Read Poem: #Luv by Dimple Mapari

# ♥ LUV ♥ #


da most beautiful filin# ♥♥
awsm # amazn#Luv # Luv # Luv#♥♥♥!
like # care# and share#
snapchat# fb # twitter declare
I am # we are in luv #
Dis is 4 da world to kno#
U complete da incomplete side of me#
U r ma universe# u changed ma life#
And all those cheesy lines#
Fb says I luv u # twitter says u luv me#
Snapchat instagram validate it.
Dp , status profile pic
Only two of us  #
but wait…
……….. (error) error 404#
# the heart is not responding,
U don’t hav time for me#
I saw u wid som1 else#
Chats mute, instagram silent,
Dps changed ,
Static status# calls # today 400 times#
Missed calls # sorry I was in hurry#
Could not take it#
Could not make it#
Fb pages removed, edited # blog posts deleted,
Messangers mute, last seen at one minute ago#
No conversation#
Online # no messages #
Restless #
Lonely dps# painful profile pics, aching hearts
Sorrowful # dejected #
Deserted emojis # stickers#
Silent phones ♫ #
tones # ringtones ♪ #
# the subscriber has moved out of coverage area
#the subscriber is on another call
#kindly stay tuned…
#leave your message after a beep….
# the number your are calling is switched off,
#the number you are calling does not exist———–

#luv # lost # left # removed # deleted #
status # Available….

By- Dimple D. Mapari,

Read Poem: Perseverance by The Aspergers Poet

Please stop for a minute.
Yes, I’m talking to you.
Don’t do what it is that,
You’re planning to do.

Let these words talk to you
While I have your attention.
I won’t tell you I know the
Things you’re going through.

Just know that the pain
You’re feeling right now?
I’ve been there, reaching
For the solution in whatever

Form it may take – cold steel,
Booze or pills. So even though
I don’t know you, we have, at this
Point, something in common now.

I was twenty seven the first time
I felt I was out of options. Taking
Those pills and that blade that
Day, I tried to put myself away.

I felt like I was screaming inside
Remember I’ve been where you
Are. I’ve walked that mile in those
Shoes; I want you to know that

You are stronger than you realise.
This is a fight you can win, even
If your doubts drown everything
Out, hold on a little longer and stay,

Let me talk to you. Let my words
Pick you up, even if you don’t
Think you can do it, I’ll share
This pain; be a voice of reason.

You have better times ahead
Believe me, try to see, I beg of
you don’t take your life. Instead,
Take my hand – we’ll make this right.

I don’t think inside the box, I don’t think outside the box, I don’t even know where the box is.

Aspergers Poet

Read Poem: Life on Mars by Lea Galanter

from Camille Patha, “Sunset (Beach Fever Series),” 1978

I remember
coming up from below
during the few times
we dared show
our faces, our bodies
the red sky matching
the garnet necklace
a gift from my grandmother
on my sixteenth birthday
me now a woman

I’d pick the few blades
of what had managed to survive
rub the green-brown between my fingers
feel its softness
my mother’s cheek
now lost in the blueness
she too wild to contain
had wanted to ride
with the waves

— Lea Galanter

Read Poem: A WOMAN LIKE ME by Kuli Kohli

A woman like me should
get up in the early hours,
prepare and cook good food;
get kids ready with magic powers.
Have a spotless kitchen, bathroom;
a dust free house and make the beds,
shop, wash, wipe, clean, iron, put away;
do all daily chores with love, care and pride.
Then go to work. Be organised and tidy.
Help the kids with their homework,
take them here, there, everywhere;
serve her demanding family
without a single frown.
To respect all around her;
to speak at the right time;
know what to do at all times;
to know her culture inside out.
Have all the energy and never give up;
to keep on going, serving all and everyone.
To live like other women, behave and resemble
proper ladies amongst an expecting society.
Be clever, intelligent, beautiful, sensual;
last but not least, be a goddess in bed…
Yet to serve herself feels like a crime.
Sometimes she does not want this
strong, tough expectant life style;
she wants to be somewhere
else; someone else to sit
and just watch herself.
A woman like me hey?
Except I don’t know
a woman like me,
I only know me.

Read Poem: THE PROMISE by Arloa L. Means

In a still small voice, barely heard,

Though the wind be but a whisper, leaves are stirred.

In the fragrant incense of a prayer,

Lies the everlasting promise, God is there.

God said, call upon my name give me no rest,

‘Till the people I have chosen call me blessed,

In the land where they will dwell secure,

I have given you my promise, it is sure.

It’s a nation, born of one desire,

As it rises from the ashes, tried by fire,

To return and claim the Promised Land,

People who will not be beaten down again.

So let all creation praise His name,

Youth renewed like morning dew, from latter rain,

It’s not thunder sounding loud again,

But the blending heartbeats of a million men.

Though these ancient bones be dry and old,

God has sewn them back together as foretold,

Standing now, and walking as a man,

Israel has become a Nation once again.

Arloa L. Means-© all rights reserved-2008 (From the musical play written for the 50th.Anniversary of the establishment of the State of Israel)

Read Poem: LOVE BASKET by Silas Ola-Abayomi

Trapped in basket of love,
in love garden without
a lover;
her beauty sedates me,
just as it excites me,
she hypnotizes me with
elegance and
mesmerizes me with
golden tone.

Heart becomes
prison of love
and angel takes no
notice of it,
I lost-
in courtyard of love,
I traded for
sighting love-
in the house of
uncaring lover.

Enchanted by her
intoxicated by her smile,
from tree top-I watch
her step walk every
from roof top-I watch
her evening relaxation-
in the midst of sentry;
she care less about
my feelings.

Anytime-I see her-
I’m deactivated,
still her vivacity brings
me back to life;
anytime-she walks pass
brain grids become
eye turns automatic
camera to capture life

Anytime-she talks-
acoustics in me goes
to work,
mind composes lyrics
of love,
cochlea becomes mixer
of rhythm.

I’m dying of love-
but no one knows-
I’m walking on
sand of love
without a soul mate,
on sea side of love
I lie-just alone.

On top tree of friendship,
I mount without companion,
on edge of cliff-I stay-
reciting love song-
and no one to dance.

In the wild-I see animals-
in twos
but I’m alone,
in woodland-I see lovers-
holding hands,
but no one to hold.

I see them showing
no one to show me
Basket of love!
When will thou become
basket of companionship?

Read Poem: Nature’s Creation By Lucy Caxton Brown

Now I’d like to pay tribute, if I may,

To nature’s God, And dare I say,

The wooden forests and grassy fields,

I’m talking of the rocky outcrops,

Beyond those treeless hills,

I’m watching the changing colors,

And the wide sky as it sweeps,

Sun striking golden beams

Upon the river, as it rests,

Where green pungent moss grows

And into this array of nests

The transient life-form blows

Yes, the clouds come,

And of course, they go too!

Some extremely fast,

Some really slow; Phew!

But when I cast my eyes below,

I can see all around,

All around you know!

Look how full of life,

The majesty of our creation,

There I go again,

Don’t marvel at what I said,

I’m talking silly in my head.

I mean to say of course,

The full majesty of natures creating,

Now that truly is what’s so amazing!

Taken from The Small Book Of Poems by Lucy Caxton Brown

Read Poem: Halfway up the Hill by Jeff Hartzer

A giant hawk screams warning
I whistle back
then the dog barks
then the Volkswagen
lies dead in the woods
right there
It happens that way
on Sundays
out walking with God
Then the Volkswagen
lies smashed and dead
papers scattered across the straw
windshields blasted away
And I sit
where it sits
Still as death
while my dog walks close
and sniffs and barks
And the sun warms my back
on an October Sunday
when leaves are crimson
more bright than the dead
My life is filled with symbols
and signs
like the dream of thumbs and fingers
Mimi says I need to be touched
Yes I say
Touch me
all you people
Touch me
and my heart will shatter open
like this broken windshield
so very still
so right with the world
And how in the hell did this
stolen heart of a Volkswagen
get up this hill halfway
to this place here
to be dumped lifeless
in the woods
And what’s in it for me
where is the sign
what does it all mean
And where’d that hawk go?

Jeff Hartzer copyright 1984,2018

Read Poem: MINE, YOURS, A MOTHER’S HATE by Niki Bell

There is no equal to or greater than
A Mother’s Love
Safety and Protection
Let us understand what it is first, not last
A lioness
There is no greater gift
Or symbolic universal feeling of connection
The harmonic bond of such love
Is a Mother’s Love
The Beatles song playing in the background at the coffee shop
The little girl looking up with wonder at her
The older version of herself
A Mother’s Prayer that she will be greater than herself
It is not the birthing and carrying of the child
Where such motherly love may be developed
It is who she is before
That determines everything after
And in the coming events of life she gives
Unconditional love
She reigns over all
Ruling one’s world of seven serpent heads
If such love comes after one enters this world
That is sometimes not okay
Accident or mistake has no bearing on the consciousness of that child
The child only knows love
The mother sends the serpents and demons away,
Love overcomes all.
A mother’s love is the evolution of where still water lies
Purely defined from all corners of the cosmos
The child only knows the fabric of her mother’s nightgown
The beautiful motherly smells
The child, you, me do not know poverty
From her womb
Anger, fearfulness, drunken rages,
Nor Hate.

When love is not valuable
Love, is not shared nor a continuing dialogue
When at eight years old you are blamed for sleeping with her boyfriend
Bleeding on the bed
Unable to go to the hospital because there is no insurance
For the swore tore worn soul of this child
When the love you wish would come oozing out of her
Even if it is infected like the open painful wound
Shooting white puss in all directions
At the center divide of your jammed toe
As you stumbled over the drugs
Over the bodies laying in the apartment
Fast forward
Head down in the toilet as you were tortured and beaten
Over and over again
My life not yours, Your life not mine
No pain comparison
We are women now reflecting in hindsight
Making the decisiveness absolute
To either Be Hate or Be Love
And therefore, Loved By Oneself deeper than the ocean floor
Stirring storms of magnitude greater than the rising of any hurricane,
Reaching for the stars that you cannot begin to embellish
That we cannot begin to imagine
Going above and beyond the call of duty
Only being able to give ourselves that love
That love that was never ours
Taken, stolen by madness
And the coldness of a mother’s heart
To be defiled, ridiculed, harassed, abused
To have violent acts committed against us
Because we looked like daddy’s side
Because we were more beautiful or not as pretty
Because we were so smart
Because we are fat
She always exclaimed
Because we made mistakes in relationships,
Oh, but she made none
The cold of the Antarctica swoops in
To live in devastation has nothing to do with materials,
Having a home, a roof over one’s head
Having food,
For I would have given anything to know my mother’s love
Not a mother’s right because of entitlement
A true mother’s love.
Never mirrors self-hate
I would have given my life to know what that felt like
And you, a reflection of me
Sit and you read this
You think it is okay to be treated as you are
It is not
You are not trash
You are love
You are my hero
Because you have survived
Sometimes without will
Without sight
Without hope
Without dreams
And you have come to this place
Wake up!
To finally know that something is not right
Please wake up!
All the times she took their side
As they raped you
The weary never sleeps
All the times they hurt you,
Where sleeping dogs lie
And she stood there and watched
We, the animals
Caged and imprisoned
Waiting to sing.
Even if she was not, so she says, was there
She was knowingly there.
Because who you are now
Is not that
You are not the little girl
They kidnapped or tried to kill
You are not the little girl that daddy put on his lap
You are not the teenager who gave her body to whoever knocked
You are no longer the woman who gave up on her children
I say, it is never too late to accept your part without self-blame and break away
Because you know right from wrong
What was done to you
Cannot be done to them
Nor can it be undone.
When you have love from the soul of your stomach
From your gut,
From the bleeding of the inside of your organs
Ready to shut down
When you have love
From yourself
Beyond a reasonable doubt
Because no one has ever shown up for you
A crime in and of itself
I have witnessed time and time again
But they stand there
Waiting for you to fail.
As you rise
You know that you must have love for and from yourself
Despite the magnetic radiation that attracts such hate to you
In every situation and relationship
They fail you
When you have that love coming from you and only you
You begin to awaken to a newfound reality
You begin to move, you, yourself, and I.
I and him and him and they
Yes, they suffer too.
I cannot speak for him or them.
It is my calling to speak on the mother’s and daughters who are lost
The daughters’ who had no voice
Who feel they still have no voice
To voice their truth
To stand up against the niceness that everyone else sees their mother’s as having
To stand up and be mentally strong
To stand up and cry out the power of love
To stand up and demand by men to be treated like a human being
To stand up and tell your horrible friends that if you cannot love me
It is because you cannot be me
Nor do you love yourself.
I may have emotional down syndrome
Because of my Mother’s Eyes of Hate
Ripped me into tiny pieces smaller than an atom
I barely have built myself up to a stand alone molecule
And that is okay.
I am no longer her victim
I appreciate the life that was given to me
I appreciate my mother’s eyes of hate
I appreciate hearing it said from her lips, “I hate her”
In my late twenties,
I appreciate the verbal condemnation, the lack of respect
I appreciate the raping’s of my body and soul as a child and as an adult,
Never ending.
I appreciate her beating me as he gutted me then zipped his pants as she walked in
Pretending to have seen nothing at age two.
I forgive
Age ten
I am grateful
I am more than just a survivor
At thirteen
I am more than just a child
I am more than just a female
I am more than tragedy
I am more than my stories
Age sixteen
I am more than a Cosmic Being
I am more than Hate
Age seventeen
I am Somebody
I am Me
I am Love
I am Worthy
I am Deserving
I am Love
I am my own Hero
I am a Mother who loves.
I lost my way… so busy loving them.
I rather fail, fall, and try at love than for them to know that past which does not describe me
Or have a bearing on NOW.
I will not ever understand a mother’s hate
Regardless of mental illness or any excuse
There is no reason and no room in this universe
For Mother’s who hate their daughters
There is no crime committed
Only soulful injustice
But, it haunts us, you and I
In the thick of the night
We cannot shake the feeling
It will haunt us for the rest of our lives
If we are still in it,
We feel there is no escape.
There is…
It is called love, not hate
Love is your faith
It will set you free
It comes from you and to you
Do not believe in that which serves you no purpose
Allow yourself to release your inner turmoil
Free you yourself
Because your imprisonment
Will be the death of you
I need to love me
I need you to love you
Because she could not
Your spirit is old and tired
Your heart a closed soldier
You not loving you is the biggest and most heinous crime you could ever commit.
Please stop!
Love, love, love, love, love,
I love you.
Said to myself, and for myself, by me…
I am a woman who has…
A woman who has overcome her mother’s hate
A mother who only loves her children
A female who has mastered the heart of loving life
A goddess who arises with the sun and dances within the moon
A human being who is conquering everything in this lifetime
without support, love from others,
And moving mountains all on her own
They say you cannot do it alone
I fear for those who cannot
Shunning independent thought
With earth shattering crystal clearness of believing in the love within me
I am a single matter co-existing amongst all that matters

A Mother’s hatred is true
Shame on you for propagating that it is not
In order to make yourself feel better
Oh, it is so true
We grow to fear nothing
Or become so weak we cannot stand.
Even being here is not enough
Speak your truth into reality
But, speak of love
Speak with love
Speak with forgiveness
Speak with peace
Speak with inner fortitude
Speak with your mindfulness
Speak of a better place
A better world
Where all mother’s love their daughters
Speak with a gentleness that you never imagined you possessed
And then listen…
Listen to your love!
It is so breathtaking and amazing!
When you journey into the unknown
You will come back, but not to that
Therefore, your only remaining option is to love
And learn to love her, my mother,
Your mother,
For they could not love themselves.
For you gave me life mother
But, you will not taketh away.
I see your misery
And I love you more
Even though you could not love me.
Mine, Your, A Mother’s Hate cannot stop you or me from loving.
Because I believe in Love.
I believe in me.
Thank you for all of this
For every victory and every challenge.
Mine, Your, A Mother’s Hate cannot stop me or you from living,
Cannot stop you from Achieving.
Be gentle with yourself and come from a place of love

I began my life in a hate filled world where only pain existed
I end this moment with my life in a nirvana love filled world
That I created
With smiles of joy, laughter, and love,
Where only love exists.

Copyright © 2018 Niki Bell

Read Poem: Egypt’s Shifting Sands by Helen Whitten

I’ve stood in Tahrir Square,
felt the dusty heat,
done deals on street corners
with scruffy boys
adept at currency arithmetic,
seen the Pyramids at sunset
after the inevitable visit to a papyrus shop,

taken a horse
into the desolate desert at dusk,
just me and a stranger,
hoof meeting sand at speed,
watched a solitary camel rider leering up
like a mirage from the tombs,
grabbing at my reins,
his smile lecherous as a snake.
The Sphinx watched it all.

And Tahrir Square that spring
was full of banners,
no Pharoah there,
no Rameses nor Akhenaton,
just families gathering,
and a herd of colts
kicking their heels,
booting out the old folk.

Danton and Havel
on ghostly watch
as a velvet wave upturns
the status quo along
the banks of the glittering Nile,
centuries of despotic old men’s decrees
unravelling like papyrus
from Tunisia to Syria.

Today, parched bones of camels
lie in dust hollows,
beside the looters’ tunnels,
where antiquities feed
a desperate generation
in the land where
few tourists go.
Horses stand in starving heat.
Young boys despair
of providing sustenance
for ailing parents or sisters,
as tombs are raided
and dynamited
below his feet.

Money changes hands
in the brotherhood of power,
A journalist risks her life
to tell the story,
as the cabal watch
and shoot at her car
to silence her.

What scrolls will be written
in the blood-red desert
of history’s graveyard
alongside the Pharoahs’ beasts
and treasures?
The Sphinx watches and waits.