for some body’s call”

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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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