Gentleness and Broken Glass – A Poem by G. S. Katz
The colors of intimacy
Much to explore.
Gentleness and broken glass
Sweet touch and raw power
We are a color that hasn’t been invented
Never seen by the universe
But we exist
And we shine…
Retaliation – A Poem by P.K. Deb
Amazingly, the ball is flying back to me,
my protruded eyes witness
its dreadful spinning and speed;
and the haughty heart shrinks and realises
a ruinous sequence is to be ensued.
A few moments back…
my high-strung racket stroked
the ball and posted it
to the inaccessible address of the rival.
As over-powered I was
by my pride and contumacy
so was over-confident on my skill
and was over-optimist too to obtain
the last achievement, the game point.
My body, mind and soul were prompt for
the hilarious clapping and warm felicitation
and blissful too in watching
the Samba of day-dream around me.
Suddenly, a pin-drop silence paralyses
the tumultuous environment
and I am landed back from the fantasy to the reality.
My sensation and perception are astonished by
the retaliated ball which is repelled
and addressed to a tough corner of my court.
“Oh God, please save my game,”
a bubble of importunity comes out of my heart–
almost haunted and blocked too,
still tempts me for the last effort.
Tighten my loose grip, raise the racket,
jump over to the ball to reach beneath and blow.
my eyes shut their doors,
maybe, ears also reluctant to hear
the consequence of my last struggle for existence.
Connection – A Poem by G. S. Katz
like gloves that fit perfectly
two eggs sunny side up
finishing your sentences
Connection
bumps in the road
using humor to defuse
knowing it’s temporary
Connection
answers without questions
a sip of your coffee
the road is long
Connection
karma
skin
imperfection
Connection…
Bitter Sweet – A Poem by Anthony Cannon
Can you taste this?
They wanna know how I feel about it.
How I feel about holding back my pain and thankfulness for so many
remorseful years.
I account for the misery and woe in my bed sheets,
All of the nights of losing sleep and waking up feeling so
incomplete.
But then again…
The times I’m glad I’m still in God’s favor,
Still sitting on my throne over a pristine spotless temple.
Not ashamed of the tread of my feet I trod.
This potent wine I spill from my abode freezes solid-
Hard as rocks as they drop to deliver panic and unnecessary
persecution!
This is bitter sweet.
I’ve been picked over, left for dead, dissed at and forgotten,
They say my time has ran out,
But how could I believe this nonsense I’m reciting to you?
Can you believe this?
I rise up and stay above it,
Thinking to myself I’m on my own island of continuation…
That this lonesome, dark, pitch black nightmare will never end.
Go all the way to gehenna and back and still ceases to not exist.
This is bitter sweet.
Like how I’m ecstatic but it breaks my bones and crushes the marrow.
As I put my heart in this,
I love the sweet,
But I despise the bitter.
Thank you for tasting my bitter sweet.
Sports Day and Exploitation – A Poem by P.K. Deb
Hip- hip- hurray–
The suppressed hearts must bloom today
as the bloodless lips get back their lost smiles,
Let’s play, the annual village sports day is on today.
Hip- hip- hurray–
The exploitation is on leave and departed
with its ugly blood sucking oppression
and grants a relief to the exploited today.
Hip- hip- hurray–
The blissful minds are absolutely unmindful
to their plough, cattle, sweating, low-wage,
poverty, indebtedness and illness today.
Hip- hip- hurray–
The indigents witness the annual smile
on the face of the landlord fortunately
instead of regular reproof and frowning today.
Hip- hip- hurray–
A rare competition is to be contested
among the feeble who are already
defeated and receded under compulsion today.
Hip- hip- hurray–
an amazement is to be ensued definitely
as the heartless hands are preceded
for the poor’s heartfelt enjoyment today.
No more hurray, that’s all for today
as the village sports day is almost over
and the poor’s are to be refaced the demon-
the exploitation with its oppression from tomorrow.
In the Dark Night – A Poem by G. S. Katz
Watching
Waiting
Patiently
For your look
Your gaze
Around the corner
On the avenue
Behind the alley
In the dark night…
You're My Reason for Living – A Poem by Joseph Romano
Every placed I go your fair face beams.
You are a beautiful woman, you’re the woman of my dreams.
Your heart is loving and tender and forever forgiving.
You’re the reason I’m here, you’re my reason for living.
You opened your heat and gave me a new life.
Then you made me the happiest the day you became my wife.
And just when I thought you made me the happiest man in the world.
You presented us both with a new baby girl.
And just when I thought we had all the happiness and joy.
You presented us both with a new baby boy.
No Apologies – A Poem by G. S. Katz
I make no apologies
for needing you like I do
we trade secrets
stolen kisses
make each feel good
romance, raw, righteous
the mantra of each day
Passion Collision – A Poem by G. S. Katz
would have kissed you harder
deeper
you kept me slightly at bay
next time will be different
passion collision
no fault
mouth on mouth
only coming up for air
no deposit, no return
Mr. Manhattan
lurking in your tangled hair
in your rear view mirror
on line at the bank
while cooking eggs
My Beautiful Mary – A Poem by Joseph Romano
When I look into the heavens, yours is the only face I see.
You are not only my lover and wife, you are my future fantasy.
Of all the woman I’ve ever known.
You my darling Mary are the one I chose to be my very own.
No other woman has done so many beautiful things to me
As wonderful as the things you’ve done to my fantasy.
I can live my life for a hundred or more years.
There is no other woman that can bring to me so many happy and joyful tears.
Mary my darling I love the way you took and molded me.
You took and made me into the man I thought I could never be.
We’ve been married now for sixty five years or more
And to this day you are the only one I love and adore.