Sunday, August 4, 2019

Zenaida Laragan Taloza, Piano di Sorrento, Italy

Tomorrow
Tomorrow shall be a beautiful day..
Differs from the day that just past away..
It feels the soul strongly to get up fairly..
Tomorrow, attempt to forget failures freely.
Tomorrow go against the weaknesses..
Putting more faith to our Omnipotent..
All deterrent offenses of today and yesterday..
Lock them up into the box of forgetfulness..
Tomorrow open the heart start to live again.
Foster to share generosity benign..
Encouraging the grace from opulent heart
With energy and faithfulness chant..
Tomorrow try to nourish new hues enliven..
Motivates mind and bring solace
Ambivalent emotions of ebullient feelings.
Harmony and peace ladders to reach dreams.
Heart is now open wide in great faith..
Lurking gracefully like a pleasant manifest..
Knowing would have realized nonetheless..
That tomorrow may harness such hidden mystery..
(c) 2019 Zenaida Laragan Taloza



Arun Sharma, Mumbai, Maharashtra, India

Prayers
Time to realize
Why ancestors prayed to
Nature's gods
The Earth, Fire,Water, Air
Today
When home seems to be on
A small island
Romantic rain turned into
A life scare
I wonder so much water
Rain god brings from where
And on the other extreme
The Sun busy roasting
Helpless lives
Science challenged the ecology
Dreamt of conquering Nature
And lo behold
See the fury now
Again to square one
Praying my God
To have mercy on
Poor us
To suffer this assault
How long!

(c) 2019 arun sharma


Rose Booth (new member, no information)

Every word of every tongue is
Love telling a story to her own ears.
Every thought in every mind,
She whispers a secret to her own Self.
Every vision in every eye,
She shows her beauty to her own sight.
Every smile on every face,
She reveals her own joy for herself to enjoy.
Love courses through everything,
No, Love is everything.
How can you say, there is no love,
when nothing but Love exists?
All that you see has appeared because of Love.
All shines from Love,
All pulses with Love,
All flows from Love--
No, once again, all IS Love!
(c) 2019 Rose Booth


Nattie O'Sheggzy, Osogbo, Osun, Nigeria

Courage

Who can but bear life's load all alone
And trudge through this insane world
An incuba brimming in ugliness men hug
A long winding path we all pass through
Who can swim against the tide life tosses
Our way. Or breast the tape at living's dead end
Oars broken, sails rent, grasping the last breath
On this fierce ocean of vicissitudes all alone

(c) 2019 Nattie O'Sheggzy


Pride Matsei, Hatfield, Gauteng, South Africa



This is a first time appearance in our Community Blog by this poet. We welcome you.  Please also check out her YouTube Video referenced at the end of this post.  I am sorry that blogspot does not support the YouTube Link.  Copy and paste it into your YouTube link.

WHAT A WASTE OF LOVE!___
So, we sit still, motionless. 
Listening to the silence sipping through the Dark cracks of what we once called... us
So we,
Listen to the echoes of what might have been memories of the good times we've never had.
Peering into your eyes trying to find the soul you said you have... none
Trying to find words I should've said the very first day I laid eyes on you,
I am sorry I am not what you need from me... 
I am sorry I am Not what you define love to be.
I am not a replica of whom you once had. 
I am not a body programmed with multiple personalities of the people in your fantasies 
I am tired of being him.
So here I am... 
Standing at the back door of my own heart... 
Again 
Hoping not to find you convincing it that you are a necessity to it's function.
With the hope to let myself in and give me a sound apology
Flashback...
To the day the mirror had my own exact reflection on it, and the thoughts I had were my own...
To the day I left my own self to be with you
To the day I abandoned all I was for all you wanted to have. Selfish...
When you twisted every inch of me into heaven knows who?
A personality, puppeteered like Pinocchio on strings you left me hanging...
Like a body left lifeless of the person It used to be. What a shame
So I give in... Not even I would want to talk to myself when there's nothing left of me
Not even I would love myself the way you never did
This is it... I am letting go 
Of every part of me I betrayed by subjecting myself to the love you gave
I am letting go... of the person you created in me while neglecting everything I am and wanna be... 
What a waste of "LOVE"
_______________________________________
NB... "This Video continues on my YouTube channel
Please, Kindly Visit My YouTube Channel:
"Pride Speaks"  https://youtu.be/EtrlNY8w6f8
And Subscribe for more videos like this 



Vaishali Vohra, Mumbai, Maharashtra, India

Time Will Move On
Time Is moving on
Then why time is not moving on? 
Struggle seems permanent
Days are same cloudy
Nights are same blind
Storms are same permanent
Sunlight is same unpleasant 
But I am standing firmly
fighting continuously
Wearing the shoes of dedication
The cap of determination
The outfit of motivation
The coat of implementation
Everyday,
heavy rain wets me with grief
sunlight burns my dreams
storm shakes my plans
snowfall drops my Actions
But,
I am standing firmly
Fighting continuously 
soon,
These dark days will be gone
These horrible nights will be gone
These deadly storms will be gone
N my success will be on
then, my time too will move on
Thus, I too, will move on
Until then, I will work upon
I will work upon 
(c) 2019 Vaishali Vohra



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

I would like to share
some gentle thought as
the morning breeze, or
a few words that reminded
the taste of honey
Any exit that would allow us
to escape the sonic and visual
Bombardment of the huge city,
and that, by a few moments,
Would bring us the rights of
to dream of a healthier world...
More humane!
© 2019 Gel Poetry Garden



Sunita Hussain, Noida (National Capital Region), Uttar Pradesh, India

Be free from negativity
It pains to see people in pain,
Immersed in the pool of melancholy.
Important to cut down negative train,
Begotten ill to be well taken care.
Is it necessary to pass on
What we get from others?
Transfer of heat with thoughts,
feelings are not to be shared.
The cycle of hatred to be
stopped somewhere.
Replacing anguish with smile,
creating a difference with joy,
Can't we make it worthwhile.
Let there be living to enjoy.
© 2019 Sunita

Jamie Leigh Jones, Mount Olive, North Carolina, USA

Resilient Wings
The wooden floor soaks up her tears of pain as her broken, bloody wings swing from the chains
Wings once White that added glory to her name now ripped from her back torn apart and stained
Her thoughts and prayers so hollow without her wings so bright
Above her head they hang drowning out the light
Drops of her tainted blood drip down upon her skin
Sizzling as they burn and leave marks on her soul deep within
Chained and bound by despair and smothering grief
She just couldn't hang on any longer needing guidance and relief
Lost is she as her spirit and body grow weak
But to her feet she rises never swaying from her beliefs
Reaching out her hands as they tremble from her fear
She feels a warming presence so far but yet so near
She lifts her weary head to watch the blood stains fade away
And her wings of White start glowing as they lower from the chains
Hope enters her body as they begin to reattach and heal with grace
As light surrounds her body and lifts her from that lonely, darkened place
(c) 2019 Jamie Leigh Jones
Inside the Corners of My Mind Poetry



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

Ratty

Poor old Ratty, how I love thee
Undeserved, is the reputation that precedes you
You’ve gone and got yourself
Spreading wildfires of disease, for being
Such a magnificent, beautiful, little meddlesome creature.

Born like all - life forms
Naturally, upon these manifested planes
Of illusionary and misguided perceptions
Of what is, and is not the truth
Of realistic, representative values.

Mankind, has always, had habitual inconsistencies
Blaming issues, continually, upon others
Irrespective of facts and realities
Fairness and equality, to all other life forms
Living wishfully, in peaceful harmonies upon this world.

In fact, it wasn’t poor old Ratty’s blameworthiness
Dubbing his species, with the labelling, pest, or vermin
When factually, it was us, that's the invader
Reducing thoughtlessly, in exponential expansions, across territories of every species, known to mankind
Tarnished with the same brush and stupidity, in killing poor old Ratty’s, natural predators.

I look forward to the day when so-called humanity looks back, heads bowed in unforgivable shame
The perpetrators, in reckless thoughtlessness and behavioural issues;
We’re the plague, the scourge, upon the earth;
And maybe, just maybe, while our species suffer futuristically from world mismanagement
In realising our foolishness, inappropriate behaviours, we sincerely apologise, to Poor old Ratty!


© 2019 Clive Norman



Craig Burt, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, USA

Thunder is screaming
Heart fearing
My room rattled
Skies darken, glooming
I wrapped myself tight in vainMy anxious feelings weep
(C) 2019 Craig J. Burt 


Maria Elvira Fernandes Correia, Sao Paulo Brazil

#cherita

This tread of dawn lights

It meeting you awakened
to the day of mine and verses

Quill and Ink on canvas drawing
sight of lyrics melody,
this our days wrap tales, feelings its samples

Copyright (c)2019 MEFC

 

Mary Lynn Luiz, Winter Haven, Florida, USA

I Hope 

I saw you coming toward me and when
I looked into your eyes I fell in love!
As you touched my hands and held them, saying " Hello.
The smile on your face told me you loved me instantly also!
Flames of fire danced between your touch and mine!
The loving arms that enfolded and caressed you,
with tenderness of an angel’s wings, where mine.
Lost in your embrace was a feeling, I considered to be divine!
Your kiss swept me away, to a world where I had never been,
raptured me and then brought me back again!
How could this love so filled with passion and bliss,
that we shared for so long be only a memory that exists?
My heart is full of hairline cracks,
Where love for you keeps seeping through.
I keep making things to do, to try and forget about you.
But when I tire and stop, I find myself in thoughts of you!
I hope you find eyes of blue, that see you the same way as I do
I hope you find a love like mine, to kiss your lips with love divine.
I hope you find love, not lust and you’ll know the difference before you say “Hello”!
I hope you find a love so pure you’ll stay together your whole life through!
I hope again before I die, I’ll meet the man who will take me to the sky!
With a love so pure that our souls will thrive, together we’ll fly so high!
Within his kiss and embrace, we’ll survive, becoming as one until we die!
And with God's help and guidance, my dreams will come true. I’ll be satisfied!

© 2019 Mary Lynn Luiz 



Dolores Altea Lapinid, Marikina City, Metro Manila, Philippines

#haibun
Sampaguita *
Long ago, Rosita, the daughter of the Datu of Gagalangin and Delfin, the son of the Datu of Balintawak, fell in love with each other. Both of their parents are mortal enemies.
forbidden love
disregard family feud
meets secretly
The lovers meet secretly at night when the moon was bright near the boundary of their respective territory.
Each territory has a bamboo fence. Both parties see to it that territorial divisions are observed. One time a territorial battle occured. Delfin led the battle for Barangay Balintawak. He was young and inexperienced. He was hit badly. Before his death, he told his men that he will be buried near the boundary.
I'm ready to fight
what is mine is really mine.
till the last drop
Rosita too got sick. Before she died. she told her father that she will be buried near their property boundary.
my body will rest
in our secret meeting place
with sweet memories
Time passed and there were changes made by the government. Some people said that a small bush grew near the boundaries of former Balintawak and Gagalangin. It had small white flowers and fragrant smell at night. They could hear moans of the dead lovers saying, "Sumpa kita( I swear)." Later the flowers came to be known as Sampaguita.
dainty white flowers
with sweet fragrance at night
remembrance of Love 

© 2019 Dolores Altea Lapinid

*Sampaguita is the national flower of the Philippines



Henry Farrell, London, England, United Kingdom

With Unquiet Thoughts
In loud think the heart...
The self, a blessed host,
That super-abundant the impart
Of air...our haughty fluting utmost
Of heavenly wisdom, and free winged,
A might enough...is the heart...of emotions,
That by truth of the wind...
Thou are...the uplifted; rhythmic of love's fickle'd potions;
The unquiet, not seen or smell, but feels,
And that to move with as rational beings,
With little interrogation or care of ills;
And possibly, that love rarely happens with wrong beginnings:
Alack! There shall be them...of love's continuous dreaming...
With unquiet hearts, seeking love's true meaning ✍️
© 2019 H. Farrell


Mirella Ester Pennone Masi, Pavia, Italy

GOCCIA DI RUGIADA
Scende la sera,
ha spento l’azzurro
e il rosso dei papaveri.
L’acqua delle rogge
fluisce gorgogliando
nelle chiuse
balzella.
Nel cielo blu
la luna brilla;
questa notte
sarò
la goccia di rugiada
che non posa...
evaporerò
assetata
del tuo respiro.

La gota de rocío
Cae la tarde
ha apagado el azul
y amapolas rojas.
El agua en los canales
que fluye, burbujas,
en el cielo azul
la luna brilla;
esta noche
seré
gota de rocío
que no plantea ...
evaporearse
sedienta
de su aliento.


DEEP DROP

Evening falls,
has turned off the blue
and the red of the poppies.

The water from the irrigation ditches
it flows gurgling
in the locks
Balzella.

In the blue sky
the moon shines;
this night
I will be
the dewdrop
that doesn't pose ...

I will evaporate
thirsty
for your breath.

(c) 2019 Mirella Ester Pennone Masi



Sher Chandley, Roodeport, Gauteng, South Africa

The Bonds that Bind
I know a man
I know many men
So many I can't count
In the general tradition
Love their sons and daughters
Oh how they love them so !
Seems beyond divine instinct
Feed and clothe them
Teach them with patient care
Succour them in illness
Through gales and sunshine
I know a man
I know many men
So many I can't count
That transmit hatefulness
Into their beloved progeny
The same hatefulness
That was induced in them
Milk and bread of poison
Filial bonds that bind
So I ask you father
Is this truly love ?
Can it be a bond ?
Or rather a binding chain
That shackles the soul
A burrowing fetid worm
That rots to the core
I know a man
I know many men
So many I can't count
Who know not
That they pollute
Love with hate .
(c) 2019 Sher Chandley 


Rajiv Gwra Basumatary, Kokrajhar, Assam, India

Fragrance of my heart
Beyond.....
My imagination canvas
You are beyond my words too
How can I explain her beauty !
Her eyes are half closed mildly
Her rosy cheeks bursting into red
Lips with perfectly pink of hue
Walking on tiptoe tiptoe tracks
Her fragrance marks leave
Saying ! Good bye !
She's a silvery fairy of the Heaven
Her laughter opens up flowers
Her golden hair glistens like sunrise
She's very elegant like rosy rose
All eyes stare at her stunning looks
She's in my heart so dearly lovely
Never ending forever endearing
She's a rosy rose of my love and
Fragrance of my heart.

(C) 2019  Rajiv Gwra Basumatary




Saturday, August 3, 2019

David W Palmer, Community Administrator, Auburn, Washington, USA

written
like a breath

whispered in your ear
seen upon a grain
sung into your soul

(c) 2019 david w palmer
a gogyohka




Friday, August 2, 2019

Chandan Bhattacharya, Garbeta, West Bengal, India

Peter, I am yours (A religious guy)
Lifetime
In your decorated garden
I set fire
The ash decorated garden is yours!
You know, my life. I swear
I didn't want to;
Sixteen to twenty
Twenty to twenty-two
I love your poems
Drunk in poetry;
And you are feeling overwhelmed
My Picture
Sometimes Helen, sometimes Anita, sometimes Polly, sometimes Nargis
In your poem;
When the sun inside you does little
Heating me up
Then, one of the four walls cracked in the crack
I saw a curved moon;
And where is that naughty autopsy?
Hint me;
And I, that's the life I am
In the garden of life
I set fire!
And that naughty autopsy bird
Immediately blew me away
Where I don't know!
Poison Nargis as you write
Just a little poison
Nectar I don't want;
Lifetime, my Peter
I know
I know my beloved Peter
I have no forgiveness
Forgive my life, Peter
I know
Your poem's cuckoo
Never calls Kuhu anymore!
When tears
Everything will be over
Then
Towards that dry star
Once
At least once
Look at that dry star
See?
I'm yours, my beloved Peter
I'm yours, I'm also yours;
Peter!
A religious guy
© 2019 Chandan Bhattacharya



Alberto Palomo, Lexington, South Carolina, USA



The images
bring you back... again

I lose and find them
on the streets
dawns
and in some talk I hear by chance

Memories of a yellow carnation
shy smile
full Moon
kiss of Life
ecstasy and ghosts

I no longer dance
well... I do not dance with anyone
unconsciously... I do it
following my senses

it's a prayer
meditation in motion
my particular yoga

I'm dancing
at the light of a single bulb
fireflies
amateur orchestras
scattered couples
summer nights
Small town
sand... stars
hangovers

I'm not the one I was
nor... who I'll be
right now
my heart sets the rhythm

How and when
this dance will end
attracts me... the most
mystery until the last words
© 2019 Alberto Palomo 2019
(©3thoreau)
“ Golden Hawk ”


Nupur Chakrabarty, New Dehli, India

World Inside
I stop my mind.
It still weaves thoughts!
In the still of my mind
where the light sleeps,
I find the sweetest delight
Now I am awake
listening to the calls...
coming from unknown worlds ,
they seem so close.
The stars are so bright!
© 2918 Nupur Chakrabarty 





Ajeyemi Abdulwasiu Kolawole, Ilorin, Kwara, Nigeria

Forbidden food
Whose scientists prove;
Not to eat forbidden food?
We have bat eyes;
To find our daily bread,
not blind.
We are blind in eating
The Forbidden food not shy.
We are friend with dog
To share the food.
With our child,
We can not only eat with spoon
But also with our palms.
With our tongues,
We can't taste the aroma
But to fill up.
Whose scientists prove
Not to eat forbidden food?

© 2019 Ajeyemi Abdulwasiu




Zenaida Laragan Taloza, Piano di Sorrento, Italy

Tomorrow Tomorrow shall be a beautiful day.. Differs from the day that just past away.. It feels the soul strongly to get up fairly.. Tom...