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A Mother’s Dream | Shawn Aveningo

I remember it like it was yesterday,
bringing my two identical bundles
home from the hospital. It was Spring, in Atlanta.
I remember rocking them each night
into the wee hours of the morning
blanketing them in as much joy,
pride a mother could possibly secrete,
attempting to feed them a lifetime of confidence
so that when the day came for them to fly,
they would soar, knowing they are always loved.

Every time a mother gives birth,
she gives birth to two dreams:
the dream that evolves within the soul of that child,
to be a firefighter, a dancer or a teacher.
And the dream that never changes,
the one that’s formed with the first fetal flutter,
cemented with the sound of her baby’s first cry,
that dream for her child to be healthy,
happy, loved.

So you see, I have a dream.
I have a dream that every child grows up
in a world, in a country, in a state,
secure that she is free to love
whomever she chooses.
I have a dream where “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”
simply becomes, “It Don’t Matter”.
What matters is what’s in your heart,
not what’s written or interpreted
to be true in a book.
What matters is the commitment,
the affection, the devotion,
between two beings,
no matter in what skin color, body shape,
or gender they reside.
What matters is love… period.

You see, it’s time I finally took a stand,
speak up to make you understand
because my daughters deserve
to walk hand in hand
with the one they love
just as my son walks today
in our supposed land
of the free.

You see, he has that privilege without contest or debate,
without the interference of homegrown hate
or those so ignorant they think they can pray the slate
clean of DNA, the very genes that seal our fate,
signal to our hearts who we want to date,
as we meander through this jungle for our one true love.

I mean, isn’t that what we all want in the first place?
Surely, love means more than just the ability to procreate.

I think it’s high time we unite,
we unite in this battle, this fight
the next chapter in pursuit of equal rights,
for all our children.

Because my children
and your children
deserve to live the dream,
to be healthy, to be happy
and above all
loved.

More at http://redshoepoet.com.

My Little Little Nose | Ananya S. Guha

I have begun,
advent into journey
now my life’s tourney,
a game, why blame
people and friends
rascals, fiends
the journey began
precisely at home,
took time off and read tomes, then took to writing
up and down
in my little shanty town
and, as rains kept on pouring I took to life
in its whirlpool of suffering
amidst all the rife.
All the broken bones I saw
while some laughed ha-ha. This is poetry, that is prose, I
exclaimed, under, my little little
nose.

Rage | Langley Shazor

What is this?
This deep, seething, burning
From the darkest pits.
It boils and churns
Trying to escape.
Magma just below the surface
You would never know it’s there.
Unstable hot springs
Seeping gases unrelenting
Do we heed the warning signs?
Or do we steadily trample aimlessly
Crushing and pressing
Creating depressions
Under the weight of our own selfishness?
In a space where the underworld meets the free
Conflict occurs.
Uncontrollable, unabated, unobstructed.
But we saw this eruption coming.
We heard the rumbling
We felt the tremors
Yet we chose to ignore.
And now we race to escape
But to no avail.
Being overtaken,
Our Pompeii lost forever.

Teaching Marquez | Namrata Pathak

you know you are not in love
when the pronouns curl up
in a sun-mowed body
you and he
in crow-stooping shadows
float upstream
as a bunch of storm-buds
between pages
Marquez
that you won’t read otherwise
measures
love in a dark
and dank teaspoon
you can gulp it down
with the yeast-crumbs
old Margarite gave you
love is difficult to digest
birding is easier
you teach about the woman
with a dandelion-laced gown
who
in shreds and skin
becomes one scaly
rough
potato-grower
sometimes roots
are edible light
they smell of sweaty hands
two acres away
glass-ants
circle
the letters
that you pretend
not to read
they are
bitten
into
agile psychopaths
you
only you
want free Wifi at night
to heal love
in medicated quantities
Marquez can wait
for another day
when
the sun is
half an arc
and pines
less shrill
in Chasingre

Within Minutes… | Ananya S. Guha

Within minutes it was gone
the rains
my element of surprise
my dashboard of sorrow
my springs of memories
it came dashing down these
corrugated hills, down their
slopes, hurtling into ravines, deep slopes and gorges
but they were gone, just as one thought the monsoons would lash. In
corridors I remember mackintoshes, and an Alsatian chasing our dreams in school. The rains then were thick skinned as we avoided their merciless rumpus.

Arcane | Ananya S. Guha

I resist the arcane.
I have to come out from hidden springs unscathed. Too many symbols. I have to uncover all those splendid truths.

Beautiful Things | Chris Byrne

A smile so simple will make the world go round
never knowing, for a smile could mean so much,
making someone’s day unknowingly.
Just that simple touch, a kind pat on the back,
making someone’s day or one of those loving
kind embraces that make one feel alive.
To be alive is it to feel, to see never knowing,
or is it to embrace; To have, to hold
with all our souls.
A kiss; so sensual yet so simple, a joining
of kindred spirits lost in a moment,
simply being, just being alive,
A feeling of being alive, an understated
beauty, We all know and feel yet
most of us are afraid.
To see, to feel, to love and to live.
That simple thing that is within
us all.
A hidden beauty we keep
inside from those we
wish could see.
—–
I’m a cabinetmaker from Dublin who likes to write poems that inspire. See my work published at: http://www.amazon.com/dp/1530456762 and https://www.createspace.com/6126977.

A Candle in the Wind | Walid Abdallah

I am a candle in the wind
dancing happily, I pretend

I am always deep under pressure
Suffering from stress with no measure

In silence I always burn
How to survive I should learn

I always live to end others’ night
They think it’s my duty and their right

Nobody cares how I feel
Or cools my wounds that never heal

No dream in my life comes true
Because of winds that always blow

I burn for others’ happiness
I only get their carelessness

I don’t know for how long I should burn
For those who never care or concern

I gradually vanish for their sake
they squeeze my hear and break

I really can’t stand for long
To a place I never belong

I lost the love of my life as a whole
In a world with no substitute at all

She couldn’t stand in the wind with me
Left me in the storm and decided to flee

She took all the sense of life away
And left me in the wind lost and astray

I am half alive and half dead
I can’t bear what she just said

She left and took my heart with her
She never knew how much I care

We become strangers again
As she couldn’t bear the pain

I am a candle in the wind
Only sad sighs I can send

More at https://www.facebook.com/walid.abdallah.562.

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