Beautiful Minds Poets: June 2019

Friday, June 28, 2019

Maria Elvira Fernandes Correia, Brazil

Yes, No

Happy
I Will not be
with HIM

without
I cry ocean
Sorrow

tears dry
to Call HIM back
I strive

Copyright © 2019 MEFC
words and video

Here is the link to the video Maria submitted with this poem

https://www.facebook.com/mariaelvira.fernandescorreia/videos/2339459446273261/

McKolombo Dircogmania (Gemini Carlos), Dar es Salaam, Tanzania

I Live A Lie

The quest of this epic is magnificent
Drawn in the cloud of a white umbrella
Stretched in this earth of precious lives
Fastened through the helmet of a good song
Of when the moon danced a little bit
Of when the sun smiled one more time
Lie, but lie not to the truth
Lie to the lie or maybe to another false
All through keep smiling, keep living, and you will live
Liar live, live a lie
I was born to live and not to die

More poems available at his blog:

https://mckolombolombo.blogspot.com/

Also, check out his music on YouTube. This is a single off his soon to be released album. Sorry, you will have to copy the address and paste it into YouTube. But trust me, it is worth the effort.

https://youtu.be/x_y0bTBjHMA

Mihaela Ienutas, Baia Mare, Romania

Mai lasă puțin,
În rouă, să se scalde vise,
Mai lasă puțin ,
Catifelat, obrazul florii!
Pe-o pânză fină de păianjen,
În somn,
Un zâmbet,
Să nu știe,
Că,
Va sfârși într-o tăcere,
Pe buze arse,
Însetate apoi,
De-a pururi,
Sub un soare,
Nepăsător,
Pe drumul său.
Prea mare
Să se oglindească
În mica lacrimă de rouă
Și-n mersul lui,
Topind ,
Nisipul viselor clădite,
În efemerele castele,
Părând,
O clipă,
De cleștar,
Apoi,
Morman de cioburi,
Rănind.

Leave a little,

In dew, let the dreams shine,

Leave a little,

Velvety, the cheek of the flower!

On a fine cloth of spider,

In sleep,

A smile,

Do not know,

That,

It will end in silence,

On burned lips,

Thirsty then,

For ever,

Under a sun,

Impassive,

On his way.

Too big

To mirror

In the little dew tear

And while walking,

Topind,

The sand of dreams built,

In the ephemeral castles,

seeming,

A moment,

By the cricket,

Then,

Pile of shavings,

Hurting.

Jenn Long, Norman, Oklahoma, USA

When the eagle flies over,
The Blue jays screech.
They try to warn brother crow,
"Don't fly too slow.
Don't fly too high either."

But the eagle eye is neither here nor there today.
The eagle soars above competition,
But when he gets hungry, he will eat.
And when he tires,
He will rise on the wings of the wind,
And go high to the place where he can rest again,
Then take another solo flight
At great heights,
Above and beyond the screeching throng,
But will the Eagle smile
To know it's all going on
Just because of him?

Sean Thomas Runyon, Paso Robles, California, USA

It seems that Throughout my life I’ve wondered between these Deities between the perdition that eternal state of punishment and that never-ending Search for the utopian Life of Nirvana between those thin line I find myself wondering

I’ve sat upon the throne of Ahriman kingdom just to taste his succulents upon my tongue that sweet taste of his deviancy became my adoration, It became my sweet obsession.

I’ve allowed myself to be coddled within our heavenly father's palms of mercy just to feel the glorious splendor of his love heal the indelible marks of my self made calamity I often feel those deities pleading for the splendorous heart of my soul

Like a Deer that pants for a stream of water or a man begging For his last breath of life I have found myself wondering upon those thin lines Between heaven and hell.

Memoirs from mad mind poetry
art photography were done by
Sean Thomas Runyon © 2019

Pramod Gangadharan (Sagarikapramod), Kozhikode (Calicut), Kerala, India

Sneaking into Childhood

Growing old I learned
Playing safe and asking less
And to search happiness
In material inanimate things
And I only have regrets

The old childhood days
No doubt I was happy then
The rains I had enjoyed
Today also knocks on my window
But I am hesitant

I need to be careless
Dance and shout to hilt of my voice
And enjoy success of my friends
But what is that holds me know
I fail to accumulate

The taste of neighbours mango
Is still there on my tips
Sneaking into and running out to escape
Was filled with so much fun
Stealing coins to buy imli mitai wow!

Growing old what perspective of happiness
Are we searching in all these
Inanimate material entity
Hesitant to talk with own brother
Who had once been the reason of all happiness

Berna Dette (Angela's Poetry)

Far Away Sway

Here’s the thing with people and trees...
We’ve much to learn from our friends with leaves...
So much wonder found in a gaze...
Instant peace on a hectic day.
Makes one ponder the human connection...
With Mother Earth and her gentle affection.
When you need a distraction, need to be freed...
Here’s a suggestion: Just sit with the tree 🌳✌️❤️

Mirella Ester Pennone Masi, Pavia, Italy

FRAMMENTI

(Sonetto)

Quell’aria declinante d'un notturno

ancora si rivela al cuore mio,

oltre la siepe si smorza un brusio,

verde è l’edera, già odora il viburno.

Oh, tu mia amata notte sei il tormento

non senti come pulsa questo cuore?

Le mie risposte parlano d’amore

sul mio dolore, tu, metti l’accento.

Il vento sussurra un mito solare,

irrequieto s'accende il mio pensiero

come un gabbiano vola là sul mare.

Cerco le scie doriche d'un veliero,

delle stagioni d'oro il dardeggiare

nel grecale che geme ancor sincero.

FRAGMENTS

(Sonnet)

That declining air of a nocturnal

still reveals itself to my heart,

beyond the hedge a buzz fades,

green is ivy, already viburnum smells.

Oh, you my beloved night are torment

don't you feel how this heart beats?

My answers speak of love

on my pain, you, put the accent.

The wind whispers a solar myth,

my thoughts are restless

like a seagull flies over the sea.

I look for the Doric trails of a ship,

the darting of the golden seasons

in the grecale that groans still sincere.

Rajashree Mohapatra, Bubaneswar, Odisha, India

MERMAID AND THE SEA

Picture of a voyage
A pendant in her cleavage
Endless dreams of her prince
She hides treasure in her eyes .

In deep ocean bed a mermaid dwells
Desperate passions surface well
With emeralds of desires
She has drawn to the water’s edge .

Singing joyous on the shore
With waves her voice melodious
When water swilling around
Her joys knew no bounds .

Ocean fills with wave millions
Heart swells with love impressions
Oh Prince . . . She waits to adore
Before storm sweeps forevermore.

Her eager arms and longing eyes
Desires to mix blood in wine
Twisted boughs in passionate hugs
Union of souls, a glory perfected
By the song of the sea.

Matilde Cherchi, Sassari, Sardinia, Italy

haiku

Aria stagnante

Il volo di un passero

scuote il ramo

haiku

Stagnant air

The flight of a sparrow

shakes the branch

Bijoy Bhakat, Kolkata, West Bengal, India

How can I forget -
That bright dawn
That warm noon..
That golden dusk
That beautiful afternoon ..

When -
You were there with me
Sitting face to face
Holding hand in hand..
On the sea shore
On the shining sand..
Under the sky
Under the moon..

Oh dear -
I can't forget that dusk
I can’t forget that afternoon..

When -

The hope was there in the mind
The love was there in the air..
The desire was there in the soul
The dream was there in the tear..
The warmth was there in the heart
The pain was there in the croon..

Oh dear-
I can't forget that dusk
I can’t forget that afternoon.

.

© 2019 Bijoy Bhakat

Rasma Raisters, Daytona Beach, Florida, USA

Summer Memories

Summer on my mind,
when the weather is so kind.
The sun is warm
and the breezes caress.
When life is slow
and days laze by -
like honey bees on flowers fly
Shimmering seas
and hot sandy beaches,
sweet strawberries -
stay in my memory.
Summer on my mind,
when days are long
and moonlit nights shimmer like silver,
with glittering stars -
gazing from afar.
Fruity wines
and ice-cream cones,
fluffy clouds
and children laughing aloud -
stay in my memory.

David Mac Eachern, Dartmouth (near Halifax), Nova Scotia, Canada

Stardom

Going on past any phase
The grip of life's fest
Long turns toward fresh days
Road into a garden nest

Taking nature by the hand
Extra touch of real love
Steps of desire, passionate stand
Reaching out to venture above

Through the forest, into field
For destiny and pleasure sake
Higher range of attraction yield
Living a motion picture take

Saroja Krishnamurthy (Community Administrator), Bangalore, Karnataka, India

#tanagapoeticform

(indigenous type of Filipino poem)
#ತನಗ

ನಿಗೂಢವದು ಸೃಷ್ಟಿ
ಸಮುಚ್ಚಯದ ದನಿ
ಸೂಚ್ಯಾತ್ಮಕ ಬರಹ
ಸಮ್ಮೋಹಕ ಚೇತನ

ಪ್ರೇಮ ಬಾಳಿನ ಸತ್ವ
ಸುಗಂಧವದು ದಯೆ
ಆತ್ಮಸಾಕ್ಷಿಯೇ ಸತ್ಯ
ಸೌಂದರ್ಯವೇ ಪ್ರಭೆ

ಇಂಗ್ಲಿಷ್ ರೂಪಾಂತರ

Mystery of creation
Alluring animations
Nature's scriptic allusions
Say all about conjunctions

Love is life's very essence
Compassion is its fragrance
Real wisdom is conscience
Beauty is the radiance

Thursday, June 27, 2019

Gelda Castro (Gel Poetry Carden), Rio de Janiero, Brazil

Intriguing,
life unravels its webs
and binds us to it,
sometimes lovingly sweet,
sometimes too bitter,
in other times, passionately beautiful ...
And we surrender to its charm
Just as we surrender to the fascination of being loved
And we run the risk of crying, of suffering, of being unhappy.
Or, if we have a brilliant lucky star, we can shine along with it!

(C)Gel Poetry Garden-2019

Clive Norman, Hailsham, East Sussex, England, United Kingdom

Zenaida Laragon Talozo, Piano di Sorrento, Italy

If You Love Me

If you love me
Come and get me..
I'll give you the love..
That you deserve to be..

Once you're here with me..
You will never regret..
As my love is all I have..
That I offer with full sincerity..

Give me the opportunity.
To show how i care intensely.
Our world be the happiest..
There's no regret nor gloomy..

Our world be so vast..
Like the vastness of the ocean sea.
Where all happiness and joy..
Is extant against any defying tides..

The soft pillows of our love..
Be a blissful blows of passion.
Like unfathomable ocean deep..
Or the howling sound of the windmills..

It's hidden at the core of my heart..
Zealousness, serenity and enchantment.
No swooning of heart shall come.
But paramount of love captivating enthralled.

© 2019 Zenaida Laragan Taloza

James Dean Chase, Odessa, Texas, USA

Lost

Lost within a dark halo,
his life's blue flame still flickers
refusing to be snuffed out;
as violet shadows dance
to his heartbeat's echoing
his return to animate
his body from it's long sleep;
to, again, swim in the stream
of a bubbling new spring
into a world of wonder
where he will never be lost...!

Stone Wood-tray Wang (Poet has not shared his location)

Exploring the Meisan,
Chinese pedigree poetry

Explore the poems of a hedgehog in the fog,
such a medieval European nursery rhetoric writer
The sound is great.
After the spring of the depression,
the snow was not in the spring,
and the bulls were not arrogant.
In the New Year, the calming of the cold forest
is not the desire of everyone,
watching the hippo seems to be long-lived
without strengthening the sun like the sun
Like the white horse, the little white bear
is like Liu Tingyu’s must be in the evening,
and the spring is like the snow and the frost.
Flowers are not flowers, fog is not fog.
A hedgehog's Hugo sighs at the end of the sea.
In the river, let the grass on the Qingqing River, think far.
Crossing the river and fishing for the moon
is the imagination of the butterfly dream and Xiaoyan.
The strange fish in the water
uses a leaf as a parachute snail.
But the beautiful white horse, or the little white bear,
caused the flowers to be non-flowered.
Fog is not fog, how long is it like a spring dream?
Going like a butterfly, innocent place?
Back to the shore, the fantasy drifting came to an end,
The Hugo poets and the white bear
fighting people of the Stone Age tribes can meet again.
It’s great!
I hope that their descendants will regain
the traditional culture of the swan
with imagination and fantasy wonderland.
Nursery rhymes.

Nigel Da Poet Paul, San Fernando, Trinidad & Tobago

That line

It starts with one line
Paused a moment of time
Listen to the guitar chimes
No reason no rhyme
Vocals gone blind
Thoughts don't reminisce
Memories vacant bliss
Blind to the path
Deaf to the journey
For sorrow is the scenery
Yet knees seem weary
Eyes to the sky
Dreams of unanswered wishes
Are but the broken heart dishes
It simply start with a line
Emotions become mimes
Locked in an fictional box
Tears are but waves
Crashing upon metaphysical rocks
Wasted be the energy
Torment consoling reality
It starts with one line
Everything is fine.....

Wednesday, June 26, 2019

Robert Gillette, Marion, South Carolina, USA

Told my way of observation

This is the story of the eagle

The eagle can live up to 70 years, but to reach that age, it must make a hard decision in its life. Over its 40 years, his long and flexible Talon's can no longer grab pray which serves as food, his long and sharp beak becomes bent, aged feathers become thick and heavy and stick to his chest, making it difficult to fly.

The eagle is left with only two options: Die, or go through a painful process of change which requires that the eagle to fly to a mountain top and sit in its nest, where he knocks his beak against a rock until he breaks it off. Then he waits for a new beák, claws and feathers to grow. Finally, he will pluck out his old talon's and with new Talon's, starts plucking out his old feathers. This change is worth sustaining pain, and this eagle takes its famous flight of rebirth and lives another 30 years.

Why is change needed? To survive.

Where we have to start the change process, we have to pluck out unpleasant memories, negative habits and fixed mind sets. Only free from past burdens , can we take advantage of the present, in order to take a new Journey ahead. In the future let go your fixed mindset , and let your self fly like an eagle.

Beautiful Minds Poets