Read Poem: Naked by Niki Bell

If I exposed your naked truth,
Who would you be?
If I told you about your reflection,
While looking at my own,
What would you see?
If your evolvement,
Left you lacking,
What would you call it?
Then?… And?…Now?…
You allowed the female prowess to defile you,
Now, that is not the Goddess way.
Then, You allowed the female Queen B,
To define you,
As you looked to the ground.
Then, she was always demanding what you could not deliver.
Now, A victim.
No, thank you.
Your baggage?
Leave it at the door please.
Your amazing jaded-jagged edges of a hundred tattoos,
Your unfaithfulness,
Her adultery,
You cannot hide soldier wounds.
So, if your evolvement,
Left you lacking,
What would you call it?
Then?… And?… Now?…
Do you look for someone to save you?
Women please! Ask yourself this!
Mr. Dick has left the building.
You are lost at sea!
RE-READ
Do you look for someone to save you?
If you look forward into the future,
Now, Your kids all grown up,
Now, you are alone.
You must learn to be.
Or do you save yourself?
Men? Do you save yourself?
Are you a man of courage?
Loneliness is a learned skilled.
Or have you no courage to save yourself?
Domination?
Submission?
Which is it?
The creation of a hostile world.
Where no love rest here.
Where the human heart goes untouched,
Because of past repression,
Your self-exploration lost to the times,
Where no man wept.
No confidence?
No backbone?
Are you simply a pansy?
Ripped of your manhood.
Blamed on changed woman roles.
Do you not have your own thoughts and views?
Whether they fit or don’t fit into someone’s conception of disturbed reality.
Or are you an alpha with much to prove?
Men? Women?
A narcissist waiting to attack, perhaps?
Or a gentleman with chivalry and half truths?
Your voice orgasmically sweet.
Because of the new age of female gender bigotry,
Scandalous hypocrites,
You may call them,
Rejected you are,
Some may well be,
Subjected to instant gratification all of gender’s inequalities,
In a nicely wrapped bow.
It is not my cause to make,
Nor yours,
Nor can I interfere with your journey,
But, such causes do not bring love,
Love is politically incorrect as it should be.
They bring division,
Love is not about equality,
Money,
Passive Aggressiveness,
Narrative dictation,
Schedules,
Bury me now!
Check please, she says.
Speaking for all women, she continues.
Do not speak for me lady.
Your struggle is not the same as mine, nor mine yours.
Own your own pain,
Do not speak on mine.
Love is not about fairness,
As he makes her lift all the boxes,
Because she can,
Decide what you can do for her from the beginning,
Or you will be lost in your own path.
Years later trying to redeem,
Your self-identity.
All in which you cannot ever get…
A strong foundation not built based on love.
And, when her back goes out,
She is suddenly seen as weak,
Denying her own self-preservation,
Unable to have foresight of what is to come.
Again, not your cause or is it?
When you humanize the desired result,
From wishful thinking to reality,
From the heart,
There is no cause,
There is only love,
In this hostile world.
Do not bring labeled hostility in the bedroom
I do not want to be subjected,
I want to be accepted.
No matter which way,
My legs open,
I want to be safe, strong, vulnerable, and emotionally stable,
Way before you enter me.
Held in your arms,
In the aftermath,
Of juicy honey dripping passionate sensation.
Naked.
Time suspended for all eternity.
Swiftly through the clouds,
Pillowed mind,
The truth in a glory climax,
Rainbows of raptured love,
Take me now!
Tears of joyfully release for the both of us.
Naked truth.
Stilled in that twilight moment of ether.
Ahhhhhhhhh!!!
I am human,
So take the categories away,
Spiritual,
Racial,
Account for being,
And be human,
Be a man.
Have a heart,
Because when you fall,
You will need a strong woman with a beating heart to help you up,
Not bring you down,
Not mother you,
But, a real woman.
Do not blame me or her or anyone else,
Not even yourself.
Take responsibility for whatever went wrong and move on,
Your belief system is a little skewed,
Based on societal views,
If you are unable to be naked in the mirror,
And speak to your reflection,
To me,
From your heart,
We drip the same colour blood,
Your nakedness exposes you,
To your own half truths,
As you make love to yourself,
In your one minute stance,
I will no longer be there,
Come when you are ready,
As you always will,
I have survived on less.
The ship will keep sailing,
But, I am not lost at sea.
When the storm wipes you out,
You will have nothing to stand on,
Not even yourself.
Is that how you want your story played over and over again?
You might want to learn how to feel,
And speak your truth,
Fully!
Love you first,
Before you even think of loving me.
That my dear is the naked truth.
The ONE… Naked Truth.

Copyright © 2018 Niki Bell

Read Poem: REMEMBERED COURSE by Iddris Nyande; Disa CLique

We were there…
When the sons gathered;
And they sang before your throne;
When a star fell beyond his own;
We were there…
Hearing every single word;
And embracing the glorious third.
It was superb…
when you moved the surfaces;
When the dust turned and there were breakages.
A void birthing life…
A man whose name is Christ…
We were there…
When the creature succumed to corruption’s folly;
And all Adam could say was if only…
“If only I remembered”
Soul,
Let me remind you
That it was you who promised the sun while the rains fell;
It was you that shouted I can;
When no one was there;
You knelt;
You wept;
You said;
I will go.
Tell them!!!
“I remember now”
That your dreams are not playground for demons and clowns;
And your feet may be trophies but not ones the dust could brown.
“I remember now”
That it’s just a world you see and not the limit they see.
You’re calcuted
Predetermined even though they assumed you’re dead.
God’s blessings overflowing;
And you are there disowning;
It’s your purpose.
Soul,
Remember how tomorrow’s Haven;
Is in your hands, glowing
Because it’s you He made and it’s you He called,
“child”
.
A pride for you,
The dignity of God.
Remember!

Read Poem: Beauty by Marc Libidinsky

She was beauty set in stone;
I couldn’t move her,
she wouldn’t moan.
She was beauty,
she was sleep.
She was beauty
held at bay –
Held by me,
some might say.
She was beauty turning wild;
though, demurring:
Never mild.

(c) Marc Libidinsky, 1/17/2019

Read Poem: Standing Here by Ms Jackson

I’ve been standing here. Informal, without my
head bowed, fingers unlocked, shoes on and eyes
open. But I’ve come as humble as I know how. You
see, my heart is grateful for your touch, and in as
much, I honor you. we as your people come to give you praise
never hesitating to say thank you! But sometimes
we’re ashamed to admit just how much we really need you.
We’ve been praying for peace, power and
protection, We’ve been frustrated without regret..
some have cried at the top of their lungs and yet
you’ve seem so far away. And everyday our hearts
longs for something to say just to get your
attention.
We often find ourselves dizzy from walking in
circles and when we try to run, our feet pounds the
sounds of echoes and foot prints are embedded in
hells surface from a heavy heart, a heavy soul and
all kinds of strong holds. Never stopping to
consider that we make the angels jealous…and we
got satan wishing he had another chance do what
we do. But at times our knees get weak and prayer
tends to be the last option we cater to. So we
encounter adoption papers of void fillers and
periodic pain killers to change our frame of
thought. We lay in emergency rooms for hours on
hours waiting on a cure for brokenness and an
antidote to sub-comb our stress. And we repent, in
attempt to apologize. And countless times our sin

has brought tears to your eyes. How soon do we
forget, where our help comes from. And at some
point in time our minds take note of our souls that
could be dangling from a rope. and with hope, we
return to you. Finally, there you are…arms open
wide waiting patiently in line or like a rainbow after
the storm or a silver lining not mistaken for a
shooting star..Inspite of what we’ve done,
darkness is just the space without the sun. See
God, society has tought us to see before we speak,
which turns our faith from you. and in lieu of what
we’ve been through, it often seems like the right
thing to do. But today, today we declare not to
leave like we came. We’ll exhaust ourselves in
exalting you. We vow to worship inspite of what
we’re going through, so when the day is done, the
battles been fought and the victory won. We know
even in the solitude of that 12 hour. you were
there. And because You so loved the world, we so
love you, we thank you for favor and the
abundance of your care. The tears that you so
gently wipe away. The second chances times
infinity. New mercies everyday. When my sins
should’ve sent me to hell, your blood covered me,
like the nails that tore your skin, broke your bones
just for me, to right my wrongs. For me…for we,
for us, You did it. As the cat of 9 tails stripped
away your human rights for the pleasure of agony,
you took the pain you were destine to bare. And

we dare to complain about life ain’t fair.
Nevertheless, here we are…standing. Sometimes
out of pain, when we’ve had all we can take, blood
pressure high, sugar low, broken hearted and
pennyless, feeble minded, weak in our souls, sinful
natured, vicious vocals, careless actions, unworthy
vessels, here we are. Exercising our rights of
worship. Of praise, in these last days, God, please
keep us. Draw us nearer, we plead for intercession
because we know not what we do. Know us,
strengthen us, we are desperate for change. As we
stand here. In the name of Jesus, Amen.

Read Poem: REAPER, by Tamar Brooks

Your presence darkens heart’s delight
As you appear on wings of night
The aura of finality
The only shred of certainty.
You come to take from we who live
What we are not prepared to give
Yet I fear not twelve times twenty-three;
Why should I have fear of thee?
It may ne’er be understood
What dwells beneath your inky hood
This shroud of fearful superstition
Forbids the light of intuition.
However true this case may be,
I see a similarity:
No individual represents
A single purpose or intent.
In other words, one soul is named
A hundred ways and lives the same.
A father is a husband, too
So it must also be with you.
Harbinger of raw despair,
Cause for unexpected care,
Pain and suffering’s liberator,
Sudden heartbreak’s cold curator,
The ending steps of every path,
Respondent to a moment’s wrath,
Uninvited company
Into hearts that once were free,
The only constant life reveals,
Desperate hope when fate congeals,
Irrevocable backup plan,​
Last regret of every man,
Faceless worry in the night,
Depression lurking out of sight,
Messenger who can’t be shot,
Reminder of what we are not,
Source of sudden inspiration,
Call for reconciliation.
These titles only indicate
A portion of your nature’s state.
You mean but to fulfill a task
Whose ultimate purpose can’t be asked.

Read Poem: I FEAR THE WAKE by CASSIE M. HUFFMAN

DEEP THE NIGHTMARES BURNING BRIGHT
DO I PRAY THE QUICKNESS OF A REPEATED AND ABUSIVE DELIGHT?
MY BREATH HAS BEEN STOLEN, MY COMPOSURE ALL LOST
MY SENSE OF DIRECTION, OVER A SELF -MUTILATION PATH I HAD CROSSED

UNAWARE OF THE THOUGHTS DAY BEFORE I HAD LAIN
TO CAUSE THESE SWEATS, AND THOUGHTS INTENDED NOT FOR THE SANE
THE TREMBLES, THE SHAKES, OH WHY? OH HOW LONG?
HOW LONG CAN ONE ENDURE AN OVERPLAYED SONG?

I WILL THE NIGHTMARES, I WILL THE FEAR
I FEEL SAFE IN THE DARKNESS; SHADOWED BY THE SORROW I WEAR
THIS BURDEN I CARRY, AS MY SCRATCHES HAVE IMBED
WHO WOULD EVER BELIEVE I’M SO FUCKED UP IN THE HEAD?

I WILL TO SLEEP ALL NIGHT THROUGH
FOR MY WELL BEING’S SAKE
THE VOICES IN MY HEAD ARE OVERDUE
FOR AN ETERNAL SILENCE OVERTAKE

I NEED THE TERROR, I NEED SOME REST
MY HEART WILL NO LONGER BEAT INSIDE OF MY CHEST
I SHALL RIP IT OUT, OH THE BLOOD IT WILL CAST
AN UNINTERUPTED AND INFINITE NIGHTMARE AT LAST..

Read Poem: SHADOW LIFE by Keith Mark Gaboury

Last night I dreamt
my indoor shadow
fucked Mary’s outdoor shadow

so out popped
a shadow baby who unlocked
my front door to suckle
under the local lemon tree. How wonderful

to pluck a yellow world and squeeze
its juice into my descendent’s shadow eyes:
he needed to feel shadow pain
grind down his brain.

After mom screamed pellets
to the police, I ran my shadow joy
through a Golden Gate cloud

where the juice burned holes
into the bridge’s red metal, red
like a balloon casting
an urban shadow on Telegraph Hill

when I wake up and assault
my heart up that incline.
After a trolley car
steamrolls over my shadow

at the summit, I drag my bare self
to meet Mary at the sperm bank.
Am I broke? Mary smiles.
She knows my worth.

Read Poem: Scars by Carmen Rambally

Sharp, piercing and an unforgettable shine
Fierce and poignant, never missing
Flashes of red, dripping and dripping
No escape and surrounded forever
By a scar you will regret later

Is my body scarred?
Or is it my vision?
Is it the memory?
Or is it the feeling?
Staring back at me and into my soul
My soul, now left with a huge hole

But I’m reminded
About the vision, memory and feeling
All through a scar
Or should I call this
A stolen moment of my worth
A worth which I left alone
Leaving myself to sit and condone

Now my scar has left me with a lesson
Dear myself, always win against depression

GENRE: Society, depression, self harm, anger, sadness, painful, motivational

Read Poem: Lost Love by Abby Petrich

There are people all around you hugging, laughing, crying, and sharing all the memories. The only thing you can think about is not your friends because you know you’ll see them again, but the person standing a few feet in front of you. A tear runs down your cheek when a tear falls from theirs. You both open your arms. You walk toward their open arms. You’re thinking about all those times you had together and how they’re coming to an end. You hold on a little too tightly. You never want to let go, but at one point you must.
They tell you to keep in touch. “I will,” you mumble. They’re about to say something, but before they can get out their true feelings, your friends run up and pull you away saying something about a party. As you’re being dragged away, you look back, seeing that person just stand there with another tear falling.
An hour later, you’re in the backseat of your parent’s car. You look out the back window to see him running out the building, waving. You wave back knowing this moment will probably be the last time you will ever see him. You wave until he’s just a speck in the distance. You turn around and take a deep breath. Another tear falls as you look out the window with the rain falling heavily and everything flashing by.
Your mother turns and looks at you. “So are you ready for school, getting out on your own and college boys?”
All you have to say is “sure.” All you can think about, though, is those past four years.
You’re going to school in the fall. They’re going across the country.
You text for a while, but you are both too busy to get together.
Five months later, you get the first call. You talk for briefly twenty minutes.
Another five months go by, you get a letter. You write back.
A year later… Nothing. Another year… Nothing.
You search social media. You can’t find anything under their name.
You’ve officially lost touch. You can’t help but wonder where in the world is that person? Who are they with? Are they thinking about you? Do they even remember you and those four years? Sure, you’ll meet new people, but nothing like that one person. You’ll never know what could have been. It’s that one person you always wanted to be in your life.
Ten years go by and it seems like that life was from a different lifetime. It seems like a thousand years ago. You’re not even sure if they’re alive or with a family. Not a day goes by you don’t think of him. You watch the news. A girl you knew from school recently died from cancer. Another two people you knew are now professional football players.
You’re driving your kids to school. You see a homeless man on the side of the road, you remember you knew them as well. You felt bad for him, but every person you see that you knew only reminds you of that one person. Another tear falls. Your baby girl in the backseat asks, “mommy, what’s wrong?”
You say, “nothing.” Then you say to your kids, “never let time pass you by. Be thankful for every moment. Never regret something or someone that once made you smile. Time is too short. You have something to say, say it!”
The little girl says, “okay mommy,” although she doesn’t quite understand.
Junior year, your baby girl is going to homecoming and prom. She reminds you of yourself in school. One day, she tells you about this new boy who is always flirting and waiting for her in the halls. She tells you she asked him out. He said “yes.” She tells you that she had to do it before he moved on. Again, you think of all those memories you had. Although you love your life now, sometimes you secretly wish you could go back and do things differently.
Of course, time flies by and now you’re sitting there watching your baby girl walk down the aisle. She’s marrying her high school love, the one she told you about junior year. You’re happy for her, you really are, but you can’t help but feel a tad bit jealous. You think of him again. Another tear falls.
If you’re lucky, when you’re old, you and that person run into each other for the first time in 40 years. Last time you saw each other was graduation day. You sit down for coffee, catch up on each other’s’ lives, tell each other the feelings you were too afraid to say in high school and fall in love all over again.
But that rarely ever happens…

Read Poem: The Shadow of The Bat by Laurence Lagrue

Make sure your doors are locked up tight
Shut out this dark and stormy night.
Here is a tale as yet untold;
One that will make your blood run cold.

You may recall, a little while back
My mother-in-law suffered a bat attack.
This briefly caused her to behave quite oddly,
But left no lasting damage bodily.

At least that is what we had assumed
For over us a new shadow loomed.
From the previous horror it was begat
A malevolent shadow of the bat!

Originally mother-in-law’s left hand was bit
And though she said she’d got over it,
The ‘badness’ to her right arm had jumped
Because it ached severely like she’d been thumped.

This aching steadily grew and spread.
“Oh it’s right miserable”, she often said.
I suggested a doctor’s visit if she was ill
But she just said, “I’ll take some pills”

Then on Halloween night we got a strange call
From my mother in law – not herself at all.
“Help! It’s my arm, it’s got me!” was all she said
Then silence, as the line went dead.

For a moment I felt really, really scared
But I knew that I had to get round there.
In haste, I grabbed my coat and keys
Ignoring the trembling in my knees.

I reached her house not feeling brave,
The whole place was as quiet as the grave.
I went round to the side door to let myself in
And on tenterhooks, walked into her kitchen.

A horrible sight there met my eyes;
On a plate, on a table was unfinished meat pie.
Oh, it breaks my heart to see such waste,
So I tipped it in my coat pocket – just in case.

I crept on through the house in search of the lady
My coat pocket steadily filling with gravy.
I suddenly became aware of a slow steady sound;
The repetition of something being dragged on the ground.

As I turned into the hall, I very nearly retched;
She was out cold on the floor – her right arm outstretched.
By its own power, the limb was dragging her across the floor
Making slow steady progress towards her front door.

It was horrible to witness, I really must say
Her clothing had ridden up in a most unflattering way.
Now older ladies’ underwear may look nice on a dummy
But nothing can prepare you for seeing them on mummy.

But this was no time for principles – she needed assistance
So with an angry roar I soon covered the distance.
With both hands I grabbed the limb below the wrist
Then the hand twisted towards me – and turned into a fist.

As quick as a flash I got punched in the jaw.
By the time I reacted, I’d been punched twice more.
Like a possessed boa constrictor, the arm twisted and turned
Growing hot in my grasp, with pure evil it burned.

This fight was exhausting, it was taking its toll,
My mother in law was thrown about like a rag doll.
There was only one way to save her, I knew what to do:
The arm and the shoulder – had to be severed in two.

In anguish and horror, with my jaw really hurting
I dragged her back around, scraping her shoes on the skirting.
I was sweating and panting, and my coat had a stain.
And I knew that I’d have to paint that skirting again.

I made it back to the kitchen as best I was able
Though I did clack mum’s head on her telephone table.
I knew I was fighting to save both our lives
As I opened a drawer in the search of sharp knives.

I found one – a cleaver – then two more, and another
(remind me, I must have a word with my mother)
With no time to be choosy I reached for one, but
Before I could take it, the drawer was slammed shut!

The arm knew what I was planning, so it started to fight;
It twisted and wriggled with all of its might.
In self-preservation it was mean and unruly
Then without provocation, punched me straight in the goolies.

Now a punch to that area, is a real big no-no;
Even for an evil limb, that was a low blow.
If it was dirty fighting it wanted, I’ve a badge that I’ve earned;
So with a quick change of grip, I gave it two Chinese burns.

I was in a real battle, and boy was it rough!
For an old lady’s arm, this limb was vicious and tough.
I tasted blood in my mouth – it was sickly and sweet
And I was spattered with pie crust, gravy and meat.

We pulled and we wrestled; this fight was a saga!
The arm shut my fingers in the door of mum’s Aga.
In one surging mass of movement, we writhed on the floor
Until I slammed it repeatedly in the Fridge door.

The arm lay there limply, and I took a breather
Before seizing my chance, and grabbing a cleaver.
Looking down at the chaos, I gave a small cough.
There was only one thing for it; that arm must come off.

I knelt on the limb, to hold it firmly in place
Then paused as I gazed at my poor mother’s face;
Despite her ordeal, she looked free from all pain
Though her appearance was spoiled by a large gravy stain.

She was still very unconscious – which was a big plus
As I readied myself to do what I must.
With the cleaver raised high, I hoped my aim would be true
Then I brought it down swiftly, cutting the limb clean through.

If I thought it was over, I was wrong – oh by heck!
The arm suddenly shot upwards, grabbing me round the neck!
I just had time to croak “you’ve got to be joking”
Before frantically clawing at the hand that was choking.

Then a voice in my head told me “fight, Larry fight!”
So I pulled at the arm with all of my might.
It’s grip finally broke with a huge wrench I gave,
Then I stuffed it – still fighting – into the Microwave.

It hammered on the glass as I turned the thing on:
I didn’t want ‘de-frost’; that would take far too long.
In an act of defiance, as the microwaves flowed
The limb gave me the finger – then I saw it explode.

That was it, it was over; I’d finally won.
Exhausted, I returned to help my poor mum.
To hospital she was taken, and she started to mend
And both our ordeals had finally come to an end.

They gave her a new arm, to replace the one chopped;
It can carry seven bags when she goes to the shops.
It has artificial intelligence, and is frighteningly strong.
It became self-aware yesterday…….what could possibly go wrong?