Poem: TOMORROW, by Phifer E. Howell

If I could see today a tomorrow of many years to come, would I see a world at peace where human beings care for all in times of need? Would I see a humanity that has overcome its selfish and indigent behavior? If I could see today a tomorrow of many years to come, would I see the beauty of the earth in all its grandeur? Would I breathe clean air and drink pure water? If I could see today a tomorrow of many years to come, would I see all who are different accepted and all who believe coexisting? Or, if I could see today a tomorrow of many years to come, would I see a world still entangled in hatred, bigotry, and the mistreatment of all citizens of the world?

I pray that today there are tomorrows of many years to come.

Phifer E. Howell

Poem: SAY TOMORROW, by Ileana Andrea Gomez Gavinoser

Never MORE not to say will be today

Today That’s all there is to say Today will be tomorrow
the telescope without a compass
the swan song
the wet morning
the summer sun
the aqueous lamp

tremor
night without thought
TREE WITH BARELY A FLOWER

dromedary roots

CITY WITHOUT DOGMAS AND WITH STARS
NEVER SAY MORE IS GOOD FOR YOU

say perhaps tomorrow a whisper a murmur of clawed walls

BETTER SAY TOMORROW

Ileana A.Gómez Gavinoser (2022)

Poem: Automn, by Fabrice Merrifiell

In the fading night
I glance peaceful in your sight.

The one who tomorrow,
will be gone towards another path with all this sorrow.

Your scent, like the aroma of these apples
brought me back to this autumn day with all those shackles.

Where each one put a point
as per what we knew about each other, nothing in joint, disjoint.

Like what resonates in the distance
The word tomorrow, with nonexistence.

@vibeshigh

Poem: We Are Human, by Sheena Diego

We do not become vultures feasting on carcasses,
We are not dust in the wind blowing away our existence for nothing,
We do not transmogrify to be just like witches,
Like a phoenix we rise and fall,
Grow into that beautiful soul.

We are not leeches lashing ourselves to the host,
We are not parasites feeding from innocent bystander,
We are human,
We have so much understanding and intellect,
We move mountains, we make rivers.

We are capable,
Of living peacefully with mother nature,
We always have a choice,
We fail or we prevail.

Poem: From Darkness to Light, by Anthony Young

I’ve walked in the darkness,
My soul was black, no light, you could’ve called me heartless!
Serenaded by the devil while his minions picked at my carcass!
I used to blame the fatherless raising as to why I never rose to the occasion,
Absolutely no self-check, spirits up to my neck, and God missing from the equation!
The devil knew how to seduce just by keeping me recluse,
He gave me the noose and I put it on my own neck and told HIM it was too loose!
I even tightened it, with my own lack of enlightenment and this childlike excitement
And all this happened because of a misalignment from my God’s chastisement.
See that’s what he does, he creates this chatter and buzz
To turn me away from God and make him my new plug!
But that’s not how it ends, why, because of Jesus my friend.
He was beat, hung, and stabbed in the side just to free me from sin.
One day I thought about his death and I had this epiphany.
He took the noise in my life and transformed it to a symphony.
No more walking in darkness, the devil can’t make me bow.
Y’all see the tats and the hats but God sees me now.
No more guilt and shame, no more walking in blame,
I’m staying strapped in my word because the devil knows my name
I know this, so I’m deadly, my walk has curves, but its steady.
I am made in his image no more pillage, why, cause I’m ready!
My soul is now bright, I have God in my sight,
I’ve abandoned the darkness, now I walk in the light!

Poem: don’t tell about love in this land, by Narjes Amin

At the dawn of the three hundred and eleventh moon in the starry sky of a small planet, named the planet of Short-hands, located in the last row of the Rainbow System, the mewling voice of a baby rose from the heart of a lotus-like ivy house.

Her name was three hundred and eleventh short-hands because she was the three hundred and eleventh Short-hand who was born on this planet. On this planet, all the houses were made of abundant ivies of lilies. The occupation of most of the inhabitants of the planet was nurturing fragrant and colorful petunias. For this reason, when one of the inhabitants of the Short-hands was lost in the Rainbow System, he could easily find his way back home from the fragrance of petunias and the colorful view of the planet. Three Planets, located near the planet of Shorthands, were the planet of Balloons, the planet of Roses, and the planet of Narcissi and Primroses. On the planet of Short-hands, the full moon only rose when a new baby was born on the same day. The moon would get close to the planet such that the newborn baby could remember her. And when he’d get a full glimpse of her in his eyes and heart, she’d smile on the child and gradually get away from the planet and disappear in the depth of the system. After the moon’s departure, numerous fireflies, shining in Petunias’ farm would illuminate everywhere because full moon nights happened rarely. There was an old legend saying that the inhabitants of this planet, who had long hands, were living together happily. They had everything, and the full moon would make the planet shine. But after a while, the greed of having more power took over the planet. And people realized that the secret to their power is within the moon. Finally, they trapped her one night and took her down from the sky. They tried to steal her light and power for their own but, as the moon shined less, their hands would become shorter, and they would lose more of their power.

Having realized their mistake and regretting their decision, they freed the moon …. Their moon went back to the sky but she was so heartbroken and sad that she left this planet’s sky forever and the people got punished. It was their punishment to always have shorter hands unless they’d do kind deeds to each other, and only then, their hand could grow longer with each of their act of kindness. For this reason, the moon gave them a second chance. If their hand would become long enough to hold the moon, she’d come back to their planet again. From then on, the moon on every baby’s birthday night would rise in their sky to inform them of this legend and tell them that they only had time until their next birthday. When the three hundred and eleventh Short-hand was born, most of the planet’s inhabitants’ hands were long or very long, because of living better and happier lives. They needed to be kind and help each other. But, the legend of reaching the moon was still a dream, and no one’s hands were long enough to reach the moon. The three hundred and eleventh Short-hand opened her eyes with this dream and decided to reach for the moon. She had to wait for three hundred and eleven days until her moon would rise up again. Thus, she had this much time left to try to be so kind and help others so that her hands could reach for the moon.

She started helping, sowed the seeds of petunia on the farm with the help of the inhabitants of the planet, and after they turned into the colorful petunias, they exported them to the other planets. She, every day, told stories to the children and sometimes appeared among the people with funny clothes and faces to amuse them. Her hands got so long that she could easily plant a hundred petunias in the flowerpot, and carry them in her hands. She helped old people, who were less capable or had shorter hands, and also helped the children with hands so short that couldn’t even reach their mouths. And she’d feed them from her own stash of food.

She explained the concept of being kind and helping one another to any adult who still had shorter hands and told them about the dream of the moon. The three hundred and eleventh day was close, and she was looking forward to the rise of her moon. However, she was worried that her hands weren’t long enough to reach the moon. She decided to go to the other planets as well and help them. But, she had only three days. She packed her travel equipment, circled her hands around herself, and departed for the planet of Narcissi and Primroses. The inhabitants of the Narcissi land dressed up in white woolen clothes, and the people of the Primroses’ land were in colorful and thin spring clothes. The people of the Narcissi and Primroses were in a war and arguing on their borders. The three hundred and eleventh long-hand approached them quickly and separated the two groups, and then, she asked the reason for the fight. One of the Narcissi’s inhabitants and one of the Primrose’s inhabitants came forward, and both said together: “they have encroached upon our border. This region is ours.” The Long-hand thought for a while and then said: “I can help you on one condition that you listen to my words, never get into another fight, and be kind to each other.” The inhabitants of the Narcissus and Primrose accepted. She stood on the border, passed one of her long hands from one side of the planet, and the other long hands from the other side until her hands met each other on the opposite side of the planet. The Long-hand said: “my right and left hands are equal in size. My hands have met each other on the other side of the planet. Report to your border guards there and ask them the location of where my hands met. If it is on the border, both of you have an equal share but, if it is on the land of anyone, it means that one of you has encroached upon the border, and he must return it. They accepted sent words to their border guards. The border guards reported that the Long-hand’s hands have touched each other on the border. The inhabitants regretted their behavior and apologized to each other. They thanked her and escorted her happily to the planet of Roses. She had
no more than two days. She entered the planet of Roses. Rose flowers were abundant with big and sharp thorns that the planet’s inhabitants weren’t able to eradicate. The Long-hand stayed for a full day there and helped them. Then, Rose’s inhabitants thanked her and escorted her happily to the planet of Balloons. The planet of Balloons was located among the three other planets, Roses, Narcissus and Primrose, and Long-hands. Due to having lots of balloons, it was likely that the wind blows the planet away at any moment. It was full of colorful balloons there,
and several guards were guarding the balloons and were busy inflating them. For any baby being born in the Rainbow System, the guards would inflate a balloon and raise them on the planet. Each of those balloons was the dreams and hopes of a newborn baby. Long-hand helped the guards inflate the balloons and raise them all day long. The moonrise was close, and she had to return to her planet. Her hands were so long that she could easily take her moon in her hands. She did not seem to feel her legs because she was jumping out of joy and was so excited as if she was
flying. She picked up her equipment and said goodbye to the guards. She had to hurry to arrive on time, but suddenly, the guards’ clamor of voices rose in screaming: help …, help, the children’s dreams. The Long-hand went toward them quickly. The wild giant bees had attacked a farm, and guards weren’t able to tackle them. The giant bee’s stinger could burst two balloons at once. These bees had come from the exiled planet of angry insects, from the depth of the Rainbow System. They probably had escaped from that planet, or the fragrance of the roses, Narcissi, and Primroses had drawn them here. Sabotage was so delightful for them that they would spend a lot of days on the planet, destroying all children’s hopes and dreams. The Long-hand dropped her equipment desperately. She was on the horns of a dilemma …, she didn’t have much time …, either saving the children’s dreams or her three-hundred-and-eleven-days dream … She had to decide. She soliloquized: “I have counted down three hundred and eleven days for this moment. This moonrise is my only chance.” She picked up her equipment and preceded a few steps. Her steps were as heavy as mountains. The shouts and clamors were getting louder and louder. Finally, she cast her equipment to a side and ran toward the guards. She circled her hands around all of the balloons several rounds. The Long-hand’s hands were wounded and swollen; the bees, suddenly, left and disappeared; The Long-hand fainted. She woke up after a few moments.

The inhabitants of the planets of Roses, Narcissus, and Primrose had scattered their nectar of flowers in the farthest point of the System for helping the Long-hand to draw bees to the other side. Bee’s failure of sabotage had caused them to walk away. This time, guards, all of the children, and the inhabitants of the planets were happy and thanking the Long-hand. But, her heart got broken. To thank her, they gave her a big dandelion so that she could get to her planet faster. She picked up her equipment and took the dandelion’s stem. The guards and children started
blowing dandelions away. The Long-hand returned to her planet, but the moon had nearly disappeared. Being so upset, she started watching her moon setting while her eyes became full of tears. Suddenly, her hands started getting longer and longer. Her hands got so long that as soon as she raised her hands to the sky, she could touch the moon. The moon got closer to the planet slowly again, and not only three hundred and eleventh Long-hand embraced her moon entirely, but also, the moon embraced her and turned her tears to happiness. That night was the only night that the moon rose twice, and the Long-hand realized her dream. Now, everybody believed in their dreams and was more kind. And all of the inhabitants of the Rainbow System told the story of the three hundred and eleventh Long-hand who got embraced by the moon for thousands of moonrises.

The end

Poem: Reprieve, by Mandy Sita

This gracious day of warmth
Abundant buds glow

Hints of prolific blossoms
Stretch towards this morning sun

Felines frolic the garden universe
Savoring a sunny roll in the earth

This outdoor empire exists indefinitely

The shoreline’s daily story exudes the reminder
Today, lulling, gentle

Peacocking swans parade their audacious and striking arcs
Kayakers and paddle boarders ready to glide, waiting

Relieved from the month-long plethora of midges
Pedals pulse, weaving through gentle pedestrians

Small families keeping distance
Obliging the two-meter rule

Some mask adorned, all wary
Like a line of obedient spaced out ants

We rejoice of a summer that will still come
Despite.

Finally, a reprieve.

Poem: 9/01/21, Texas, by Ruhani Chhabra

blasphemous, to be in charge
of your own flesh.

obey those
who will never carry the burden
that has been imposed
since the beginning of time—
six weeks, they generously offer,
to discover if the course
of your existence has been altered forever,
six weeks to pray for blood that will not come.

let their long black gowns,
slathered in patriarchal superiority,
dictate every inch of your body;
unwitting during conception,
unwilling during conception.

let the babies have babies;
tend to life as you barely start your own,
cradle a wailing child in one hand
and an algebra textbook in the other.

let labor drain you
of health and resources,
rip you apart until
nothing is left.

rue for those jane roes,
for the dismissals of their traumas,
their choiceless futures,
and their bodies rendered still—

let your cries be silenced,
and biblical destinies fulfilled,
value those feeble heartbeats
and the legislation that protects them
more than they protect you.

Poem: This is Yours, This is Mine, by Jena Ataras

The apple trees in Chicago are yours and so are the
codling moths.

And yours too, the clubs, with dusty shoes and sweaty
backs, and steamed- pressed linen for Sunday’s best.

The KKK Clan and “Sit in the Back Blacks” sign was yours
too.

The seashells in Little Rhody are mine and so are the
seagulls wailing for food.

And mine too, the sailing boats, the Doughboys and milk
bubbles still swirling with coffee syrup from a spoon.

The glistening spit in my hair that you braided that
morning and the “World’s Racist Jokes” read to me every
afternoon was mine too.

The gift of laughter was yours then mine.

The suffering you experienced was yours then mine.

The defeat of suffering I experienced was mine then
yours.

The endless love we gave each other was always yours
and always mine

This is Yours, This is Mine.