Read Poem: ALL MIGHTY PEN, by Sujoy Bhattacharya

Your pen should be drinking
briny horror .
Your must delve into the
murky grave .
Your pen ought to revile
at stupid generosity .
Your pen has to add salt to
human injury bleeding .
Your pen must open the
wounds of love to infection .
Your pen would make aflame
the flag of humanity
Your pen must write elegy over
the carcass of agony .
Your pen would fly the kite
of aroma of blatant treachery .
Your pen must ooze out venom
of velocity of vicious crime .
Your pen has to shower a deluge
of opprobrium to eulogy .
Your pen rinses the blood of
sublimity in the brook of notoriety .
Your per must kill the embryo
to make prosperity unproductive.
Your pen would add adulteration
to beguile the profaneness of purity .
Your pen would throw acid bulb
to deform the face of rejected love .
Your pen might travel to alien
land to pollute the environment of that planet .
Your pen would make the amnesty
throttled to death by the ruthless tong of severity .
Your pen must cripple the mobility
of a restless antelope of racing Impala boastful .
Your pen would punish Othello
for indulging faithlessness in immaculate love of Desdemona.
Your pen ought to exile Homer
for writing the epics – Iliad and Odyssey immortal .
Your pen must mute all the vibrant
voices singing the psalm of truthfulness.
Your quill would obviously make other
pens blunt to raise insolent insurrection .

Read Poem: WE WHO, by R.J Britten

Labels spoken, given, intended,
Causing responses making you look,
Intrinsically judged before even known,
We
All suffer deep down internally.

Lives built on labels, whether told in truth or self-seeking culminations.
We strive aiming for peace, clutching at vapours
Believing in fallacies.

Each and everyone, a poor reflecting facade
To mindful of intrinsic dreams,
we neglect our closest opportunities.

Broken souls, all tainted by poison of the same,
To fearful to speak and learn that we are in great need.

Walls built, masks worn, lives torn, the great long earthly sojourn.

When all is done away with
It’s only love that should truly remain.

©R.J Britten

Read Poem: SELF DESTRUCTION, by Misty Manor

Genre: motivation, inspiration, pain, self discovery, life,

Didn’t really understand it then
the heartache and pain I endured
Lured by the devils deception
I found myself oblivious to my own demise
Aimlessly existing with no plan or mission
My vision became obscurred by my own negative assumptions of me
A reality, I grew all to accustomed to
bruised and battered from life’s low blows
I lash out to those innocent bystanders
caught in the crossfire
My desire to find purpose no longer appeased me
Easily affixed with all things self-destructing
I find temporary alleviation
Self-medicating the pain away.
Detached from my emotions,
I appear visible to the naked eye
Yet, Invisible within
Uncertain of what the future may hold
I refuse to succumb to self inflicted internal injuries sustained along the way
In turn I pray for the creator to intervene
Saving me from a deadly encounter with self
Reviving my mission to exist
I persist past the pain once designed to annihilate me
Now the kryptonite used as fuel to enhance me!
Stronger then ever before
I soar far beyond where my dreams could’ve ever taken me
Renewed and inspired,
appreciative of life’s jaded path constructed precisely for me
molding me into an imperfect masterpiece

Read Poem: A New Season, by Melba Christie

For some unexplained reason
clergy, pastors, preachers and rabbis
created a whole new season

No explanation would suffice
everyone wondered on whose advice
this decision was made

We can only hope
something good emerges
like the sun does from behind the clouds
or like when an opus is born
Some consider this whole thing a phenomenon
perhaps even an omen
Did Nostradamus forewarn us?
A prophecy perhaps
of what we all knew would happen?
“Peace is not a season.” someone said.
It is or should be a way of life.
A season free of strife,
Can it possibly be true?
It’s up to me and it’s up to you.

Read Poem: Grow, Soul of Child, by Panda Boy

That smell is a smell so dear to me,
A hint of childhood past.
One with even bad memory,
Would recognise at last.

If that past has passed your memory,
Then future be on your present.
But if the future is unsure,
You are sure to be unpleasant.

Abused and fatherless
Or pampered and spoilt.
The clues shrouded in
Your very own mind.

Do not be the one who abandoned,
Don’t be the one who achieves.
Be the one who has the will
To conquer your fears.
For only then you will grow,
Soul of child.

Genre: Motivational, Kids, History

Read Poem: Mannaz, by Lawrence Mathebula

Your only days, and nights to live,
On earth thy heart to theirs, you may give
Love to all earthly creatures;
From brothers to thy sisters,
Too they sooner should return;
It’s one cycle changing, turns
With time and days, swiftly, we
Shan’t disband humanity
But throngs and unions gather
Around the world and further
In foreign places, the near
In foreign ones over there,
Is the other souls, similar,
The body that which you are.

Inspired by the runestone: Mannaz.

Read Poem: UNDER ONE BIG SKY!, by La Gina O. Gross

My sky is cloudy filled with nebulous clouds and ominous linings threatening to destroy any light!
Under my sky, I see the homeless … digging, searching, clawing for filthy pennies, dimes and nickels in sidewalks, alleyways, graveled streets and in muddy, puddles that are sunburned chocolate.
Hear the instruments playing?
See them dancing wildly, without consciousness screaming loudly in silence saying:
“I am cold”,
“I am hungry”
“I am poor”,
Please Give More!
Do You See Them Under Our One Big Sky?
Or is your sky filled with frivolous shopping, mall hopping,
and self to self- selfie swapping. You proclaim they could
Live Better! Be better! Do better!
So you just better throw it all on black and let the roulette wheel spin and spin … until you see beauty under our one big sky.

Under my sky, I’m shuffling youthful teens to their destiny with our eyes closed.
“Straighten your ties”,
“Straighten your lies” and
“Straighten your attitudes”. “
“Go straight home”, “Please be safe” Never argue with a cop, when you’re stopped …
Comply, Comply as you reach towards our sky!
“Reach for the unseen to get the things you will see…
Please boys and girls- Listen to me!!
Do You Hear Us Under Our One Big Sky?
Or does the chatter of the young bother you?
Do you hope they don’t follow you?
As you quickly pass … Do you ask?
What dreams can I help you fulfill?
Is your hope a part of my destiny and will?
Are you our future?
Do you see a future?
Can we truly hope for a future under our one big sky?

Can we share it? Do we dare it? Could we bare it?
Or do we continue in collusion, disguised by confusion, just to make the same conclusion?
If our hearts take the risk… Maybe, we could exist-collaborating, participating, anticipating and
Yes! thanking our God for being the ALMIGHTY under our one big sky.
I pray for our grace so we can stand face to face without blaming each another….
Realizing Suddenly ….
We were just separated in fear, so let’s wipe our tear;
We Now Know Why we’re Here!
To serve each other because we deserve one other.
Let’s hug and embrace!
Open our hearts and trace …
Our colorful, contrasting footprints colliding into our skies and creating a million rainbows UNDER OUR ONE BIG SKY!!

Written by La Gina O. Gross

Read Poem: FEELINGS ARE NOT THE ENEMY, by Chisala Kataya

I came across lost paper,
the waters washed it ashore.
The letters on it a fervent thing,
I could hear the whispers,
in my ear I know they witnessed me feel.
The shaken boys screams inside me aloud.
Say see the face,
stay clear of that darkened yet glowing smile.
Says it’s that ice that burns wild like dragon fire.
That it’s that dark essence that eludes your senses.
It’s the smile already fallen from grace into depravity,
nothing you can take any further than the darkness it already is.
She the siren whose voice never sleeps,
my mind her orchestra.
She plays the blues.
In this house,
my fragile house made up of too many broken bricks.
Stained, without colour,
a plethora of dark corners that should have never existed.

I see the journey ahead,
then count the steps like my upward thoughts would make me forget about my fall after.
Like the sound of her voice was never the right note,
like she always made sad music in the words that she spoke.

The winds that blow from the East remind me of sad places.
Desolate,
abandoned wastelands,
ghosts of things that were and were not.
Fires that burned bared skin,
but not the ground long enough to make them known.
I get cut in places they never realise have been cut before,
like the smile I’d give them was just a distraction.
Like the feelings inside,
that danced around were the real enemy that I’d tried to ignore.
I’d ignore the mirrors,
the broken ones too,
anything that would reflect,
because I’d feel enough darkness inside to wanna see the raging war.

I smile,
like good guys should.
And pick up the lost paper,
that these waters washed ashore.

Read Poem: D0DG3 TH1S, by Asanda Sigenu

i write this in a drunken state with a sober mind and clear conscious
my distaste in the lie of Political Correctness feeds me lies in my dreams as cringe at every sound through my walls
so here i sit, with nothing but utter disgust at everything around me
and yet this thought of this letter sweetens my discord with all

And so

To you, you degenerate and low life

You who feeds on her undying capacity to love and forgive
You who feed her sweet nothings and rotten somethings covered in fragrances
You are nothing but a piece of filth
You are lower than filth
Preying on her naivety, of your false exterior of goodness
You are not a people – you are lower than the worms that crawl inside rats

The mere fact that you are unable to look within and see the disgust that i see is enough proof that you are what you are, sub human
Death would be to good for you, for this life you live is more than anything hell can conceive
No devil has ever been more debased and vile than you

You look at that innocent face and see nothing but your own desires being fulfilled
Your words are a poison no one should ever be subjected to but subject them you do

Spreading this disease you call reality when in truth it is but a mere perception of what you were subjected to in your own youth
Like a rape victim who denies what has happened to them your psyche has been morphed and tormented into the very thing you hate, a predator

Why do i even bother to say this you wonder, i say what i say so that you know who it is who will hunt and stalk you
Who it is that will watch you and follow you, prey on you as you prey on sheep

For as you i was subjected to the tyranny of madness but now my eyes washed clean and for the first time i truly see
In life you will torment them, so i will torment you
In death you will find no rest for i will follow you through to the ends of time

I am no hero and no heroine
I am the vengeance of innocence, arisen from the depths of a broken heart

My word shall be the last you will hear in the morning and first you will hear in the night

I shall be the demon in your shadow reminding you for all eternity of the evil you have done