Category: poet

Not a king, by Yamini Rana

I’ve pulled,
I’ve held,
I’ve been the lead.

With no vices,
and no dices,
Benevolence, I bleed.

For I need no bling,
as I am no king.
For I break and make,
and weave worthy kings!

Call me right hand,
Call me hidden hand,
But I am powerful ‘The Hand’
As I foresee,
and I fore-plan,
But the crown never do I land.

As I was a king
not long way back,
Best and Just of all
that I must add.

So I know a king has his might,
with a lot of knights by his side.
But a Maker, I am ‘The Bright’
with unique sight working day-night.

As I want no throne,
I want no peak,
So I stepped aside,
my worth, I seek.

As why be selfish
and be the only great one?
As I can make many great kings
when I’ll be through and done!

For I give wings to many other,
And I am no king
But a KingMaker.

Where do we go from here? The Covid Diaries, by Nichole McIntosh

#TheHealingArtOfPoetry

Monday Morning Musings of a Healing Arts Practitioner.

Where do we go from here?

As talk now turns to what we do next.

We cannot help but ponder what is best.

Ease up the restrictions too early to boost the economy?

Or “grit and bear it” for the sake of humanity?

Where do we go from here?

Never has strong, effective leadership mattered more.

History will not be kind to those leaders who see it as a chore.

We will remember the leaders who showed courage and decency.

We will hold to account, with contempt, the leaders who fail to perform their duties effectively.

Where do we go from here?

Who knows for sure?

We are, to use a cliche that will forever be associated with covid-19, in unprecedented times.

Where do we go from here? Living better, humble, fulfilled and dignified lives.

Nichole McIntosh FRSA

Unrequited love, by Elizabeth Kagai

I’m not so acquainted with the language of love,
So when you went off topic, you lost me

I fell,
Fell in love,
Fell for you

But worst off,
Lost my eyes in yours,
Not so sure yours in mine!

It’s like I gave myself,
Gave myself up,
Gave myself to you,
Not so sure what I wanted in return,
Not knowing it should be a mutual feeling,
That I was to get something in return

I became selfless,
Selfless to a point of losing self,
Losing self to the selflessness I had inflicted on self

Or maybe losing self to you,
You and the trust I gave,
Trust that you couldn’t let self go,
Trust that you’d hold on tight,
Trust that you’d know how to take care of self
Trust that I’d never thought you’d break

Countless times I had to convince,
Convince myself that I was on script,
Convince myself I had everything under control,
Convince myself that I deserved the cold
Convince myself that “the hand that giveth is the hand that receiveth”
And all for what?

Maybe all I need to do is get up,
Dust myself of the fall,
Teach myself that I am worth,
Worth fighting for,
Worth more

And that you went off,
Off topic,
Off script,
You should have stuck to the script,
Stuck to your own lane

And that I was just lost,
Yet to be found,
Found by anyone who accidentally passed by the lost and founds,
Anyone better than you,
Anyone but you!

Anyone would be better than you!

Affection Affair, by Unforgiven

It touches me to feel it
Touches me to feel the love
Offered for free
By people who understand its meaning
Is pretence worth it?
No?
You don’t want to be loved?
Yes?
Disgrace to you that extinguish
The sparks that light up someone’s heart
You that shatter dreams
You that end lives
You that make up excuses
Not to be with some one that loves you
Why?
Because you didn’t feel like it?
Because they didn’t have money?
Because they didn’t have the height?
Because it didn’t satisfy you?
Because you were afraid of being dumped?
These insecurities make up lust
Lust for other human beings.
Lust for people who will end up
Hurting the heart you dearly protect
And leave you desperate
You will end up giving advice to
The ones
In the budding stages of TRUE LOVE
Who value its worth.

https://poeticdose.home.blog/

CLAP, by Darell J Philip

Windows opened
Mum and I screaming at the top of our…
You know, that organ which
Mr Corona makes the point of his attack
Our voices in unison with the carnival of faces
Hand clapping together among our block
For those brave front liners
Robed in white and blue
Their lives risking for Queen and Country
For me and you

A sign in a window reads
Hang in there Hackney
Locked down, stuck in isolation
Longing to be free
Hooting and beeping cars drive by
An outpouring of love filling the illuminous sky
Dethroning Mr Corona from his royal seat
His nasty legacy we will surely defeat

An unusual crescendo took place that night
The community together an awesome sight
It was to everyone’s most absolute delight
To see Mr Corona given a most chilling fright
For all the lives he’s cruelly taken away
For all those families we kneel and pray
Our frontline heroes – relics of the past
For you we clap knowing this too shall past

The morning after the night before
A bright smile beams across the sky
As a reminder of that glorious day soon to come
When from this earth with angel’s wings
We take off and fly.

(C) Copyright 2020, Darell J Philip, Clap
https://darellphilip.wordpress.com/

SOLAR PROBE, by Muhammad Zaheer

Thy Corona Heat can render and ignite
Yonder placed;
Carbon-Carbon-Composite sheath
And every cocoon placed at yon
Farther at Six n two million
O’Helios!

To Subdue the Sun; in this fun
One should not spun.
I do importune and the rest must learn
What we require is nothing!
But a real
Refractory.

My NASA dons!
Don’t be forlorn.
Do act upon my humble song.
I keep the all we need at all
Come and take that metallum mine!
That is to say, my heart along!

Ben-Hur: From Here to Eternity, by Lampropoulou Athanasia

Cleft in twain now looking for my M(ark)
launching of my Odyssey but there awaits the narc!
“Be a goodfella now,” he said
“not a raging bull” in a titanic set.
Lost in translation and bearing my se7en sins
I’ve been searching for my dolce vita ever since.
Being a pariah among parasites
I now count 12 years a slave in wuthering heights.
And although I try hard to be the artist that they seek,
I only get identified with Zorba the Greek.
Pan’s labyrinth lies ahead
But I’ve got the gladiator with me my friend.
Stepping upon a shape of water
A desert flower emerged.
“Be braveheart my dear when you get discharged.”
The best years of our lives are yet to come
but I only long for the silence of the lamb.
The sting is deeply rooted in the skin I live in,
The English patient they call me, the nonliving.
I once heard that one flew over the cuckoo’s nest
but he was left all stranded in the west;
not even a streetcar named desire to save his soul
just the right scapegoat to pigeonhole.
So there he was, commissioned to kill a mockingbird
a walking carmagnole with no safe bet.
He tossed three coins in the fountain-his ex machina appeared.
“Will you help me my fair lady?” he said afeared.
“This west side story is your destiny
but beware on the waterfront of the upcoming mutiny!”
The Occident is no place for a godfather.
He will rise, he will thrive, he will fall-like any other.
His empire – gone with the wind now
looking for his Gigi, his eternal vow.

Comfort Me, by Saar Arreola

I hav a body
I hav a soul
But I’m not of this world
I don’t belong
People are tainted
And mislead
I’m always gonna be wronged
Where’s the love and compassion
Where’s the kindness and joy
Theres jus death and destruction
Unfairness, corruption, and pain
Why not end my life
And reclaim it for my own
I can’t even see what’s in store for me
I can’t get past this mess
That I continuously see on the TV
With all the assholes that cause the fuckery
My mind gambles with
Who’s gonna be next
Will it be me?
Or my trans friend next to me
Who’s life will be stolen
By the hands of another human
Being human disgusts me
This is not my kind
Humankind is being both
Condescending at the most
I don’t get it
It hurts me everyday
Why the hate?
WHY THE HATE??
So I transcend myself
And make my body my own
Agender and proud
To call my body my soul’s home
But I hav to confess
I’m a mess
Why live
Wen I’m going to die anyway
Why go thru this pain
Jus to get thru another day?
Why not jus take my own life
Turn off my lights
So I can go to a peaceful place
N let all the pain fade away
This is selfish
So they say
But in the end
All I hav is myself
So y can’t I do this?
I’m scared
Regardless of my death wish
Wat would happen after I die?
I don’t want God or my family
To think I’m selfish
Or a failure
I don’t want to go to “hell”
But what does the pain n sadness in my heart suggest?
Why live with a mind full of distress
Idk
I can’t see what’s in front of me
I can’t think clearly
I don’t know how to do life correctly
I’m aging day by day
Slowly wasting away
Is this wat u call being grown up?
So why do I wait and procrastinate?
Why can’t I do and say things right?
I feel like a waste of space
I feel like why even try
Wen everything I do turns out wrong
I can’t predict the future
I can’t see the end result
How can I go from point A to B wen the path is unknown to me
Take it day by day they say
But procrastination takes place
Then what?
Priorities are a must
It’s hard to make up my mind
Idk what I really want in life
I feel dead inside
N all the bad things I c
Increases this feeling I hav in me
I’m weak
I’m weak
I don’t know how to go about life with this feeling
I know
I need help
But even with help
I can’t see how it’s going to work out for me
How do I change my way of being?
How do I change my thinking?
How can I be more than who I am now?
How can I make my family proud?
For the first time in my life
I need God to comfort me.

Genre: LGBT, Hate, Dark, Sad, Death, Purpose, Life, God

eyes on you, by Brooke Nind

trying to fly under the radar doesn’t work out
when you can’t squeak by without a squeak
you feel invisible most of the time, yet you
draw the most attention to yourself with these
little, insignificant movements of your body

the squeaking of a chair in class as you shift your
weight from one side to the other, or try to sit up
straighter; it brings eyes to your blushing face
that no one’s looked up at in a while

we’re not always noticed for the things we’re
proud of, but we’re often noticed for what we’re
embarrassed of. however, there’s also these
little in-betweens- you’re just living and breathing,
and you’re noticed. isn’t that comforting?

Genres: inspirational, hope, society

link: https://myhighschooladventures.travel.blog/2020/03/14/eyes-on-you-poem-by-me/

Read Poem: The Journey, by Sneha Bhatt

Nothing in this world you own,
Not even your flesh or bone.
What can you give when you are unknown?
The journey you take is always alone.

Why then are we loitering here?
Why then do we have companions dear?
Why even commence this expedition at all?
When the periphery wall stands always tall.

This voyage is to assimilate experiences rich,
To accumulate them for next journey switch.
Bestow empathy, love, compassion, featherlight your soul,
For that’s the only way for the next better journey to enroll.

– sneha bhatt