poem

Collision | Justateddyberry

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Perhaps I collide too much with this world
I go against the flow
And it seems like I don’t belong
But I’m not courageous enough
To say I can make a change
For the better
Everyone’s word
Carries a different meaning along with it
And I thought I’d learnt
But then I realize again and again
Even after understanding all that I know
It’s almost like
I still don’t know anything
About this world
It’s just so confusing
And the levels keeps getting higher
The layers of masks
Piling and piling
Till I don’t know what I’m supposed to see
Or if what I know
Is still true
Or perhaps
Everything has already changed
It’s as if
My version is outdated
And I’ve returned to a level of a kid
Where doors are shut
And sounds are muted
Where I have to fight
All the levels again

More at https://sfondato.blogspot.com.

Ontology | Cattail Jester

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Same beneath the skin
Above it

Same thoughts, emotions
Shared fears

Spoken in different languages
Expressed in unfamiliar terms

Eyes the same
Heart the same

Same being.

My Mother's Poem | Mike Ess

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My mother is dying and I am crying,
well on the inside anyway.
She’s nearing seventy and I’m nearing fifty,
and I have no idea what to say.
I have not seen nor spoken with her in many years,
long ago I thought there could be no more tears,
But now she is dying and I think I am crying,
well on the inside anyway.
Before she died I flew up to say hi,
before she died I flew up to say bye.
But she never saw me, she wouldn’t see me.
She died with her husband, my father by her side,
she died with her daughters, my sisters by her side,
but she wouldn’t see me, she wouldn’t let me be near.
So she died and I never ever cried, well not on the outside anyway.

ShoeHorn – A Poem by Richard William Kirkpatrick-Thorne

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It Was A Trick Of The Light,
To The Wounded Winding Of Springs,
So She Could Lift Her Eyes To The Rift,
Where Mortality Could Be Feasted UpOn,
And With The Rotateing Of Erasure,
Mouths Could Construct Epitaphs In The Corner…
…
Of That Room… A ChamberLess Embryo For A SexLess Sliver,
A ReVerseing Labyrinth Singing To ItSelf For A Body Politic,
Rolling InTo ItSelf To UnCorner And Be Juggled InTo Orbit With Plaster
Cherubs,
As Fertility Dug Deep To Bury The Clock’s Incessant Throne,
Ruleing InTo HerSelf To UnCover Another Jungle…
…
Ignorance Biteing Worth… Pleaseing Richer Ballistics,
A Stoned ForEver Swept Under The Rug To Keep Her Hands Flushed,
Insectile But Not ALone,
Cruelty Granting OnTo Its Union… A Yesterday’s Cutting Through…
…
For Stained Glass…
…
…
Coloring The Faces Of All Those Who Sit BeSide Her,
UpOn Arbor And Brow…
…
…
…
If It Is Good For The Noose,
Then It Be As Good For The Sander.

More at http://rwkt.blogspot.ca.

Thirst for Love | Pushmaotee Subrun

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The full moon shone brilliantly
Over the serene majestic mountains,
The gentle air caressed us soothingly.
In this blessed tranquil atmosphere
I melted in your first embrace,
And oh! The gush of love enraptured my being
Heart and soul, transporting me
To the fields of Elysium.
Your warm, passionate smooches,
Brought utter bliss,
Cast an eternal spell,
My body and soul surrendered.
To quench my thirst for love.

Wild! | Daniel Klawitter

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I like to feel the sunshine
And the grass beneath my feet.
I like to see the wily weeds
Peeking up through the concrete.
Some things we just cannot contain:
The wind, the truth, the sky—
Animals we can never tame
No matter how we try.
The world is such a mystery
By which I am beguiled.
So I sing of liberation—
I sing of all things wild!
More at https://about.me/dklawitter.

Four, Three-Line Poems by P.K. Deb

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Love- a thorny fish
Neither to swallow it up
Nor to eject it.

~~~~~

phobia of love–
compartmentalisation
Makes lovers gummy.

~~~~~

A shield is enough
Even in the war-field
For a peace lover.

~~~~~

Winnowing is a must
But be- careful always–
May make us bankrupt

A Quiet Insurrection – A Poem by Daniel Klawitter

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Friend of my youth,
red-haired hilarious
satyr of the senses!
Kicking your heels
and burning down the fences
of our small pastures.

A first priest of poetry
scribbling incantations
into books–
plotting rebellion
in the nooks and crannies
of the town that we
abandoned.

You have drunk deeply
of the forbidden brook,
tasted the defiant fruit
of knowledge,
while cat lies lazy
in the window
with a broken tooth.

Your Byzantine rituals
of serpentine silk–
leading you to gossamer oceans
of milky oblivion.

You and I so serious
in our quest
for a quiet insurrection.

More at http://about.me/dklawitter.

Closure | Judy Moskowitz

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Reality can leave you naked and alone
a painful ingrown toe nail
you try cutting it out
with a quart of delusion
swallowing grief
choking on anger
someone throws you a life raft
you grab it
a virtual reality of blurred memories
numbing the senses
you need to believe in something

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