Love Is | Stan Morrison
love is really an action word
must be felt, not just heard
conspicuous when present
by deed more than intent
to know, to trust and to feel
love is a wrap-around deal
post poems
Spook in the Cellar | Colleen Riehl
An indubitable fact
A voice in my head
clearly said
don’t enter
the Cellar
a spook
awaits you
Oh no!
overwhelmed
with trepidation
dread
soaked in
perspiration
I was home alone
not for one week
but two.
Just me
and
the ghastly spook
What was I to do!
petrified..
couldn’t sleep
I strategized..
Devised an
elaborate plan
to lock
the interconnecting
door
betwixt the spook
and I
Who was I fooling
spooks disregard
boundaries
transcend barriers
time and space
I grew tired
slowly
succumbed to
sleep..
alone..
just my
ficticious
imaginary spook
and I
Balance Syndrome | Kashiana Singh
Balance is a lie
the design of our brain
and designation of our muscles
are about deviation and motion
try drain an incessant abscess
stubborn enough to tread its time
yet pamper it with warmth
and it submits to the cajoling
balance is about the weight
in the elements of your valence
labor into your leisure
worship with persistence each day
sing to your work and your play
let the hustle bring you its pleasure
balance supposes there is an all
but winter always follows fall
wear the badge of work and life on your sleeve
trust that light will reflect the variations in your weave
Let me be
persisting into each day
let me do what I do
going the extra mile
intent being my companion
nurtured adequacy is what I create
playing life so there is no stalemate
Let me do what I do
boot the balance
there is much more at stake
let me do what I do
live my daily grind
let my work and my worship
whisk me through a rhythm
do not beckon me with blue sky wishes
do not teach me balance
and lead me astray
More at https://kashiana.wordpress.com.
Cottage in a Concrete Jungle | Bipul Banerjee
Lurching skyscrapers
Breeding on drying emotions
Bricks and Mortar filled with steel
Air conditioned waves of artificial intelligence
A chaotic urban circus
Of disdainful grace
There stands a cottage of happiness
Blessed with shades of contentment
Thatched roofs and open windows
Where the Sun merrily shines
Bypassing the daemonic man made concrete
Ignoring the jostles of honking jokers
Filtering the polluted vehicle sprouts
A tilted rocking chair
Fluttering pages of biblichor
Aroma of freshly brewed coffee
The nostalgia of memory lanes
A world within a world
Word within verses
Transports me to remote expeditions
Destined to glories of
Ultimate unifications
Of Dust and Pain | Megha Sood
The slow effervescence
the vaporizing effect of the sadness
body losing itself to the thin air
slowly and surely
the mothball slowly giving it to the air
its existence and its frailty
and the deep sense of attachment
the ephemeral bond between the existence and frailty
the curled up pieces of the burning papers
with its bits and pieces
earmarking the days and the nights
with its ashen touch
like the sand in the water
submerged and yet to dissolve
you can still feel
the existence of the silt and the sediment
the gelid hands of the reality
pinches me with its
cold fingers and freezes my warm heart
this sacred ritual of dissatisfaction
and time eating time
when the body completes the sacred circle
and suddenly there comes a realization
an epiphany of the sorts
we were all a ball of illusion
soaked in the murky pulverized dust
of pain and angst
to begin with.
Vintage Swing | Chloe Gilholy
Order champagne showers
also known as liquid courage
besides the typewriter
with more rhythm
than teenage tunes
and Gameboy colours
Dance under a red chair
and twirling umbrellas
chill in the bathtub
put your cocktails down
by the tiger’s hips.
So put on your lampshades
and your Minnie mouse tights
Don’t blend in when you are
born to stand out!
War | Mantri Pragada Markandeyulu
War Scenario Clouds, Gun Fires
Bombing, No Peace, Worried World, Helpless People
Ceasefire, Maintain Peace and Harmony
More at https://markumantri.wordpress.com/.