Category: 2018 Poetry

Read Poetry by Jasmine Lowe

I am home alone in my chair in the dark
The clock strikes twelve and I wonder where the time has gone.
I decide to go to bed, and so I begin to get up
But to my surprise I hear a knocking at my door.

I decide to ignore it and continue onto bed
Who in their right mind comes knocking at midnight?
So I climb the stairs as quietly as I can
But creaking sounds emerge from the wood.

I walk down the hall and gently open my room door
And to my surprise I still hear the knocking.
I walk across the floor and reach my bed
And climb in between the sheets to finally get some sleep.

I slowly fall deep into a slumber
Falling deeper and deeper until I am about to begin a dream.
But then there is a slam, and so I spring upright in fear
For someone has entered the front door in a wild furry.

I jump out of bed half disoriented and grab my gun
This crazy person has got to get out now!
I slowly creep towards the door and slip out of my room.
I move down the hall with Remington rifle.

I hear creaking footsteps coming up the stairs
Slowly, I hear them enclosing with my own.
I’ve got him now; he won’t even know what had hit him
And so I round the corner to face the intruder.

A loud bang rings through the house
And a loud thumping down the stairs falls afterwards.
I know blood is everywhere, splattered all the way down the stairs
It will be a huge mess to clean up in the morning.

I decide to call for help to get this situation over with
But I hear nothing; I see nothing from the darkness
I smell nothing, I taste nothing
But I do feel something.

I feel liquid and it is warm and thick
I notice my eyes are closed and I look at what had become.
Blood, it was everywhere like I had expected
But what I didn’t was a hole through my chest.

The blood gushed out from my heart and through my chest
I laid there at the bottom of the stairs unable to move.
I was out of breath and desperately trying to figure out how to find more.
I saw my eyes begin to close as my attacker walked down the stairs.

He walked down the stairs and up to the front door.
He had grabbed my gun just in case I wasn’t gone yet
But I was completely unable to breathe even one breath.
Then he opened the door and turned back towards me and made a noise like the clock.

I am home alone in my chair in the dark
The clock strikes twelve and I wonder where the time has gone.
I decide to go to bed, and so I begin to get up
But to my surprise I hear a knocking at my door.

I am home alone in my chair in the dark
The clock strikes twelve and I wonder where the time has gone.
I decide to go to bed, and so I begin to get up
But to my surprise I hear a knocking at my door.

Read Poem: Bend Eternity, by Raj Viswanadha

When all dust and talk has settled down
Smoke and smokescreens withered away;
When passions and tempers have waned (somewhat)
And shields and swords stand no more in way;
Search deep within your soul then –
And find the steel to ink another way.

When tide and hunger have both been quelled
Grief and anger hold no more sway;
When joy and pain bring equal solace
And the wheel of fate toils your way;
Search deep within your soul then –
And find the clay to mould another way.

When you find yourself at crossroads
And care neither for the trail nor how you fare;
When fame and fortune smile upon you,
And blades of grass to serrated peaks, all
Bask contended in your caressing care;
Search deep within your soul then –
And find the whim to color another way.

When searing melody has vented notes,
How littlest levity is with irony fraught
And the gladdened beauty of the lonesome heart;
When lilting verses tell not just your tale
But hoary tomes in the Story of Man;
When gasping breath has not just laurels wrought
But sprung hope in the Song of Life;
Search deep within your soul then –
And find the fire to sing another way.

But whilst you delve into the yawning chasm,
And be you of great humility and gentler cheer
Profound revelations become yours to keep;
Reach into the world far and wide then –
And bend eternity to your humble way ….

Read Poem: FATHERLY ADVICE, by Aaron Marchant

It’s all very well, you being kind and giving
but kindly give consideration to my plea
The world will not just hand a chap a living
so take it by the ‘scruff’ boy just like me

I recall upon my debut playing ‘rugger’
some fool accidentally kicked me on the shin
I swiftly turned and ‘upper cut’ the bugger
and that’s the last I ever saw of him

Then in the army, first day on parade
the Sarge barked ‘give me fifty’ ‘on the ground’
I didn’t like the tone of his tirade
and to this day, his body’s not been found

And then there was the time I met your mother
I knew at once that Cupid’s work was done
and overcame objections from her brother
‘You never met your uncle, did you son?’

Banking was my profession as you know
I moved quickly to the top from humble teller
I can’t of course relate how this was so
But don’t go digging underneath the cellar

I made a side bet, on the golf course with the Major
My game that day was just not ‘up to snuff’
The Major was sure I would lose the wager
but instead I lost the Major in the rough

I got a visit from an income tax inspector
He insisted I’d not told them all I earn
I objected to his high and mighty hector
So, neither he or I completed our ‘return’

Yes, take a tip from me boy, don’t be shy
For life rewards the fearless and the willing
The game of life is either do or die
so be a doer son, and make a killing!

Copyright Aaron Marchant 2018

Read Poem: Haunted, by Jen Persichetti

You loved the thought of loving me,
but not the act

That is how you slept at night…
you played the victim
both in and out of your slumber

My nights were decrepit and empty
I slept only wanting to
continue doing so…ceaselessly.

I wish I could say that was an embellishment

I hated your manipulative ways;
they stay with me to this day

My memory of you is a bleak one
​ ~
perched on your favorite
stool in the kitchen
ranting about how miserable you were —
while sipping your morning coffee

Haunted; not thinking,
but knowing how unhappy you were.

I spent my weekdays dreading
the sound of the final bell;
when freedom was upon my peers

I walked off the bus to my dungeon;
with my backpack in hand.

Pathetically hoping for benevolence

I lingered outside,
preparing myself for
the tidal wave of emotions
I was about to endure –

Again.

copyright 2018 Jen Persichetti

Read Poem: Dreamer’s Awe, by E.P. Carry

Can you see?

We are 

but one star

within reflection

along a stream

as we breathe

the rhythmic rain

linked together like

a chain 

of inter-play

 

Can’t break sway!

 

Do we dream

that it’s too real

how we feel?

 

Gotta pray!

 

When you hold me

in your dream

does it seem

we’ve been 

set free?

 

Come together

what we dream . . .

our dream 

is a plea©

Read Poem: Part Conversation with Homlo, by Bhekuzulu Khumalo

What are you doing here?
You don’t know whose cave this is,
I dwell here, I Homlo, a dragon guard
I dwelled here long before you came here
I saw them create you, a man they called it.
A man, what is that, one chuckled
Now you have buildings to the sky’s
Your mind reaches to the furthest corners of the universe, man they called it.

How did you find my dwelling?
Dwelling here since your first time, your first age as man,
Now I still observe from my dwelling.
How in all the powers of the universe did you reach here
Few men can talk with me
How did your mind reach my dwelling?
All bothered by something, what bothers you human?
You must tell me how you got here, your mind.
Twisting the body, the spirit, can you twirl your spirit?
Expand it, contract it, well for you, human,
Just feel its expansions, it’s contractions, imagine a mind controlling that
Not you human.
What can I do for you?
What are you?

The oppressed,
Mind searching everywhere for freedom.
I have shared a word with many such folk.
I can categorize you all,
From meeting your representatives, crazy isn’t it.
Who is denying you freedom,
Who cares it’s all the same, freedom denied is freedom denied.
If I could be you, I can’t,
I would hate the fact that freedom is lacking first above all else.
Then unfortunately, it is difficult to have a strong mind,
I have seen all these things.
Hate that there is no freedom before hating the opponent, human,
Eventually you will hate your opponent, nothing comes out of it.
Don’t hate him or her,
Your language is him or her these days.
I have been around man,
Your expressions change with the ages, but still a consistent bunch.
Hate,
How can somebody ever talk of freedom when they have hate in them, I have never understood that about humans. The thought I am free but they are evil, over come it that’s all I can say.

What do you want me to say, you are the magic,
Seriously
You are the magic, free your mind
Overcome it and take a step towards freedom, try it,
Don’t forget to fight for your freedom.

You not oppressed,
Hmm,
You have freedom.
Freedom confuses you, are you one of those. From the robber class
All elites are robber class, yes they are.
What boy do you think is the giving of privileges, money doesn’t make you elite
Privilege does, force you they do, force you to share with em
Ay boy, I was there when money was created,
Swear swear, swear on all the other dragons
I was there when idea of money was conceived,
Money was to go to those who serve society,
No, no, that is much later, now what where the words of Zonla,
Money was his idea, well to give you,
Humans love to share, have to share to survive, don’t worry about it, learning process
Learn what you don’t know, and money is perfect tool for sharing.
That’s it, money
A tool for sharing,
Evil, please you are evil, they take where they have not sown, privilege.
Don’t give me those looks,
What weak mind made it to my dwelling
Sharing man, sharing human
Think about it, or don’t waste my time,
Money, proper cash, they created for sharing.
No, you, what are you, who are you?
The searcher of knowledge,
Hmmm, you just want to know stuff
Where it all started, how it works, now that’s good,
Just know how it works
Forget about end of the universe, if meant to be you get there,
Just know how it works, everything you see.
There you are human,
Get to know how it works,
Share that knowledge, that’s how it was supposed to be, before hate,
Imagine that, a tool of hatred causing such madness, how ironic,
Wish I could see Zonla’s face now, look at your madness.
Told him humans are too weak, never listens.
That’s money, well Zonla’s idea, sharing, primitive shits, as if you could understand sharing.
Tell me what you want.

What lies,
Money can only buy knowledge,
It can’t buy anything else, a tool for sharing and by sharing progress for all.
Didn’t take long for you guys to corrupt it, it’s very idea,
What do you want human? What do you want with me?

Know how it works, oh man
Are you dumb, that’s it know how it works and go and share your knowledge
That’s freedom, that’s money.
Don’t forget to get yourself a nice mate and reproduce.
Money, money money, money, what are thinking about?
If you are oppressed
When you win
Make sure money represents sharing
Sharing that, sharing this, and that over there if somebody wants it
Sharing, understand it as sharing boy.
Oh you hurt
Don’t like being called boy,
Homlo apologizes, you listen well.
I am Homlo, I dwell here and aware of much
He wants freedom, he wants freedom, he wants freedom
I got you didn’t I,
You like it no, money, just a tool for sharing I swear, I was there.

Easy there human
I have been around talked to your wisest, well some reach me
Who knows for what
What are you here for, a conversation
Darkness comes, but morning comes
For ever darkness and light, constant cycle
Got you, no wise words for you
The light has more photons.
Been with your kind countless day and night or is it night and day.
Sang with your man of war
We going to bath in their blood
We swim in blood,
We swim in blood tomorrow
Stuff like that, a little bit around.
Thundering thunder
Thunder my second one
Always sulking
Always brooding
I love you boy
Lightening my first boy
When ever lightening says hello be sure my family is strong,
Young thunder answers,
You like that, you want to meet the very ancient,
There is always more out there, more ancient than the last,
Why bother?

Take care to share
Arrogance and deception will bring human race down
Money can bring out best, but usually worst in many
Don’t doubt me human
I take gamma baths and get stronger
I dance on gravity
My very thoughts create heat.
Thunder and lightening are sons of mine mothered by Fontali
Princess of the dragon lord himself
She was a love
Wonder where she is?
You cry human for loads, even the ancients have loads
What ever happened to Fontali?
My Fontali

Read Poem: The Promise, by Aston Writer

“You promise?”
Aged only six years
A promise meant trust
Strangers meant no harm

The night had descended
Silence roamed the eerily air
It was dark, blinding and unnatural
Grass sounded brittle in the coldness

Sudden fear ensnared her vulnerability
He held her hand with an iron grip
“I want my mommy!”
She screamed at him

The tight grip hurt her
“You want to play?”
“I will show you a game.”
Pulling her into stretched shadows

A pale moon hung just above
Sprinkled stars surrounding it
The sky appeared velvet black
As if foreseeing impending horror

Stormy emotions circled her
Helplessness
Confusion
Fear

Tears rolled down her cheeks
She tried to free from his grip
Power was with him
She couldn’t

Nights like these transformed him
Drove wild his animal instincts
Hunting for naive fluid beauty
Obeyed demanding sounds

Subdued in the stretching cold night
Flames leaped within her body
Sending sharp sparks of pain
She couldn’t scream
Not anymore