Living Poems
Barren paper
by Bhuwan Thapaliya
A pallid
sheet of paper
teases me
with its randy glare,
......
Afraid
by Alexis Gaetz
She’s afraid of spiders, heights, losing and snakes. I’m afraid to sail and make mistakes.
He’s afraid of clowns and baboons. She’s afraid of dogs and raccoons.
One jumps at the sound of balloons popping, and the other jumps at horns honking.
He is afraid to read aloud, and she is afraid to be in a crowed.
They hate small spaces, and they hate frowning faces.
What are you afraid of? They wondered. What I told them, they all shuddered.
I’m afraid of all those things and more. I said. I’m afraid of insects, the dentist and laying in bed.
I’m afraid of grass, trees and everything that grows. I’m afraid of rocks, roads and mud in my toes.
I hate eating and drinking, working and tinking. Breathing is hard for me, and why do I have to see.
I’m afraid of dying she said. Me, I’m afraid of surviving.
......
Remembering Until...
by RW Stauter
I heard a song that took me back
The lake in ‘85
Almost like we were still there
And she was still alive
I listened and I sang along
Then heard her voice so clear
Singing with me, in my head
As if she was right here
......
In Decline
by Jesus Betancourt
Democracies are just an experiment
Republics don't offer a guarantee
History repeats past to the present
Civilizations are inclined towards declivity
In every existing society
Certain factors are responsible
For potential destruction of every community
It's why the prediction of extinction is possible
Heading Down The Road
by Jeffrey Pipes Guice
Heading down the road
Going nowhere...
Trying to get away
From my obsessions...
Tired of feeling like
I’m always out there...
Searching for the answers
To my questions...
Just a drunk
......
some poets
by Rikske Kessner
"A Small Hedge of Words"
Some say I lose the forest
chasing metaphors in the moss.
That I trim truth to fit a stanza
and dress up plain meaning
in finest alliterative frock.
......
never in the hands
by Rikske Kessner
what’s solid keeps shifting,
a kind of slow slide
beneath the day’s footing—
a small body of water
giving way to something larger
held just past the edge
of keeping it together—
and still the errands call,
......
still, the Earth breathes
by Rikske Kessner
Beneath the ash-grey skies of longing,
the earth breathes—not for you,
not for me, but for itself.
A pulse steady, undaunted by
the footsteps we leave behind.
You will see the shadows move,
and not ask why.
You will taste the salt of oceans past,
and still the waves will rise—
......
Remembering Until...
by RW Stauter
I heard a song that took me back
The lake in ‘85
Almost like we were still there
And she was still alive
I listened and I sang along
Then heard her voice so clear
Singing with me, in my head
As if she was right here
......
Why is there suffering in the world?
by Tiffany Lưu
we say candles light
but not that the room darkened
countless stars shine bright
yet space had never faded
glow would not be known
when there’s no gloom to be shown
flowers and rainbows
mere myths mortals blown
......
