Read Poem: 65 Valentines, by David Ehrgott

There were sixty-five
valentines for you
I colored the one from me
your favorite blue
I didn’t know
the whole world loves you too
with sixty-four adversaries
I guess we could be through

So did they all say
“I Love You”
or “be mine today
& every day
I want to be your valentine
Be Mine”

or did they say that “I
only want to love you”
and after twenty solid years
could it really be we’re through

There were sixty-five
valentines for you
I colored the one from me

your favorite blue

Read Poem: A DREAM ALIVE, by Pranjit Das

A Dream Alive

1.
Reconciliation of some dreams old,
But I have lost seeing such dreams, long back
Since days, many months and years ,
Even ages and eras are gone,
Yet such dreams emerge as wild hounds/ dogs.

2.
Tireless lake sees the oldest pale lady,
Wandering on it’s shore in twilight.
How she turns my dream scary, gradually,
With her laughter dipped in melancholy,
An atmosphere gloomy with the sad song singing,
“..home, will my Sona return…”

3.
Hand in hand, walking with my grandfather,
Crossing the same wooden bridge every day!
Across which I discover his bloodied body
On the footpath lying,
Struggling a breath but can’t,
As he already dead!
The dream grow more frightful.

4.
Waiting eternally under the same Pine
With a heart palely heavy.
Promises get broken,
Break not such dreams.
My body goes chilling cold!
May be a heartless body destined so.
Genre- Philosophical

Read Poem: Take My Hand, by Remi Delaplace

Come wander with me,
In these hallowed
halls of endless night.

Where I will show you,
Many things
of horror and delight.

Faint whispers hiss while
Shadows shift
and flit behind your back.

Tattered curtains sigh
Those swaying
shades of lovely black.

Candle flames flicker,
As we haunt
rooms dusty and decayed.

Eyes ever watching
From paintings
whose colors start to fade.

Mournful howls from wolves
Who prowl woods
Below a rising moon.

Hear them, the children
Of the night,
How beautiful they croon.

You smell so lovely,
We embrace
Before the windowsill.

These hands may be cold
But my dear,
My lips are colder still.

Read Poem: Grotesque, by Saige White

It’s grotesque sometimes.

Pumped blood that flows through your heart, through your varied limbs.

Specifically flowing through your arm.

Now displaced into tiny splattered specks on the bathroom floor.

Displaced on a metal spoon, with undersides charred.

Displaced into plastic syringes peaking out the smallest pocket in your duffel bag.

Straight and narrow.

Your life will never be straight and narrow.

Not even for a glimpse. And a glimpse this was.

Three months, and the path was mowed, wide.

Winding, in places this path was never meant to guide.

And I feel grotesque this time.

My own beating heart stretching, pulling on either side.

Asking my mind: are we angry? are we sad?

Always wishing to forgive, but those images never leave our head.

Of displaced blood in that plastic syringe.

Read Poem: MOTHERS LULLABY, by Austin Musick

OH HOW OUR MOTHERS
GAVE US THIS RHYTHMIC BEAT
A PULSE FUELED BY FIRE
WITHIN HER SELFLESS FEAT
WHILE SHE SWINGS
TO AND FRO
TIL WE SLIDE
LIKE THE TIDE
OUT OF HER
TOWARDS THE LIGHT

HER VOICE THE BEACON
A MELODIC GUIDE
THAT WE KNEW BEFORE KNOWING,
THAT WE RECOGNIZED
BEFORE WE COULD SEE
BEFORE THERE WERE LINES
BLIND AS WE FLOATED
SO WILLINGLY

BLIND IN BOUNDLESS DARK
YET UNAFRAID
ALL THE WHILE SHE WOULD SING
COME WHATEVER MAY
HER LULLABY

A SONG OF LOVE
AND NO GOODBYES
HER LULLABY
INSIDE WE’D SLUMBER
SAFE FROM ALL THINGS
BUM BUM BUM
BUM BUM BUM
SAFE AND SOUND
SHE WOULD SING
HER LULLABY

ITS WHEN I MISS HER
OR WHEN IM LOOSING ME
I LISTEN FOR THAT SOUND
OF WHAT I CANT SEE
THAT SAME SOUND THAT SHE GAVE TO ME

BUM BUM BUM
MY OWN HEART
AS IT THUMPS AND IT BEATS
BUM BUM BUM
BEFORE WITHIN HER
AS WE SWAYED AS ONE BEING

Read Poem: BROTHERHOOD, by Margaret Jeune

2.1.2020

Black clouds drift across the sky

The wind has blown smoke across the Tasman Sea

From the massive bush fires in Australia

The tragedy is depicted daily on the TV News

It is translated into a visible poignant reminder

Of what is happening in Australia

An Australian cricketer is interviewed on the radio

He says that he is lucky to play international cricket

While so many of his fellow Australians are suffering

The New Zealand cricket captain says that losing to Australia

Is put into perspective by the sheer scale of suffering in Australia at present

This tragedy is unfolding in front of our eyes

Margaret Jeune

New Zealand

Read Poem: CHANGES ARE COMING, by Jacqueline Mead

In the midst of the night
When silence surrounds
A terrible tragedy was waiting to be found

Tom, a small child, sat up in his bed
Pulling the duvet up over his head
He silently shook
Scared to speak out
Not knowing what the rumbling noise outside was about

Tom slowly rose from his bed
He went to find his parents room
They would know what to do

When Tom reached the room he sought
The number of Parents it contained, was nought
Quietly Tom tiptoed down the stairs
Careful not to bump into any chairs

Still, any adults he couldn’t find
Home Alone the movie, sprang to mind
He searched for the switch on the wall
From which a glowing light would fall

Tom shed some light upon the floor
And lit the path to the back door
Bravely he turned the handle
And quietly walking in his sandals
Took a sneaky peak outside
He couldn’t believe what he saw
His eyes stretched very wide

The biggest tree Tom had ever seen, in his very short life, had fallen down!
And all the adults Tom had sought plus others, were standing in a circle looking at the tree
They were trying to devise a plan, they could all agree

“How did it happen?” Tom heard someone say
“I know” said Tom who was very bright
“Maybe I can shed some light”
“I heard a man on the news say, climate change is happening not tomorrow but today”
Tom continued “very soon the Planet as we know it, will be changed, from excessive heat and excessive rain”
“But today where we live in the Forest, men are cutting down the trees”
“to allow progress and build roads for cars, we are taking away the Earth’s lungs to breathe”
The adults listened to what Tom had to say and all agreed with the young lad.
But what to do about it, if they did nothing, then very soon
There would be no green areas for the children to play, and this made the group very sad.

The group decided to raise a petition and present it to the Top
Cutting down healthy trees must now stop
For every tree we cut down, new ground for seedlings must be found
As a Town we could do more
No more plastic bags, something we should explore
Recycling our waste, we must unite
Let’s start thinking about our carbon footprint tonight
Make a change to our electricity and our gas, someone explained
We could purchase energy that is made 100% from wind sun and rain.

Tom couldn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing
Here in his back garden a council meeting was taking place
Agendas were being made

It was only a small step in Toms world but all the same
If this was happening over and over in other Towns around the world, there would be bigger rewards to gain
And not just in Toms world either but all around the Globe
Fishes would live longer no plastic bags to get caught in their gills or small plastic pellets to ingest
This would be one change they could immediately put to the test.
They would have a plastic bag amnesty; people could return their old plastic bags and get a town embossed shopping bag made from 100% cotton thread
The adults were elated with the changes they were to mak
They were hoping to see the changes make a difference where they lived
It was only a little effort but it showed such promise to give

Tom was excited and tired
Retreated back to bed
He could rest now, his Town was in safe hands
His Mum and Dad plus others stayed outside to make their plans

Sometimes it takes small person to pick up a big fight

(c) Jacqueline Mead

Genre

Poetry, General, Climatechange

Read Poem: Read Poem: Nobody Wins, by Imina F. Edebiri

http://www.shemademewrite.com

Things are different now, roles are reversing

Smiling to conceal the frown, accrued pains without healing

So many fragile egos

We’re walking on eggshells of emotions

We’re too quick to pass judgements now and condemn

Each party think they’re so righteous and clean

We can persist to no good end

But really, nobody wins

The femmes have become hell bent

On passing chores to the gents

The gents want to be free of responsibilities

Pointless fights and arguments, but nobody wins

We jump into relationships blind

Then break up right quick or marry just for the title

Of course, when things go south we unbind

And wonder why divorce rates are so high

Only a few have found their missing ribs

They’re the lucky ones

The rest of us are yet to realize

That time for us is nigh

It used to be love your neighbor as you would love yourself

Now it’s more like, “my love is for sell”

Treat others the way you want to be treated

No, we have more hypocritical habits

We seem to have forgotten the love stories our parents told

We’d rather play these toxic games, than fold

This is getting old, and frankly, so are we

I’m speaking to my generation, we’ve lost our guarantee

Girls fall for what they hear

So guys became more crafty with their words

Guys fall for what they see

So girls became more deceiving with their looks

We recycle these toxic traits

Make unhealthy decisions on a whim Clench our fists and grit our teeth

Ready to damage the next victim

Tongue sharpened, ready to go to war with words, fueling hate

Whatever happened to healing each other with love, only a few can relate

If we took a step back

Maybe we could make amends

Maybe we could get back on the right track

Let’s be our real selves rather than pretend

Because, at the end of this war,

Nobody wins

The poem above, as well as the many others I have written, belong to the genres; Death, Family, Fear, Friendship, Hurt, Life, Love, Painful, Personality, Relationships, Rhyme, Romantic, Sad, Heartbreak, sexual and Sensual.

Nobody Winss

Read Poem: Saving Planet Earth, by Sarada Gray

(from a genre called the Golden Shovel using the first two lines of Marvell’s ‘To His Coy Mistress’)

It’s running out, what little time we had
yet there are still deniers who say we
need more research: we’re always hearing ‘but’
while, hurrying near, destruction of the world
approaches. Have we time to do enough?
Reverse the harm, refreeze the ice-caps and
cool the air down? Can it be done in time?
For as Naomi Klein has written, This
Changes Everything. There’s no room for coyness
or deep denial: she’s our Leading Lady.
If we can’t soon return to where we were
the answer to all questions will be no.
Which universe will then forgive our crime?

© Sarada Gray, 2020