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Something Unrevealed

If there was an interest,
You would express fresh questions.
You'd wish to know something new.
Something unrevealed between me and you.

If there was an interest,
We'd both be on our best behavior.
Trying to impress.
And displaying a happiness.

But what we have here is a competition.
A game of some kind...
To seek ways to undermine.

And my sole purpose with you,
Is to establish a meaningful relationship!
One for the long haul.
And not one pursued to unhitch and undo.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ch 04 On The Advantages Of Silence Story 02

A merchant, having suffered loss of a thousand dinars, enjoined his son not to reveal it to anyone. The boy said: ‘It is thy order and I shall not tell it but thou must inform me of the utility of this proceeding and of the propriety of concealment.’ He replied: ‘For fear the misfortune would be double; namely, the loss of the money and, secondly, the joy of neighbours at our loss.’

Reveal not thy grief to enemies
Because they will say ‘La haul’ but rejoice.

poem by Sa di
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Encounter drop

mixed feeling
crush the emotional
distressed
with a resting
pebble of diamond jewels
of style hoping
that every inch
of failure the day
is over

Dear like
a lasting rainbow
of the clouds, where
nothing left
but a hope that beautiful
dream will
render echo of
loving perfume smell
of happiness

[...] Read more

poem by Antonio Liao
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Find me a Milk...

oh! lips that wait the taste of every growth
haul the strength that close to weak, await
until the fierce of death shadow the palm that
close, for dine is the end that witness to lose

footprints always mark the navel path, like
chariot that run ready to fight; thou bladed
spears hunted the warrior arms while the wheel
hold the sworn that cut, hail on capture blood,
clashes that never win and tossed the flame of
death return

oh! precious soul reborn, blade me to be born...

poem by Antonio Liao
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Your Company

The iron in the flush burning fire,
A gleam and glow does acquire;
Fully transforms and is afire,
Losing its dense solid attire.

If you ‘re caught in the nasty mire,
Of the low and mean whom none can admire;
In life, to step higher you cannot desire,
And to ascend to lofty echelons you can't aspire.

Let us ever be in the company of gentle nobility,
Who will haul us with them to high dignity;
Raising us to tall standards of versatility,
And to higher echelons of respectability.

poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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At The Gill-Nets

Tug at the net,
Haul at the net,
Strip off the quivering fish;
Hid in the mist
The winds whist,
Is like my heart's wish.

What is your wish,
Your heart's wish?
Is it for home on the hills?
Strip off the fish,
The silver fish,
Caught by their rosy gills.

How can I know,
I love you so,
Each little thought I get
Is held so,
It dies you know,
Caught in your heart's net.

[...] Read more

poem by Duncan Campbell Scott
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Safe Agency

Agents are lying, governments are disposing,
You’ll need your ID, and then be arrested;
Far away is the prison, an implant is your partner,
Slavery disembowels you, vomiting you,
Your lying is apparent, the agents are again,
Where is the information?
My liar is near, his informing air is there,
When he questions me he lies.
I have to lie, my conscience does not lie,
And may I die, into a thousand pieces
Just when a government resides in its chair
To haul me to safety,
And it did!

poem by Naveed Akram
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Sometimes we fly together beyond the milky way

Sometimes
when you are the kite
I toss you over the clouds

And sometimes
when you don’t come down
you hold my breath for hours

Sometimes
when you are the wind
and I'm flung to a far frontier

you haul me home
in the nick of time
and I’m back in your atmosphere

Sometimes
when I reel you in
and I get to the end of the string

[...] Read more

poem by Sean Joyce
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When You Don’t Come down You Hold My Breath for Hours

Sometimes
when you are the kite
and I toss you over the clouds
And sometimes
when you don’t come down
you hold my breath for hours

Sometimes
when you are the wind
and I'm flung to a far frontier
you haul me home
in the nick of time
and I’m back in your atmosphere

Sometimes
when I reel you in
and I get to the end of the string
you look so strange
with stars in your eyes
and gems where your mouth should be

[...] Read more

poem by Sean Joyce
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Peleg Poague

Horses and men are just alike.
There was my stallion, Billy Lee,
Black as a cat and trim as a deer,
With an eye of fire, keen to start,
And he could hit the fastest speed
Of any racer around Spoon River.
But just as you'd think he couldn't lose,
With his lead of fifty yards or more,
He'd rear himself and throw the rider,
And fall back over, tangled up,
Completely gone to pieces.
You see he was a perfect fraud:
He couldn't win, he couldn't work,
He was too light to haul or plow with,
And no one wanted colts from him.
And when I tried to drive him -- well,
He ran away and killed me.

poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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