Your Lips | Mónika Tóth
your soul is lyrical line
your heart is magnanimous
your eyes are fire
your look is great
your lips are wonderful path
your smile is beautiful shining
21st century poetry
Love of a Poetess | Nadia Umber Lodhi
You are love of a poetess, my beloved,
Reflects from my words ever,
Forget you never,
My passion increases ever,
My Love decreases never,
You are love of a poetess, my beloved
You are the Magic of a words magician,
You are the business of a pain earner,
I shall write departure, loneliness and tears,
I shall describe fears,
And earn income.
You are love of a poetess, my beloved
I shall sell dreams, earn profit,
How can I gain loss,
No Never, my dear
I sold my heart, my dear
One and Only wealth I have.
More at https://www.poemhunter.com/nadia-umber-lodhi/biography/.
Angry Father | Craig Warburton
An open palm descends on back
Dealt with force a hefty smack
Then another just as bad
I’m scared, upset, a broken lad
Stinging skin that’s turned bright red
What goes on inside his head?
For him to hit me quite so hard
Then tell me not to be so mard
The anger in his face so clear
But no way will I shed a tear
The gritted teeth and wild eyed stare
I can’t fight back it’s so unfair
When it stops I’m on my feet
Go to my room, a safe retreat
And only when I close the door
My silent tears fall to the floor
But now I know the signs and when
This scene will play out once again
Demolition | Mary Bone
Underneath bark and wooden planks,
termites gnaw and chew
destroying homes,
making burrows.
Tunnels appear
as they make
their own homes.
Beyond the Night | Lynn Long
Deep beneath the dark, vast ocean blue
I grew weary, drowning- in thoughts
of you…
So like the Phoenix, soaring on high
I too shall soar, shall touch the sky
In search of hope
In search of light
I too will rise-
beyond the
night…
Ride On | Oluwasalvage Archibong
I will like to live an afterglow of smiles
when life is done
like an echo whispering softly down
an empty hall.
When it rains, it rains with vengeance
and when the harmattan strikes,
you can’t smile naturally without bleeding.
Upon my head is a freight
heavier than a fermented cassava
that makes me stagger like a blind drunkard.
Can there ever be sweet without sweat?
Will my tears of grief
dry up before the sun tucks into the cloud?
I would fly away with the wings of fortune
to the remotest sea; sit quietly at its bank and
relax with the loud silence of nature.
May the morning mobs the evils that survived the night.
I shall be resolute regardless
and stick my head above like a Nazi’s prisoner.
Just like the River keeps flowing,
i will keep moving on.