poetry

Blank – A Poem by Dah

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I am tired of the nonsense
of what does not matter.
This is how I arrived
at not caring:
My heart, a lone rock.

A slate-colored night
is thrown over my body,
the diction of damp leaves,
the convenience of loneliness.

If I could
I would turn the World into mythology
write a final chapter
because I am weary of gods,
of satans,
of those who break the light.

Give me the intelligence
of emptiness:
Let me begin each sentence
with nothing to say.
Let me end each poem
as a blank page.

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

Written after a random act of violence in the cold-blooded killing of 67 year-old Steve Carter while walking his dog on a trail in Fairfax, California. Steve was a light-filled, beloved yoga teacher. Three 20 year-old drifters are in custody after being arrested while driving his car shortly after the killing. They shot his dog too.

Lone Star Reflection – A Poem by Daniel Klawitter

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You know what I miss
About the Lone Star state?
The Tex-Mex food —
The chicken fried steaks.

The white cream gravy
To blanket your biscuits —
And ice cold beer
With Bar-B-Q brisket.

But the weather and religion
Can be so hard to bear.
Still Texans are always saying:
“Ya’ll come back now, you hear?”

And I do not miss the roaches,
The mosquitoes — all those bugs!
Bigger isn’t always better —
In terms of insects, faith or floods.

More at http://about.me/dklawitter.

Floods – A Poem by Ananya S. Guha

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Despoiled leaves,
memory corners lurk;
the past in a wish list, as echoes
of the wind saunter
in cleavages, who knows
what? Who does or does not?
Kills or kills not,
suddenly flood waters
are stained with red.
We write poems while people, flood-driven in a country, lie in
an anonymous heap. Who cares or cares not?

A World Too Dark Too Often – A Poem by Donal Mahoney

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Julie owns a cat that roams.
Recently he’s been stopping at
Jack and Brenda’s house where
Brenda’s mourning her cat’s death.
Brenda cries except when Julie’s cat
comes around. Tuffy is his name

When Tuffy visits Brenda’s house
he never wants to leave.
He thinks he’s gone to heaven.
He gets tuna, milk and a
forever petting that turns his
purring up full throttle.
Brenda loves to hear it.

Jack finally tells Julie her cat’s
bonded with his wife and
he doesn’t know what to do.
He takes Tuffy home and the cat
comes back again the next day.
But Julie isn’t disturbed at all.
She visits Brenda and tells her
Tuffy’s your cat from now on,

a gift from one heart to another.
Brenda weeps with joy and starts
petting Tuffy who drools and purrs
like a train coming out of a tunnel.
Jack’s amazed to see the light
one act of kindness can shine
on a world too dark too often.

More at http://booksonblog12.blogspot.com.

Cursor – A Poem by J.K. Durick

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The cursor signals, winks on and off, uses a code
I have yet to master. Sometimes it seems amused,
Pleased with itself over an inside joke I don’t get.

Other times, it becomes a warning, desperate for
My attention, as if the page were a flooded road
Much too dangerous to wade in or drive through,

Sinkholes waiting, hidden, ready to drown me
In paperwork and complex incomplete thoughts,
And sometimes, every once in a while, it greets,

Like an old friend might, or a fan cheering me on
As I finish a full marathon, barefoot in this rain.
The cursor signals out, like a coast watcher in war,

Like a frantic radioman as his Titanic goes down,
Like a traffic light and a really bad intersection,
The corner of my life and all these blank pages.

It winks off and on as if it were counting down
From some set number, a bit out of rhythm,
Like a poorly tuned heartbeat, a pulse beat

To check on and hope for, like an anxious medic
Triaging on a blank battlefield, a reassuring beat
Playing on, restlessly wanting me to respond.

Poet's Contemplation – A Poem by G. S. Katz

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We feel too damn much
Rather than going too far inside
or drinking to oblivion
We write

The writing saved me
Opened up new worlds
Gave me a voice that lay hidden
Helped me reach across the aisle to touch

Sometimes we write the same thing to death
Other times we nail it spot on
Often we are searching for the perfect verse
It’s a long game, out on the wing, penning…

Corridors of Time – A Poem by Ananya S. Guha

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It is another day, informal
with these rains hounding you
casting shadows across hills
inside the worm creeps, desultory walking
monotones increase
so do drones of heavy vehicles, let’s go a roundabout way, placing myths in corridors of time.

A Phantasma – A Poem by Ananya Dhawan

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I swam across seas
blinded by thrill,
I knew no one.
When the waves rose
to touch the shore
I rose too,
the apprehension within me
solid to the touch.

I flew across skies
Managing to avoid
those voiceless shrieks,
the vivid fears,
the piercing pulls of gravity.

I ran across mountains,
braving the days
braving the nights
and everything in between.

I was shaken from a stupor,
The blindfold removed
I felt the transition
I felt me
The phantasma was real…

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