Read Poem: LONG-DISTANCE LOVE, by Catarina César

Last night, I opened a door to
another room of the house. There, I
found a man.

A man that wasn’t there.

The risk, the error,

the mourning sorrow,
the horror, the terror,
the lifeless hollow.
Will I be there, to be born,
entirely, in a new morrow?
Ambiguous life, stained in an empty
memory. Hunting the shadows of my
thoughts consuming the nights and
days across.

The minute that won’t follow, the
myth ‘n the confusion of this mellow,
the unknown, the prison… my only

Trapped inside dreams,
I, myself, could not bear,
while digging a lost place throughout
the fragments of my space.
My soul slips away,
looking for a dream to return,
a place to belong.
Shall I ever see the light in your
eyes one day?

He is neither moving nor stagnant.
Not alive nor dead. Neither closed
nor far. Not tired nor resting. He is
timeless, and time itself.
Together, we lived many lives, and we
are also living many lives in this
life. When the stars stop shining,
and the world stops spinning. When
everything turns dead, and death
awakes us. We might then stop being
together, alone, and alone forever.
Embedded in ourselves, until life
stop screaming at us for not doing
what it is meant to be. Not living,
not see, not pursuing, not building,
not be.

“Be nothing”, I shall say! Then you
will know what ’tis to exist and not
to exist, inside me.

– By Catarina César (Portugal).
Dedicated to Zervell Chicas.

Read Poetry: STEAMING CUP, WAUKESHA, by Nivedita N.

The Steaming Cup of Coffee.
Brewed with a sense of history.
served with a frothy dash of
Syllables to write a new story.

The Steaming Cup of Coffee.
Table for two. Table for Three.
With neatly carved chairs
that craft the narrative of your story.

The Steaming Cup of Coffee.
In a lane of Waukesha
Opposite the Public Library
Where words often meet poetry

Read Poem: A Song for my Mother, by Ed Munter

Her rivers run like blood in my veins.

Her forests breathe out the air that I breathe.

I walk through her fields and sense her body beneath.

Her soil. My skin.

Her oceans. My soul.

In the changing of her seasons,

my life unfolds in cycles, spinning around the sun.

She feeds me. She nurtures me.

She gives me life.

And I have betrayed her.

Take me back to your garden. Forgive me.

Let me rest in your fields.

Let me swim in your sea.

You are my ancient memory,

before I had a name or a face.

My earliest ancestor,

my deepest connection,

my birthplace.

I am a seed of your flower,

released by your blossoming,

carried by the wind,

to rest in this sacred ground.



My home. My planet.

My Mother. Myself.

Read Poem: Crann Bethadh Song Messengers, by R.L. Stephenson-Read

We embrace our Celtic ancestry
For that same time runs nigh
And seek the mystery from the Lake of Small Stones
Of a lost, ancient tribe’s practice.
Those magical Druid Holies droned, “Beannachtaí Dé”
In their sacred, Oaken Groves
And planted low-frequency seeds in spring
That one day gloriously sprang-forth, Heaven-ward.

Then you, yourselves sang glad, summer tidings
And on Samhain, lifted grateful shouts in harvest celebration
Finally, settling into hibernation with winter’s lullaby,
While Fortkind from the mouths of poet-bards
Whispered healing words of restoration
An effort of preservation to
Slow-down aging
And retain energy and life force
In unison with dolmen, stone circles;
Linked a perfectly-honed craft
Of fractal geometry,
Dependent on the majestic spruce to harness
Compressed charge.

Even now, your sacred altar of boughs and leaves
“Raises a Sham unto the Lord”
That naturally emanates joyful reverence
And encourages grace among a fellowship of fir, evergreen and nut.

Oh, Tree of Life, ever-present around the world
Primordial life, you are the most natural form of medicine
Available to us to journey toward Creator.
Please invite us into your inner body,
To transport us higher with purest intentions and awareness
And allow us to sit beneath your canopy of protection
To enjoy the splendour of your animated foliage
Or soft, sweet needles of pine
And voice a melodic cant
Praising the beauty of yew.

You encourage the wounded with loving airs
As rings outward gather to steadfast the cedar
And dream-scape a new world; of tribesmen awakened
To the fulfillment of One-ness with all who dwell in the Garden
We stewards are called together
To encircle you with thanks; our murmured hymns
Summon the wisdom of the ancients; the purpose
To build a sanctity of inner fortitude,
Which when united, we share in melodious harmony…
Slainte Mhath go Deo!

Written by RL Read, Bandruí on a mission from God
© Aye Lighthouse Productions, April 25, 2021.

Read Poem: Four Days, by Les Bill Gates

Remember me?
You betrayed me today.
With a kiss, you showed them the way
And collected thirty silver coins.
You whipped me and mocked me.
You crowned me with thorns.
So grovel in the dirt, pick up your pay.
You betrayed me today.

Remember me?
You killed me today.
You sent me to the cross, then washed your hands
And set the murderer free.
You cursed and mocked me and made me a joke,
You threw dice for my cloak.
As the curtain was rent, night replaced day.
You killed me today.

Remember me?
You mourned for me today.
You pronounced me dead, laid me in the tomb,
And sealed it with a stone.
Though you denied you knew me, you still had hope
That death would have no hold on the Son of God;
To the Father there could be no other way.
You mourned for me today.

Remember me?
I rose for you today.
The stone rolled back, the tomb was bare,
There was no one there.
I died in your place, so your sins could be forgiven.
I defeated death, so you could go on living.
With my blood, your sins were washed away.
I rose for you today

Read Poetry: Eyes, by Shivani Mehra

I have felt the most rushed through eyes.
Vulnerable, yet still, eyes.
With a language unspoken,
writing feelings unknown.

I have seen ugly truths and lies,
Ugly hearts and minds.
It almost ambiguous to find,
how haven’t I seen an ugly pair of eyes.

How they etch so deep,
that I always tend to leap,
bringing my soul to shore,
laying my kingdom to the floor.

Nothing purer than eyes,
Nothing stronger than eyes,
Nothing weaker than eyes.

This is my WordPress:
And Instagram:

Read Poem: 15 AN HOUR, by Collin Chute

you set your tray down
at the office cafeteria table
the one where the fluorescent light
is burned out above
for your spaghetti
is already, overdone

you bend down to sit,
but quickly spring up
and shuffle on to the vending machine

you need something lime green today
maybe highlighter blue
chalk full of caffeine,
and those sweet sweet chemicals,
to get you through the maze

you slide a dollar inside
the serpent’s slit
as it slithers it up,
and spits out your trash bill

too wrinkly
for a pallet this refined
you try to iron it,
with the palms of your hands
which read no fortune

as flush as you can get it
straight and narrow,
you feed it through
but this time it bites you

you let out a scream
only two or three heads turn
they already think you’re weird
you slip a 20 in there,
maybe that will open up a bitch

oh yeah
that’s doing it
come to da da

you can hear the belly of the beast
conjuring up a plastic vial
full of liquid fuel
cha ching!

you bend down to grab it,
and someone slaps your ass
you look around
for the clown

could have been Ted,
or Bill, or Jimmy,
maybe even Moe

definitely not Kathleen
you really wish it was Kathleen

hey what the hell?
this is a regular cola
generic brand
no label on it
they removed it because of racism
or more like the fear of being racist
or more like money

where the hell is my god damn change?
what the fuck?
are you kidding me?
I gave this thing a 20

you start to press all the buttons
with your overgrown nails
to no avail
you pound on the fat with your fists
and give the machine a kick

you cuss this mother out
all the heads are tuned in now
it’s your show baby
let em’ have it

you got him on the ropes
he’ll be down for the count in no time

you climb on top
so you can put the man down

you feed him every day
but he never gives you what you need

you slam your fists
and try to pry off the top

you take your shirt off
and start to cry

your boss walks in
he picks up your spaghetti
he starts to eat it as he walks over to you
slowly you look up
ragu all over his jaw

whatcha doing up there buddy?

I’m trying to make sense of it all

well we can’t have that now

but it ate my 20 and gave me regular cola

your boss finishes your pasta
and thinks about something unrelated

he pulls out a cigarette
blows some smoke in your face

just staring at you

you look like a monkey up there
he says with a grin

that was my pasta

well you won’t be needing it. Bill…

Bill the janitor comes over and pulls out his gun
he drops it but it doesn’t go off
everyone laughs, even you,
you wipe a tear off your face

he picks it up and your boss,
pats him on the shoulder
put it where I like it

Bill chuckles
and shoots you between the eyes

ragu. everywhere.

just about everyone looks up
but no-one stops eating

your boss pulls out a key,
opens up the vending machine
and puts your $20 bill in his front pocket

Read Poem: For The Children by Devan Gavin

So much to look for in a world of madness
So little to die for in a life of sadness
So much to change for the sake of tomorrow
So much red tape guiding people to sorrow

Where is the future you promised your children?
Why are there fires in buildings they’ve lived in?
Why is it unsafe that they walk down the streets
That you build for their lifelong lovers to meet?

You’ve sold it and them, and the worst is you know it
All for your own future, and for that, you destroyed it
So pray that the children will live for tomorrow
That’s all you can offer when you leave them with sorrow

Read Poem: Down On The Old River Road by Henry Capps

Henry Capps
Capps and Bolt Publishing

She lit a cigarette
As she revved up her vet
Down on the Old River Road

She said Hey come on hon’
I hate to spoil the fun
But it’s getting late and I’ve got to run

She re-brushed her hair
Put some fresh make-up on
Got to be looking right when she gets home

She gave a good-bye kiss to him
And then swore to meet again
Down on the Old River Road

Midnight was near when she hit second gear
Down on the Old River Road
The fog was settlin’ in
As she made the first bend
Weaving through the cattails and the pines

The curves where hairpin
A possum was dangling from the limb
And the cottonmouth was watching from the vines

The precious seconds flashed
From the clock on the dash
Down on the Old River Road

Take it easy Cinderella
In your coach of chrome and steel
With your 500 horses racing ‘neath the wheel

Like your fairy tale sister you are out on borrowed time
And come that the stroke of midnight
It’s back to the same on old grind.

The Engine was full bore
When she passed Gibson store
Down on the Old River Road

With a hundred proof nerve
She braked, slid and swerved
She cat and moused this game before
But somewhere between Cabbage Grove and 919
The hands of fate evened up the score.

Now the whirling blue lights
And the sirens filled the night
Down on the Old River Road

So good night sweet Cinderella
In your coach of chrome and steel
With your 500 horses silent ‘neath the wheel

Like your fairy tale sister
You were running way behind
And at that stroke of midnight
You just ran out of time

All of you good time Cinderellas
With an eye for the fellas
Don’t you party ‘til the rooster has crowed
Black waters deep
The gators never sleep
Down on the Old River Road

Read Poem: 5 minutes close to death

I have loved and lost someone

But that someone found love in someone else

I tried to move on

But my heart keeps sticking with him

I loved too hard for him

Damn I want to die

Time to say Goodbye

7 in the morning I wake up

I think of ways to die

To end my life

Leave a suicide note or say my last goodbyes to my mom

No rope in the basement for me to hang around my neck

Tried to pop some pills to ease me down

Dear Devil drag me down with you!

My life is already drowned

There’s a razor in mom’s bedroom

Time to cut the skin open

One slice, cut

Let it bleed

Bleed and Bleed More

Am I there?

I was so close

Almost made it there

I’m not scared

I don’t really care

I was close to the final destination of my life

I only have 5 minutes

Am I there?

Did I make it?

Not even close

I’m still alive

Why? Am I still here

My moms is in tears

She is screaming at me, “Why! Why!”

Time’s up! It’s too late

I had only 5 minutes

I’m not dead