My Past | Daniel Bogogolela
I constantly look at the mirror,
To find out how much I have aged,
Sometimes my reflection is just pain,
I hope to forget my past but,
It isn’t as simple as critics think.
original poem
The Sensual Life | G. S. Katz
living and breathing
the sensual life
eloquent desire
rhythmic flow
sweetest of romance
most powerful urges
balancing power and softness
captured by beauty
honored by love
Impossibility | Ndifreke George
The truth be told
You do not exist
You are just an imagination
And creation of my mind
Decked with the Pacific’s breadth
And Everest’s height
A supposed thought
Now holding me captive
And challenging my prowess
Now, I stare into your eyes
As I tell you this bitter truth
That I am above you
Romanticism | Ananya S. Guha
All goes between your walking ways
a sniffing dog
a waylaid hog,
I am in time’s metre
better get the heater
in this wintry clime
where mattering most is time
looking through eyes
which look outward,
dying a natural death
on a nineteenth century
heath.
My Night | Anuradha Fonseka
You are my night
Who belongs to me when midnight falls
You are around me with
Greatest love and greatest care
You embrace me like the night does
Keeping a comfy space between us though
You feel like the night
Dark, deep and never ending pitch
Into which I keep falling every night
When the world dreams we dream together
With endless “what if…anyways”
You are the night I sleep in
You are the night I dream in
With you I walk under the moon
With you I learn the stories of stars
With you I smell the flowers of night
With you I dance in the rain
With you my night
Endless adventure.
Like the flames of a barking hearth
Does my heart sigh
You are the night that dissolves with the sun
Yours is the love I have no right to claim.
Disaster Area | Cattail Jester
The old couple talked
About the news with snorts
Over a mealy bowl
Of Fruit Loops
They talked of their last
Dinner out
A disaster area, she says
He agrees
Good that the only disaster
They know is
A spilled bowl.
My Guests | P.K. Deb
My guests are ever-solicited
yet they cross me flying over raising hands
or running by me,
so selective they are, it seems,
Nevertheless, my thirsty eyes get quenched up,
as my guests are witnessed
entering my poor parlor
walking on the way of my blood and sweat.
They steer the magical rods,
make my dry lips fertile,
my heart brimful in luxurious emotion
to blast a musical laughter
and my feet hilarious in joy
to show their spontaneous dancing steps
for a blissful while- consisting of
a few tumultuous moments of amusement.
Alas! As time passes, moment by moment
so the guests start disappearing one by one
in the bottomless holes of my booster-
boosting my unaccounted
smile, laughter and dancing up.
The wheel of life moves another round,
makes my eyes thirsty and watchful
for gaining the presence of the guests again
and hopeful too plan wise to sustain
their existence for a long time and term.
Experienced heart admits the importance of
a rationing system of amusement-
well featured by a new booster with a regulator.