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The inner magnet sings like flower to bee, like bee to flower

The inner magnet sings
like flower to bee; like bee to flower -

Some traditions say, that
we all have an inner sound; which
we can train; or can leave it be..
as gold for Midas; Midas, so, for gold;

and this, it's said, calls pupil to their teacher;
teacher to their pupil; it is
that yearning to know more
that draws the two to unity;

anmd so the holy men
show no surprise to see you there
(unsure, nonplussed, and wondering..)
at their holy feet which are not theirs..
holy chicken, holy egg...

so here I sit, pen down, and silent, still,

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poem by Michael Shepherd
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An Ode To My Love Adomaa

Her name, her heart she gives to me
The melodies of her love resound in my heart
Dancing it way into the vault of my head
This challenge I gladly accept without struggle

I.
Her name, her heart she gives to me
Hear me shout oh little birds of the sky
As I summon you to tell her my love
Make haste the messengers of my heart

II.
Her name, her heart she gives to me
Rivers of tears in my life comes to a halt
Though it banks over flow
In an amazing flood of Haiti

III.
Her name her, her heart she gives me
Oh lords I pray and trust her

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poem by Samuel Donkor
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Pretty In Pink

The setting sun spreads a pearly pink glow
Over the headland and the sea down below.
Stood amongst flowers of yellow and mauve,
I look down to where there's a secluded cove.

Rivulets of sea water run away down the beach:
The silvery sea, these streamlets very soon reach.
The sun sits in the sky, like a white ball of fire.
Birds sing out their songs like a heavenly choir.

The cliff top yonder, is a patchwork of green.
The atmosphere here is so peaceful and serene.
Along the soft sands, a few stragglers still roam.
Around the jagged rocks, water jumps and foams.

Like metal to a magnet, I am drawn to this place;
I love seeing the scenery; I love the laid-back pace.
The hues on the horizon are pink, purple, and grey,
Signalling that tomorrow will be another fine day.

poem by Angela Wybrow
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Back Again?

How many times have I died before?
Much too many I'm sure.
The years and centuries are long gone,
yet here I am again.
Am I not content to dwell in peace
where war does not destroy men?

Must I insist and never accept
that this planet seems doomed to its fate?
Or am I an optimistic fool that wanders
towards an opportunistic date?
Surely there will come a time
when the dust and bones will sift
into the hearts of humanity
and allow their bodies to lift
to the level of the soul
that knows and feels its plight.

Another time, another place,
another me with a different face

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poem by Edwina Reizer
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How Shall I Escape

Allergy symptoms, eyes skew, world upside
down everyone I know is gone, only empty
shells of ourselves left, the iron clamp on my
Hail Mary head still tightening-mea culpa-oh
yes I know full well something is wrong with
my vibrational skills I attract problems like a
magnet today, every choice made is wrought
with great danger-although what will happen
next is Heisenbergian uncertainty

I suspect it will continue the pattern of Unheil
und schmerzhafte Leidenschaft* - my early
morning attempt to change life into a lovely
safe place exploded and now I am lost at my
desk, the iron clamp tightening, tightening,
tightening still - and how shall I make my
escape - get a cup of coffee and regard
the world through a caffeine-induced
clearer eye?

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poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Full Circle

I wonder what it takes to go full circle
and find my way back home to You?
Although I might be as slow as a turtle
Your love will guide me when I am true.

I’ll finish up then as I began just a child of Yours
having knocked on so many of life’s secret doors.
But even though I have yet to find all the right answers
at this stage of my life there have been some advances.

My feelings towards You now seem to have changed
but this shouldn’t be a reason for us to feel estranged.
Love’s the universal magnet that draws everything close together
we shouldn’t mind too much if we pass through some stormy weather.

In a world of constant change there are many upheavals
but love often does get stronger when there’s a retrieval.
It’s something of a realization by which we come to know
that as love completes a full circle perfection it will show.

poem by George Krokos
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Possession

That which we had we still possess,
Though leaves may drop and stars may fall;
No circumstance can make it less
Or take it from us, all in all.

That which is lost we did not own;
We only held it for a day--
A leaf by careless breezes blown:
No fate could take our own away.

I hold it as a changeless law
From which no soul can ever sway or swerve,
We have that in us which will draw
Whate'er we need or most deserve.

Even as the magnet to the steel
Our souls are to the best desires;
The Fates have hearts and they can feel--
They know what each true heart requires.

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poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Love Struck

When I walk into your life, I didn't expect all this great things can happen
Baby, I feel like you hit me with lighting or what I like called it
Love struck
When I hear your name, I can't walk away
I can't help it
As long I'm happy and with someone who I can see that I want to be forever and ever
You just like magnet that you pulled me toward you, and
I can't never get out of
I don't care
I want to hold onto you
You hit me with lighting or what I like called it
Love struck
Someone called doctor
I'm feeling lovesick
I make an accuse not to have fun and hang out with my friends
This feelings I'm having is so amazing
When you kiss me on the check, it feels so right
When you ask me to go somewhere with you, I say yes, but at last minute
I made an accuse not to go, because I don't want to rude my chances to be your girlfriend
One day I hope you'll see how I feel

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poem by Christina Phan
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A Hug

Biology invigorated by Chemistry and empowered by Geography
infuses us with a plethora of poignant sensations, embraced by
the velvet of tenderness and clasped in the arms of monogamy.
My heart is made of metal and yours, my virtuous bride, of magnet.
Evocative and provocative energy enmeshes our nostalgia.
Conjugal ripples from the surface of our skin rush through our veins
into our deepest depths until reciprocal osmosis becomes orgasmic.

The wind is tired of its futile attempts to get between us.
You are the gloves on my hands and the paint on my wall.
Squeezing and teasing, huddling and cuddling, unifying and satisfying-
tangled together in the tranquil tapestry of inseparability.
I have captured the warmth of the sun and the romance of the moon,
and gift wrapped them with my own sweat and tears just for you.
Drip drop, drip drop, until you are enveloped in the ocean of my love.

poem by Howard Simon
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Of Course Your Idea Of Happiness Differs From Mine

Of course your idea of happiness
differs to mine,
You and me
we were built with different hands,
designed with different minds.

Of course your idea of happiness
centres around structure,
focuses on stability
Evolves around precise dinner times
daily chats, with the t.v muted
Happiness must be earned
worked for, battled for.

Of course my idea of happiness
spits upon yours,
I am the magnet of your attractions
I am everything you want but despise.
Yes sex is a must, it need not have
to be about trust,

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poem by Not Long Left
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