poetry today

Weariness – A Poem by Ananya S. Guha

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Waking morning is tiredness of a day passing shadows of moments what happens in the day is effusiveness of the sun, the catcall of the wind, noisy talk on sidewalk and the half murmur of a child wanting a begging bowl to be replenished by coins people keep in back pockets. The day wakes up to realities of chatter, to discover if anything will be different, or if the closet will be empty. In the evenings when sun’s shadows invert the day draws lines on weary faces.

Multi Verse – A Poem by Ananya S Guha

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A tepid bite of winter
the sun vanishes and mists
take me into an universe rotating between hills, storm and mountains.
Planes swagger. Dust swathes the earth.
No birds flapping
no wings to fly on
only the clouds like needles point a huge finger, at the sky which has lost all hope.
Multi verse.

Dream – A Poem by Ananya S. Guha

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Today the news of another death, of someone so known
is no death, no news simply another gush of blood and the veins
rupture, head spins
heart is matter,the dead speak of abyss, dreams and recondite ghosts.
Spiking dreams is this news, the other day saw
her, laughedbothofuswiththeembattledwind
nowdeathisadream.

The Scimitar – A Poem by Ananya Dhawan

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Am I as potent,
as perfect,
as the knight who holds me
in an ungenerous grip?

Or am I mere speck
worthy of disdain
worthy nonetheless,
of
defeating,
slaying
‘expiring’
lives
in never ending battles?

Or am I slick beauty,
nonchalantly
winning
days and nights,
skies and oceans,
curls and pearls,
for my palace royals?

What if I am,
an entity inanimate –
plain, but playing
slain, yet slaying
hearts
minds
souls?

Evilly shining,
in universal battlefields…

More at https://thewordcouch.wordpress.com/.

All These Lovable Acts – A Poem by Krushna Chandra Mishra

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Do you doubt my memory
And think all your acts of love,
In great charity, that you have
Bestowed on me should be
Forgotten at a brush of a whip
Someone somewhere in whim
Holds like the letters filling a blackboard
In a classroom full of knowledge and meaning,
The students so avidly take down all, vanish,
Leaving the board empty and clean for a
New set of letters, once again from corner
To corner fill, demanding attention of the class,
And displaying the scholarship of the master
Whose hands create the majestic movements of ideas
On the empty board possible and laudable?

Should you not have faith in you
And your forgotten charities
That, I can never forget
Though your acts of sympathy
And love, have made me
What small and inconsequential
Self I have by your contributions
Become by now.

Snake Bite – A Poem by Ananya S. Guha

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Snakes do not bite
water is tight
for man to decipher
the bite which is
ridden
with fallow hope
of escaping blood
and vague articulations
of death as, the hit back
is not poisonous
only somnolent.

Why Are They Jealous of You? (Because You’re Nice and They’ll Never Achieve That) – A Poem by Paul Tristram

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Life gets harder the older we get.
Besides the backstabbing, betrayals, slander,
physical, emotional and mental attacks.
We lose people to death… more and more.
Oftentimes things seem to go wrong
far more than they go right.
There are hard decisions to make,
important crossroads that we cannot understand
the full consequences of until further down the road.
We do wrong sometimes, we make mistakes
by the bucketful and if we’re gracious enough
and wise enough to learn from them
then maybe karma will let us off that grinding
treadmill and into the summer playing fields awhile.
Your dignity matters, keep it held above water
and in the darkest hours don’t lose hope or faith
or give into the negativity collecting around you.
Be a beacon, my friend… not for the world…
but for yourself… and hold that head up high.

More at http://paultristram.blogspot.co.uk/.

Daisies – A Poem by Marie MacSweeney

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They laughed
when your industry
led you to shave
the lavish heads
of daisies,
all down your childhood pathway
until, in a raging giggle,
you decapitated several frogs.
Then they seldom smiled.

When you were thirty
and the spade you handled
was as cunning as clever,
and earth was divided
in all places,
they entered that division
with a knife.

Starch-coated, they are
cheerful in your garden now,
while the stubborn daisies
root and rise again.

Masterpiece – A Poem by Eleena Koep

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Love is a beautiful piece of art
It is abstract yet has purpose and meaning
We all make up different colors
On the smooth surface of this canvas
Many colors will mix and make a magnificent color
Where others will never get a chance to mix
As gentle brush strokes move colors
Across the delicate material
Different colors mix and make an even better combination
Water can disrupt the natural flow
Of colors as changes in life often do
And make colors less vibrant or even break them down
Eventually the water will dissipate
And leave behind a random set of colors
Which hopefully make a breathtaking display
It is often said that beauty is in the eye of the beholder
Which is true when looking at the colors of love
The final display is only beautiful to those
Who can see past the colors
And feel the passion that was behind the masterpiece

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