Read Poem: PAINTED WORLDS IN COVID TIMES, by Patricia Tiffany Morris

Proverbial towels weren’t allowed
In fifth period art class rules.
My sixth-grade teacher rarely smiled.
His firm but gentle voice
taught me to search my world
for excellence in life.
He led my class through narrow halls
toward hope at Mrs. Turner’s studio.

Art unveiled a world of promise
and my imagination soared.
We practiced all the fine techniques
and found new ways to cope
through art around the world.
To try again and strive
until we found our style—our voice—
until we faced the hurts that hid inside.

Perhaps that’s why I liked the world
of happy painting with Bob Ross.
The beauty in his little world,
His peaceful unmasked smile,
brought tools to carve my world,
not hide my scars within.
I feared the secrets and my tears.
It’s clear, gray shadows cloaked my childhood home.

And then I saw Christina’s world.
Distressed, she beckoned me to hope.
Bright sun-kissed meadows doused in rain
stirred freedom to create.
I climbed inside her world
of courage to escape.
Such brave attempts to claw at graves.
Unmasked, I struggled with the painting’s truth.

That’s when I found familiar roads
that led to sanctuary friends.
And healing flowed like mountain streams
as melancholy rose
inside this tumbling world.
Would staying home bring light?
I tore again at rusty chains.
Confused I searched and fought for something more.

My throat scraped thin and cries unheard,
at least that’s what I thought of God.
The mirror of my youth lay fogged
Yet present day was bleak.
The ugly muted world
The sadness and disease.
Should fear or dread define this time?
This year perplexed my heart weighed Covid’s threat.

My arms grew tired of mad debate
To wear a mask or hide away.
But light broke through the storm online
God’s love poured down like rain
And offered me His world.
Argument garnered rest.
Hope showered me and buried fear.
Rejoice! I welcomed peace. My faith increased.

Now, I look back into the past
at all the times I painted worlds.
Did Wyeth know his art could heal?
I drew a breath and sighed.
Dear Wyeth’s hand designed his world,
but Jesus found my voice.
His healing saturates my life,
My choice as God brings art to shine through me.

Read Poem: UNLOVED, by Arlene Lagos

Everything I felt inside,
behind tall walls where I would hide
decades of pain, in which I try,
to wish away, forget, deny
Became a storm so dark and hollow,
where no one ever dared to follow
It came at once, a flood of years,
blasting out a million tears
My core it shook, my mind thrice rattled,
of demons unearthed from centuries long battle
With breath that quickened, chest impaled,
rage and sadness doth prevailed
My heart had stopped, my eyes unclear
Pain itself had rested here
No sword or shield, yet still I tried
To muster up a last goodbye
Clenched tight fists, I stumbled through
The absence of love that I named…you.

Read Poem by Terri Ewton 

Science has proven that Energy is merely transformed.

Everyone makes the transition of being transformed into the next energy….sustaining Life and Death….the Neverending Circle. A cycle, similar to the science of the rain cycle or the seasons. Souls come down to Earth as babes and cycle out via Polihale. Souls lighter than air; as wind or condescension is to a cloud. Souls drift effortlessly back into the arms of The Source of All Creation and cycle down again, like rain, once the time is right….& so the cycle of Life and Death continues….Ever a journey, not a destination…Lifetimes learning the lessons of Love

Read Poem: THE FIRST GOODBYE, by Axel Frühmann 

I seize the day with you, my child
I’d like to stay with you for a while
But there’s work to be done
And I’ll be gone today

I’d find the words if they flew on by
I’d catch and throw them to you, I’d try
Yeah, you know that I would,
but now… it’s time

I can’t wait for better days
I was always built for the chase
I’m the one who lives on trains

I can’t sit and wait for peace
You’ll be fine at the home, you’ll see
Eat their toast and drink their tea

I seize the day with you, my girl
We seemed to flow with our balloons
Holding hands in the haunted house
Oh, today went by too soon

Shush now, when the morrow comes
You’ll find times in yesterday
All these memories and plays
Oh, not a waste among them

I can’t wait for better days
I was always built for the chase
I’m the one who lives on trains
I can’t sit and wait for peace
You’ll be fine at the home, you’ll see
Eat their toast and drink their tea

We were meant to be together
Meant to stay this way forever
But the train will say goodbye.
Now, the tracks may lead wherever
And I’ll see you… maybe never
Know my heart’s yours as yours-is

Read Poem: NAME, by Nick Kontsalakis

In the wind I see the whisper of a name I cannot feel. A name I grasp to notice a name to help
me heal. It moves beyond my touch it seems so far today. The whisper becomes faint, I fear it
goes away.

In the rain I hear a teardrop built on lies and shame. It falls in pools of loneliness it cannot see
the name. Drifting in an emptiness other teardrops speak. None can taste the whisper of the
name they always seek.

In the storm I build a shelter, a haven from the pain. Tears seeping through the cracks spelling
out the name. The name I need to make me whole, the one I cannot read. The one name that
can save my soul, the only one I need.

In the tempest I sense an answer to everything in life. Within it bitter teardrops cut deeper than a
knife. I’m far too lost and broken the name I cannot see. But if I chase the fleeting whisper it
might come back to me.

Read Poem: A SHATTERED GRAVE, by Peyton Hawkins 

A shattered grave
Left stand still
Vulnerable to wind
Yet impervious to time

Forever it remains
A reminder it contains
Of a mistake long forgotten
Heeding a misled sign

The bountiful soul
Walked the edge of night and day
Why be joyful
When affected by the fray?

The same grave
The same lesson
The same soul
All inward aggression

Mercurial pretending and
Unsatisfying endings
Surround wells of
Depression who
Many deem ‘natural’

Not a seeking light
May shine so bright
To rid of the broken decay
Forever the pieces will lay

Allowing such tomfoolery to pass
Would be quite the sin
If we stopped to think through
The thick and thin

A shattered grave

Read Poem: OCEAN OF LOVE, by Anku Parashar

You are ocean of love ,
And I am a thirsty bird !
You never end ,
And I am going to drink !!

You filled with salty water ,
And I sinking like a boat !
You never refuse ,
And I am going to live !!

You remain silent ,
And I can not live !
You make the waves Sharp ,
And now I can’t even drown !!

I am a thirsty bird ,
And you are the ocean of love !
I am going to drink ,
And you never end !!

Read Poem: TWO PEOPLE, by Kelly Sisco

Please forgive me for this fight, which we are about to have. Please understand that fighting sometimes is just what we do. No need to get all upset cause this to shall pass. Pass away like every one of our other fights. No good and no fun is all of this. In fact, it’s terrible that we work ourselves all up and things come to this. I love you very much and I love you too just the same. Why raise your voice and get all nasty sounding? Why do a lot of things that we do? Does all this make any bit of sense or are we simply used to this routine. Come and listen to a fight between two people that really truly do love each other but can’t seem to get it right. Get it right this time, get it right maybe the next time after that. To get it right because we are two people who really do truly love each other until the end or until this fights kills us. Leaving nothing left but two people who truly did once love each other but the fight killed them.

Read Poem: AMERICA, by John Arnau

Please don’t take the commercials off T.V. Yeah, 9-11 scared the hell out of me, so did January 6, 2021 with all those crazy white people from Wyoming and Alabama in their red baseball caps. But don’t take away my commercials. The potato chips, the very soft toilet paper, the new insurance companies, the wonderfully named drugs with their rare yet freakish side effects, please, please, don’t take them away from me. It would be more than I can bear. After all, I’m an American and the commercials, well, they are America.

Read Poem: little mountain peaking high, by Megan Milo

little mountain peeking high
‘bove the clouds we see at night.
how long have you been up high,
will you grow up past the sky?

when you peak do you get to peek
at what the future has in store?
will i always ask my own life
to give me days with so much more?

there was a time i felt alive
but now i float, anxious heaving
with the sorrows of goodbye.
each moment holds unsteady breathing.

things released from my own grip
will i ever touch a new lip
i was once everything i wanted to be
now the world feels crashing under me.

little mountain peeking high
did you see how much i’d cry?
the peak has peaked i don’t know why
the moments i flew i was so spry.

time keeps passing
i wanted to change it
i think maybe now
i no longer can blame it.

for a moment everything was falling
avalanche was my name for calling
seeing my reflection clear
i don’t think i want to dance with fear.

seeing right and being loved
makes the days feel far more scrubbed.
if i see myself through cloud
maybe mountain won’t seem so loud.

goals and trophies seemed so fleeting,
now i’m focused on my eating.
i think i knew who i wanted to be,
but now my soul’s in front of me.

little mountain stretching by
god it’s nice to say goodbye.
the peak i’ve peeked seems not so high,
a taller one is rising nigh.