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Liberty From Morning

I spent the morning loving freedom,
Rock and cave seemed mightier than school;
I sat here on open rock: a lone day,
Like the lone nights awake,
They don’t reach those human realms.
Yet I was boundlessly free
From the hours of study and guests
Like professors and lecturers so grand.
I spent this morning in work of breathing,
I was in no-mind to declare fit health
But the sun shined on a day of liberty and justice.

poem by Naveed Akram
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Charming Cat Show

All colors and fluffiness
Were the cats on display
Serious now
Not time for cat play

Not time to hunt
No time to prowl
Barely the time
For a faint cat’s meow

Pampered and petted
And powdered as well
Brushed till their hair
Shined and perfectly fell

They all were winners
Ask them and they’d say,
“I should be first
Without further delay”

[...] Read more

poem by Marilyn Lott
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Sky Skimmer

I made a wish,
Upon a fish,
Who swam through the sky.
It twinkled bright,
What a wonderful sight!
As the fish bathed up high.

It circled the moon,
Made the stars swoon,
And the fish lit up the night.
It’s tail was adorn,
With the colors of morn,
And it’s body shined like moonlight.

What was my wish,
Towards the fish?
It’s something I won’t deny.
All I wanted to see,
That would interest me,
Would be a fish swimming in sky.

poem by Micah Yates
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His Kiss For Her

HIS KISS
WHERE HER HEAD SPINS AROUND
AND THE EARTH DIDN'T MOVE
FINDING HER SELF ON CLOUD NINE
NOT WANTING THE MOMENT TO END
TO LAST TIME AFTER TIME,
HIS KISS
A STAND STILL MOMENT
WHERE FLOWERS BLEW
THE SUNSHINE SHINED
NOT A CLOUD IN THE SKY
A FOREVER SMILE IN HER EYE,
HIS KISS
HER DREAM COMING TRUE
EVERYTHING SHE NEEDED TO KNOW
WAS IN HIS KISS
THAT SHE'D HOLD DEEPLY INSIDE
AS HE BEGINS TO GO
BUT STILL SHE WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER
HIS KISS,

poem by Bruce Martone
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Other side of dream

all precious bonds
so precious till become
my memories, my life, my love
that's part of me
I have a name and you call my name
and my name return to me and become me
all that precious bonds
so when one by one
shining pearls falling
I'm too shock to hold it
I think you smiled clumsy
no, maybe you didn't give any expression
ah, actually I'm not sure
memory can be deviated
and the past always bright and beautiful
I can't imagine your tears
because you always laughed and shined

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Her Name

He called her name from aching mouth,
Calling her dreams as if they slept from the spine.
His moment of motion began from the bed
Towards the innocent tower of strength.
Lifting the body had never been attempted
For the human body required a sense of loss.
She was dead for generations, alive for the time,
The crystal cover of her diary shined with disbelief.
Wondered over, captained and bought,
The books of life are the whole meaning of time and dreams.
It was her emptiness and his emptiness
This time.

poem by Naveed Akram
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New love journey! !

New love journey
Where it will l@st
In ur årms or in ur l@p
Fresh by ur breAthing
Mist of ur perfume
Longing in my nostrils
Going for some ch@nge
Longing rythms
U coming honey
Pl@ying with retro old songs
How be@utiful they r
Never seen before
Residing in me
Like soulm@te
U r sweeter th@n honey
W@n@ lick e@ch drop
Silence kills me
Love spe@ks its own wAy
B@by just ur love
M@kes me boom boom

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poem by Somia Race
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The Tear

IT WAS a tale of passion that we read—
Of two who loved, not happily, but well!
And evermore her gentle breast did swell
Like a twin-billow,—for her feelings fed
Upon its rhythmic grief—and brimming shed
Such dews of pity as can only fall
From natures full of sweetness, when the pall
Of tragedy o’ershadows them with dread.
Then, as I looked, in her raised eye there stood
A gem more excellent that ever shined
Within my spirit’s transcendental sphere,
And so embalmed its love with an immortal tear.

poem by Charles Harpur
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Tuba

I was once in a band
in school long ago
when the Poison was big
as their hair
When I was a lad
I played a Golden Tuba
and marched all
over the land

We played in parks
for elderly folks
we played in the gym
for our parents
but mine weren't there

We marched in parades
and my Tuba shined
because I polished it
every day and night

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poem by John W. McEwers
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Ten Days

Each day that passes by, I know
I can't have back again.
So I must comfort myself it seems
as if each day were ten.

I'd repeat the ones that meant so much
over and over and then
discard the ones that brought me tears,
scratch them out with my pen.

Now which are the days that I'd have become ten?
The one where I first met you.
The ones when I held my brand new sons,
The ones when the sun shined through,
The ones when I felt God's presence
in all that I would do.
And the one that will come someday for me,
the one where I'll say adieu.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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