As the sun's rays began to filter through the wood's canopy,
it struck the boy's eyelids. He opened them and he could see …….
that the serpent was coiled round about him still.
Manu wanted to struggle, but he no longer had the will-
power.
'How long will this creature, so cold, toy with me?
Will no one come looking for Manu, and set me finally free? '
These thoughts and others he had as he lay on the ground.
And, to his surprise and disgust, flies began to buzz around ….
his mouth.
His mouth was dry, and it was open. To close it, he was unable.
He wondered: 'What breakfast does my mum serve at the table …….
to my DEAR siblings?
[Yes, the longer he suffered, the more dear ….his family did seem.]
'Will she be serving warm rice porridge, with a bit of cool cream? '
The flies entered his mouth, and his nose, and even his ears.
And soon other small scavengers came, …..increasing his fears.
A large millipede crossed Manu's cold clammy brow.
'Please, God', Manu prayed, 'release me. Release me now! '
But he was not released. No, it wasn't Manu's 'time' yet.
He wished for some raindrops to fall, his parched lips to wet.
Instead, the sun, as it usually did, started to heat the woods.
'If somehow I escape alive', he prayed, 'I'll FOREVER be good.'
He thought of his papa, Kanav, and of Seema, his mum.
He thought of Ayman, Ashwin, and Subash [some].
Would sister, Savita, get her wish to move to the U.S.?
Would brother, Rajesh, someday be a priestly confess-
or?
Would sister, Valsa, write poems and be a profess-
or? ?
Would his family miss him? Would his teacher remember?
[All the while, in those coils, Manu was feeling like a…..
dying ember.]
The snake was aroused by the sun's heat, and felt NO …..boy's heartbeat.
Now was its time to make a decision. [To eat or not to EAT ….the boy?]
She had eaten a smaller boy once, including one leather sandal.
The snake decided that the boy was MORE than it cared to handle.
Besides, it really wasn't terribly hungry. A large rat would do ….well enough.
So the coils released the boy's body. The snake slithered away.
The scavengers took over from her. And the snake started her day.
Letter to Myself
David Kush
Born on Christmas Eve 1963, David D Kush is a native of Indiana, United States of America. A prolific writer and a regular in poetry groups, David Kush writes so that his words give “Hope and Light” to humanity. Moulded in the furnace of life’s devastating experiences, his poems fill the readers with Eros, the life wish. He recalls his rendezvous with poetry: “After trying to take my life and going into a deep depression, I cried out to the Lord to put me back to the way I was. He heard my cries. When the depression lifted, I started writing as never before”. In other words, his life itself is a poetic tale of pain yielding pleasure. In “Letter to Myself”, the poet addresses himself. The grief and regret that shroud the beginning of the poem give way to hope and triumph at the end.
I really didn't see it coming
The pain I put you through
All those lonely nights
When I wasn't there for you
I can feel the pent up anger
The hate that's consuming you
I guess I lost my chance at heaven
By the hell I put you through
If we could start over again
Would we feel the same?
Or would the past kill any chance
Of ending any other way?
I don't know what to tell you
I don't know what to say
But one thing I know for certain
Tomorrow brings a brand new day.
The Logic in Laughter
Douglas Scotney
Born in Toowoomba, Queensland Australia in 1953 to ex-farming stock of German and English extraction, Douglas Scotney did his education at the University of Queensland and later at SACAE, Adelaide. He is engaged in a perennial quest for sense, order, understanding, knowledge of self and relaxation. A versatile artist with a degree in Visual Arts, Scotney finds delight in poetry, film, gardening, fiction, chess and spectating sport. Originally titled “The Dalai Lama’s Laugh”, “The Logic in Laughter” is a disturbing short poem that explores the mental mechanics of laughter. The reader can only admire the tenacity and logic of the poet when he says that happiness lies in being less happy.
Strange, challenging logic,
that we seek happiness on the plain
because seeking it amongst the peaks
through refinement of talent
and inspiration by one faith
breeds unhappy rejects
and revenge-seeking discards:
to not have them, to be less happy.
Happiness lying in being less happy.
We need less to make us laugh.
Humans are Unique
Dr Antony Theodore
Dr Antony Theodore is a poet and writer hailing from Dortmund, Germany. Born on 9th of November 1955, Dr Theodore amazes the world with his God-given gift to write simple yet profound poems. His poems are also noted for the strong religious undercurrent that sometimes lends the poems an unusual gravity and depth. “Humans are Unique” is a typical poem that bears the stamp of Dr Antony Theodore’s religious convictions and poetic creed. The poem helps us realise that in poetry, even simplicity can be deceptive and pregnant with meaning.
Humans are unique
For they find meaning in attraction.
Consciously embrace love’s gift.
In bliss we are conceived.
In bliss we shall live.
In bliss we shall return.
Self is eternal bliss
Self is eternal consciousness.
Self is God.
Beyond
Dr Fabrizio Frosini
Dr Fabrizio Frosini is an Italian doctor in Medicine and a specialist in Neurosurgery. Born in Tuscany in 1953, Dr Fab currently lives in the vicinity of Florence, near Vinci, the hometown of Leonardo da Vinci. The geographic proximities apart, Dr Fabrizio Frosini harbours an ancient passion for poetry in his bosom. Armed with a mindscape and a landscape saturated with arts and literature, he has authored about 1500 poems spread across 13 volumes. The poem “Beyond” belongs to the anthology The Chinese Gardens – English Poems (Amazon, 2015). It yokes the past and the present with love and dream to produce a lingering poetic effect akin to musical and mystical experiences.
Go beyond the past.
Go beyond the present.
Will you love me when night
Falls and nordic winds blow
All those drunken eyes out?
When those cleansed people
Wandering through other times
And places, look around aimlessly
In search of some remains of
What was once their soul —
And we too, among them?
Will you love me when the house
We can't find anymore, quietly sink
In other people’s world?
Alas,
Our hearts won't heal in small dreams.
Regretfully, we can't help but go on.
Everlasting Giants
Dr Sima Farshid
Dr Sima Farshid is an Assistant Professor in the Department of English at Islamic Azad University, Iran. She has been teaching various literary courses for the last 20 years. “Everlasting Giants” is a symbolic poem that yields itself to multiple layers of signification and interpretation. It is obvious that the giants are not giants as we know them. On the one hand, the po
em puts in perspective the different phases in man’s growth and evolution. On the other, it ridicules the inconsistencies in human judgment and evaluation.
From the moment
you learn
to say Dad,
a lot of giants
stand against you.
How they’re alive,
you’re never told.
Thinking of them,
not your right;
merely obey
to the end of time.
Everlasting giants
are always there.
Unlike those of epics,
no hero defeats them;
fighting with them is futile.
But after some years,
a miracle happens;
old enemies
begin to speak
by your own tongue.
They never forsake you!
Hidden Treasures
Edward Kofi Louis
Edward Kofi Louis is a poet and an artist born and raised in Ghana, West Africa. Born on 13th of October 1961, Kofi Louis has distinguished himself as a poet, ball-point pen artist, mathematician and innovator. "Hidden Treasures" is a contemplation on the treasures of life given to us by the Creator Almighty. We were made to come and learn on earth, armed with the right to choose. Love expands the world. Some people have chosen it that way; however, wickedness destroys the earth. Many have gone that way as well, with the muse of terrorism. Word play coupled with music ensure that the poem is a satisfying repast.
The muse of love,
With beauty and passion;
With the truth leading the way,
For the peace of the land,
In unity with all mankind,
Along the ways of righteousness.
The mystic of life!
Seeking for the works of righteousness always;
For the peace of the earth,
But, with the mysteries of life as well at times.
Hidden treasures of love,
Hidden treasures of life,
Hidden treasures of peace,
Hidden treasures of joy when, the truth is found;
Forward, Edward, ward, award, reward, outward, inward!
Afterwards with the muse of unity in the land.
Wickedness,
Attacks!!!
Seen very common on earth today;
And one was shot dead and thrown into the Indian Ocean,
Deep in the ocean floor.
Branches of love,
What we need is peace on earth than war!!
New life and, new dreams;
Let us overcome wickedness with righteous works,
Respecting all mankind on earth.
Lone ranger!!
But no stranger;
Your body belongs to you,
So, use it wisely with positive works.
Mused, used!
Golden sunrise,
With the muse of sweet love;
Vintage,
Like a rainy Highway in your land.
News, blues!
The flow,
The touches,
In the wild!
With your joy,
And, with the pride of the flowers of love.
Love with structure,
Deep in texture,
Soft touches,
Soft colours,
The taste of love!
Like the agriculture of the land;
With the muse of the culture of the people.
The kisses of life!
The fragrance of nature,
The romance of beauty!!
Attractive front view;
Like the muse of a magical landscape.
Words of joy!!!
With the reflections of life;
The expectations of nature,
With figures in motion;
But, handle your emotions with the works of the truth and live in peace.
Native dreams!
Joyful beauty,
The blues of sweet love;
With souls in unity.
Swirl!!
With the abstracts of life;
Reversing the number 700 to give us 007!
Because, the joy of life is with the strength of true love.
Bridge, ridge!
The strength of love is with the strength of peace;
So, lace your shoes and stand up for the works of the truth,
Like the Yellow Trains seen in South Korea.
Lace your shoes and face the people!
Love is the way and, peace if the key;
With the muse of the art works of the clouds,
Respecting the colours of the rainbow when it appears.
St John of Kronstadt and a Girl
Elizaveta Sudina
Elizaveta Sudina is a contemporary Russian poetess who writes in her native Russian as well as in English. Born on 29th September 1979, Miss Sudina has achieved acclaim as a bilingual poetess and translator. Since 2008, she has published four poetry anthologies (around 700 poems). Further, she has close to 200 poetry translations to her credit, bringing hitherto unknown Russian poets to the world audience. “St. John of Kronstadt and a Girl” is a short poem that narrates an epiphanic moment in the speaker’s life. The anodyne property of poetry is subtly hinted at through this poem even as the heart ache of the speaker vanishes in the presence of St John of Kronstadt.
Once in a park distressful as I was sitting,
An unknown man came from the street:
“Serving to God, like priest, I’m here
To help you, open, please, your heart to me,
And be sincere”. “Of suicide I’m thinking.
All relatives abandoned me”.
“God, Jesus Christ of everyone is grieving,
And how do you say, in you there is no need”.
And suddenly my heart stopped aching,
As if an angel talked to me,
And then the people told me, it was there
Saint John of Kronstadt, whom I’ve seen.
Love Criminal Justice
Ernest Gift Makuakua
Ernest Gift Makuakua is an administrator and assistant manager from Johannesberg, South Africa. Born on 30th September 1990, Makuakua calls himself a Son of God. He emphatically asserts that he is the past and the future. He is a jack of all trades – a poet, an artist, a writer, a singer and a business man. “Love Criminal Justice” is a superbly crafted love poem that enshrines the virtues involved in the marital vow. The speaker assumes the role of a love criminal justice detective eventually arresting and detaining the criminal – his beloved – to his heart. Putting someone in jail also ensures that the person won’t be stolen by someone else.
I am the love criminal justice Detective.
Have you been single for almost more than a year?
That’s a punishable crime.
You will be suspended to my eyes,
locked into my heart,
given a sentence of a life time to my life.
You will be released by marriage from your home to our home.
You will have a mark of being convicted to the love criminal justice by a ring on your finger
You shall get a parole award for the most well behaved criminal by having a child to love
You are now arrested to my heart.
You! Will have the right to speak and the right to freedom.
The right to love,
and live, and the responsibility to express your feelings.
This is another episode of life
And if you are in love with me
Then you are arrested to my heart.
Respect the law!
The Woman Who Loved Roses
Francis Duggan
Francis Duggan (1946 - ) is a contemporary Australian poet. He hails from Koroit in Australia. He has carved out a niche for himself with his inimitable style of writing. His poems are wonderful expressions of a beautiful mind. “The Woman Who Loved Roses” is a sh
ort poem of sixteen lines with a simple rhyme scheme aa bb cc dd. Quietly the poet asserts that the memory of a person lives long after he/she is physically gone. In memory, the beauty of the rose gets transmuted onto the woman; that beauty rarely fades. For the poet, memory is a register of the sacred past.
The woman who loved roses - where might she be today?
'Twas said she left our valley for a land far away
At daybreak she hears the birds sing in the quiet of her bedroom
And out in her front garden the rose trees are in bloom.
The colours are amazing the red and pink and white
And the purple and the yellow make for a pretty sight
She waters her flower beds and her rose trees before the heat of day
In her garden by the meadow that smell of new mown hay.
The woman who loved roses has not been sighted for some while
She was a lovely lady with sunshine in her smile
Around our old green valley her was a well-loved face
We missed her for we loved her and none to take her place.
The woman who loved roses she passed on years ago
And above where she is resting a little rose tree grow
Yet she has been seen often in her garden far away
Watering her flower beds and her rose trees before the heat of day.
Mirror
Jesus James Llorico
Jesus James Llorico hails from the beautiful province of Iloilo, Philippines. He was a former member of the Police Force in his hometown for a couple years and later on joined the Bureau of Fire Protection in the Visayas. He left Philippines for the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia where he worked for 22 years. Currently, he is connected with the Prince Sultan Airbase in Al Kharj. He is a regular contributor to the Panay News, and The Kabayan Weekly. Working abroad, away from his native land and loved ones, it is in writing poetry that Jesus finds comfort and forgets solitude. “Mirror” is a haiku about an actual mirror on the wall. In the darkness, when one is alone, the mirror returns to haunt. It is at once real and unreal, right and wrong. Mystery enshrouds the poem as the reader is caught in a labyrinth.
Pain Pleasure and Paradox in Poetry: A Verse Compendium Page 2
