Category: new poetry

Read Poem: Dream Catcher by SWETA

Behind the curtain of rain,
I could see a boy, walking up to me
And sound of the rain was silenced
As he held me, like a destiny.

His eyes were trying to see through
I closed mine in bliss
My lips opened in awe
Were just then closed in a kiss.

I woke up in the middle of a night
I found you, staying, with my mind.
How silly it seems when I start smiling
In the dreams of you, utterly wild.

An hour before it nulled,
and rejected to breathe again
the delight that choked this heart
Turned it a bit insane.

It’s not fair to steal my time
and my dreams that has you.
It is like a pleasant robbery
that has my consent and hands too.

I go back, in the slumber again
To sink into the dreams of you
In the morn with the drowsy sun
You still hover as a midnight clue

I admit that I always lie
and hide my part of sin
that accuses me of loving you madly
and feigning the act of grin.

Over the phone, against the pillow
The night stays awake with us
Only before the sun rises,
We find the moon, fading and jealous.

Your eyes speak, like the oceanic waves
And face gleams, razzing the moon
My sleeps are bewildered and stolen
In the eternal wait of meeting you soon.

Read Poem: Prayer For Humanity by Timothy Patrick Hunt

If ever there was a time for GOOD-WILL
…NOW is that time….

And, if ever there was a need to SEE
We must all live in PEACE…
I can only say,
“We must first HEAR each other’s needs.”

For, if ever there was such a DILEMMA to be solved,
It’s the BLINDNESS and DEAFNESS, that only LOVE can cure….
Because of these two afflictions, our INTELLIGENCE suffers,
And all our HUMAN senses become obscured.

So, if ever there was a time to be KIND — to one another
…Let us pray, WE don’t waste … anymore TIME.

— Poetry For Modern Man
Copyright 1991 T.P.Hunt

Read Poem: ACADEMIC TESTS by Sahaj Sabharwal

Oh these tests,
Superflous academic tests.
No time to prepare
For entrance tests.

Difficult to store
Vast concepts in mind,
Oh how to retain so much
Till marks given and paper signed.

Bewaring that,
The examiner is not blind,
And not our bydweller
That gives marks so kind.

All worried,
Smile crease no face.
Will we get through,
Or falter in this pace.

Parents worried about their carreer
They believe books are nifty,
Smartphones are carrier’s barrier
With no sympathy.

Parent’s and teacher’s
Support and hope is essential,
In order to raise their potential.

Read Poem: THE MYTH OF POETIC POVERTY by Jay Mandeville

Being poor & being a poet is impossible. Every poet notices the absurdity of it. All the sacrifices that the practiced eye reads between the lines in poetry are not the result of scarcity, but reactions to the superabundance with which the sensory world enchants & deceives us. Only incidentally do poets notice their dinner’s unpaid for, the champagne is rusty tapwater, & the groceries they’ve put on their list have already been plowed under & used for compost. Poetic gardens, by design, are overrun by nature’s scavengers – each poet imagining the mole & the crow as allies in their game. But for all of their vigilance, the traps they contrive with the words they inscribe often remain unheeded & unsprung. Still the wily poets persist, with characteristic stubborn diligence, to gamely & unguardedly snag, bag, & expose all the secret wealth they possess – by means of their VISIONS & crafted inscriptions – tempting all connoisseurs of INTERIORITY-CONQUERING-INDIGENCE with an embarrassment of riches.

Read Poem: Beloved Daughter by Fikayo Balogun

It was a summer evening
the breeze turned leaves
into jellyfishes
ran across grasses
and I crushed blades
beneath my feet
on my way to find love.

Love pulled me
by my crown
pinned my face
to the rocky scales
of the baobab tree
and yanked my skirt away
Ice wind rushed between my legs
flushed
my will, my freedom
through my mouth
with every scream
of
NO!
Don’t!
Please!

He slammed away
till he released his poison
inside of me
its toxic glow
exploded through my veins
till my heart
became still.

Crushed berries
was my bed
dead leaves hugged
my naked body
I could feel
the sting
of a thousand bees
between my legs
as the earth soaked up
the slimy liquid
dripping from my core.

“You woke the sleeping dragon with your giggle, love,” he said
I wanted to scream
“Don’t tell me it’s my fault that your mind is a sink hole”
I came to find love
No one warned me that men had become wolves devouring
every beating heart
No one sent me a memo, or was it lost in the mail
like my soul
I wanted to scream, but my cords
had lost the will for words
I watched him
zip up the murder weapon. He laughed
his laughter flew ahead of his thirsty boots
as he beat a path away
from my bartered soul
I died that summer evening.

My headstone read
“Beloved daughter, she loved berries”
I was buried deep
on a wasted land
with no berry tree
the priest said
I died an unholy death, like
it was my fault
that no one saw that
I died, long before
I became dead.

The world asked me to speak,
I said
Words are
dogs without bites
bees without stings
kings without crowns
Words can’t describe
the injustice
that has been dealt
to my very soul
Words would buy you justice,
they said
I told them, I come
from a line of novelty
a city of
virgin maidens, frail fairies,
white hills and red mountains.
A vast land of
berries graced upon by
things
scarce and pure like
unicorns
But what has been taken from me
is my life with my soul
ripped from its root
I have disappeared
into oblivion
Words
can not.
bring me back.

Read Poem: Birthday Poem for D by Serena Solin

What I wanted to give you
I thought of as a mouth organ,
something I’d seen, not in dream,
we never dreamed—dab rig & shatter.

I thought better in the glass safe
they call “the elevator bank.”
What on earth did I think
you would do with a harmonica?

Read Poem: CHILD’S PLAY by Dan Liberthson

I play the World Series with marbles
on our vine-laced Persian carpet:
its palaces are bases,
its bowers become dugouts
where my heroes’ cards wait
for their manager’s hand.
I play both sides, home and away,
hitter and fielder—as always
no one on my team but me.

Adult shapes, fat and crooked,
bald and creased or worn thin,
edge around me,
pass through the house smiling
down as if to say dear child
you know nothing outside
your magic carpet, which
one day you’ll find is only a rug
that will take you no place at all.

But I have just jumped
an impossible height, caught
Roger Maris’ hot line drive to right
and brought it back over the fence.
The roar of the crowd
puts any doubt to rest:
in that moment I am blessed
and that moment is all there is.

©2008, 2018 by Dan Liberthson
from my book The Pitch is on the Way: Poems About Baseball and Life
see more at http://www.liberthson.com

Read Poem: yellow by Andrew Liu

sometimes you come in my dreams. i can feel your warmth, locked in your soft embrace. there’s a tug on my heart and i feel so safe. you are my shelter. i could spend an eternity here, because when i’m with you everything is rain drops and soft conversations with our heart beats in the background calm. when i wake you’re nowhere in sight, i can’t find your face and all i feel is a wave of nostalgia. it’s a melancholic tone filled with wistful hopes. how we spent our days dreaming in a field of gold. i constantly search for you in my mind. who are you? where are you? will i meet you in this lifetime?