Author: poetryfest

Drawn by hype I raced
to a planned encounter,
with a pony-tailed wayfarer,
who dragged a rake,
through virgin sand.

His native motifs,
scratched on low tide’s grainy canvas,
received no accolades,
drew no crowds,
just me.

The artist, indifferent,
I, disappointed and duped, retreat—
contemplating another gallery,
another day.

But, there!

Lithely swaying sea oat brushes
hold tiny droplets of orange pigment.

On wings of softest parchment,
droplets float silently from brush to brush,
barely touching the canvas,
like weightless ballerinas moving from partner to partner,
unbound by morning sky…
The monarchs fly!

One solitary artist
drew me to a chance encounter
in a random studio
nestled in the dunes.

And the masterpiece!

I gave you a home,
patched the cracks where others had broken you,
fed you love like it was bread,
like hunger could be starved out of a person.

You said you were sorry.
You said you were done chasing ghosts,
but I heard the whispers,
saw the way your phone lit up
like a lighthouse in the dark.
And I knew.

Did he feel like silk?
Did he taste like freedom?
Was he softer, warmer—
did he call you by names
that didn’t carry my weight?

I was never enough, was I?
Not when I bled for you,
not when I forgave you,
not when I called your son my own.

You took everything.
Every damn thing.
And left me with the hollowed-out shell of a man
too tired to start over.

So, I ended it.
Not in rage—no, rage is quick and sloppy.
I ended it with the same steady hands
that once traced your spine
and built a life around you.

Now you are mine,
in the only way that lasts.

Forever.

I’ll wear black before I wear white
It’s all mourning until then
Grief
Blended with the night
Veiled
I’ll swim in the darkness
Prior to glory in the light
Nothing’s nothing about anything without you
Itching at my wrists
Biting at my lips
Blood
Subtle gestures at my hips
Curtsy to kings and queens for aisle’s sake
A grocery store aisle with red carpeting
Attending
Operas
Slippers missing
Spindle spellbound and sleeping
Doe prancing, ballerinas, and sugarplum fairies
I’ll wear black before I wear white.
Adam and Eve stayed together even after exile…

As you’re already aware…
…I’m on a one-way trip.

I’ve been on this journey
For over a year now.
In the end,
It’s just you and your convictions.

I believed Miller,
Every word he said.
He was finally happy,
Finally at peace.

He described contact with a highly-advanced civilization.
Said they knew how to make it all go away —
Every trouble, every sorrow.

Nobody believed him,
And I’ll never know why.

Human nature, I guess?
If it sounds too good to be true,
It probably is.

But I believed Miller.
And my faith was rewarded,
When he sent me,
And only me,
Instructions on how to reach them.

Miller lost his father to alcoholism,
His mother to suicide,
His wife and child to a horrible accident.

He was a deeply religious man.
After all he’d been through,
Who wouldn’t take a leap like this?

And so, I chose to follow in his footsteps.
Back on Earth, I was a corporate man.
The money was good, but everything has a price.

My soul couldn’t take it anymore.
They begged me not to go,
But there’s nothing left for me on Earth.

All that war and fighting,
Greed and famine,
Chaos and crime…
…I’d seen enough, had enough.

It’s not lost on me
That without money,
None of this would’ve been possible.
But all the money in the world
Couldn’t keep me there any longer.

Maybe I’ve been in denial,
Maybe I’m selfish,
But I left my fortune behind to charities.
Using the remainder for this journey.

It doesn’t matter what they do with the money.
It doesn’t make a difference now,
They can’t say my heart wasn’t in the right place.

Where I’m going,
At least I’ll still have everything.
And I’m not talking about material things either.

Can you imagine?

My excitement knows no bounds.
My parents are still alive.
My mother isn’t stressed out all the time,
My father isn’t holding onto his pain any longer,
My pet is still running around,
Living his best life.
Everyone’s happy,
Everyone’s at peace.

And most of all?
She’s still there too,
Just as I remember her,
But healed from all of it.
Pain, trauma, abuse,
Things she endured but never resolved,
Hurt that was there,
Long before my arrival.

It won’t be the same,
But I’m okay with that.
Because when I make contact with them,
Deep down I’ll know,
Just like Miller did.

They’ll free me from my pain,
My grief,
My suffering,
A trinity of torment that refuses to subside.

With their help,
I can build upon the memories
I refuse to let fade,
And I can revise those endless dreams,
Dreams that never came to pass.

Because I’ve finally accepted,
With all my heart…

…That the illusion will be enough.

I tell the big-shot mobster I believe in America
but its courts betrayed my belief so I’m desperate
to avenge the savagery suffered by my daughter.

I don’t tell the big-shot mobster I despise him
and his family and all his kind of sick psychos
for giving honest Italians like me a bad name.

I tell the big-shot mobster what he needs to hear.
I beg and bow and humble and humiliate myself
call him godfather and kiss his hand. Sell my soul.

I won’t ever tell the big-shot mobster the satisfaction
from our violent vengeance lasts merely a moment
but the sin of our evil will torture me to my grave.

Inspired by the opening scene of The Godfather (1972)

A sonnet by Susan Gallotti

White waves scurry, arrival elusive.
Smooth, bleached limestone hides dull space rock crater.
Intense sun glare blinding and intrusive.
A lone cloud wafts, the landscape’s curator.

Blue sea tiers sky in monochrome rainbow,
Clear water dissolves slate, sapphire, marine,
Turquoise stops breath, fades azure, indigo,
Mid-day sunset in plain view but unseen.

Green trees, all hues, overlapped and blending,
Protrude center mural tall as Redwoods,
Unmarred, erect with pride and unbending,
Guard the cape like a valiant knighthood.

Grey heart absorbs light; Warmth, calm, hope effuse.
As soothing palettes mute the lonely Bruce.

Feet buried into the bank of the lake
Water stews around me
As waves splash against my breast
I stare from the Indiana beach westward
As the sun dips behind the Sears Tower
Yellow rays of light streaked through the clouds
Brushstrokes stretching
across the scape of the water

My friend waded a few yards away
Savoring the water and playing mermaids
I turned back to the sun
And saltwater started forming in my eyes
I thought of my mother
And grief overtook me like the waves
Cresting on the coast

The sun had set on me
As it had on her life
So I enjoyed the last few minutes of light
Before the beach faded into darkness

The sun plays odd in sky today
And this I’m not sure how to take –
Pursue it, you could say I have;
I met him, and bore witness to
The break above such weary hills
As ever have been known to be:
They clung to warmth, and light, and lost
The battle, as they always had –
For me, he left their somber crowd
To paint horizon crimson gold;
Through amber mist, I almost saw
A chariot, as in the days
Of old they spun such vivid tales:
I thought to spin one of my own,
And yes! How wonderful a fate
If parting purple never need
Be shown again – a selfish prize,
I know, but human arrogance
Gives rise to novel fantasy,
And so I sought to take after
His dance, and pluck him from it, once
The music of the day had ceased;
And question if, within his will,
Or if it were within his strength,
At least, that he may not depart –
And so I’ve made a point to ask,
Though long days he eluded me,
In dark and mist and cloud, until
At last, when in the autumn chill
Bent low enough along his route
For me to reach his ear – and when
I posed my question, he replied,
“Look out – see all I’ve risen for,
And all whose limbs I’ve yet to light;
You’ll see then why I cannot stay.”
So I looked out, and to my soul’s
Delight found glow I hadn’t thought
Existed in a simple world;
The foxes stretched; the buttercup
Turned up its face and followed suit;
I whirled – for there behind me lay
The rocky shore at river’s end –
Such common stones, but even these
Were made to glint and stipple-shine
By tendrils from my captive’s breath;
And seeing then how many more
Would shrink and keel for want of such
A spell, I knew that things must stay
Before just as they were — and so,
With scarce a parting word, I let
Him go. Seeing I understood,
He grinned, and turned, and fell away

our absence took away my loneliness for it fell for you:

Your laughter filled the air, your voice carried the wind
Your jokes were never dry, and your quirkiness? Cherry-filled
Your presence like a heavy hammer always broke through my shell
Looking into your eyes was painful yet enduring—stars really are bright

Time was so slow when with you—then I realized, it couldn’t resist your beauty too
Whenever you were around, we enjoyed your company—loneliness and I
My heart would rip and bleed at every “goodbye” or “see you later”
But I never asked you not to leave—all because I always hoped you wanted to stay too

ark~

Bangladesh does not have specific laws or provisions which address the added vulnerabilities of socially excluded communities in relation to crimes of rape/sexual assault.”
– Equality Now

“To create a society where every child can grow up free from fear and violence, the interim government and all stakeholders need to take immediate and decisive actions to strengthen and invest in child protection systems.”
– Rana Flowers

I recall the streets of Dhaka,
my mother’s grip tightening
“Keep your head down,” she whispered
as we walked through the bazaar —
passing men who leered,
elongated shadows.
the silence that engulfed my fear.

Yet silence does no good

For an eight-year-old girl from Magura
who had to face a battle she never asked for
Sadly, had little chance in winning

People grieved and moved on

For a second grader in Sirajganj
For the ever rushing women
trying to make it back home
before the sun sleeps
Aggressively moving towards their home
as if there were no shadows by the wall

A nation that once shouted loudly
now chokes on its own cries
The streets drown in rage
Citizens stifle a final plea

The border of Dhaka, rumbling with unrest
But the ones in uniform stand still.
Hands idle. Eyes averted.
When did their duty turn to dust?

Mob justice is raging
Assailants roaming the streets
Their beatings persist
More names buried, more faces lost

294 lives lost in January
69% rise in robbery and mugging
Women’s voices are strangled

Yet the law sleeps

The fall of government
The fall of safety
Of dignity
Of broken promise
The crimes never stop
These losses of names and voices
Never stop

No more.

Let the streets tremble with our voices.
Let the courts open their ears
Let the police remember who they serve
And let no child, no girl, no woman,
Ever walk these streets
Afraid to exist