Read Poem: SWEET LITTLE BOY by Anamica Kumari

sweet little boy
sleeping soundlessly in my arms
a little drunk and a little clingy
he always reminds me
of how scared i’ve always been of loneliness
of how scared i’ve always been
of sleeping alone in a cold bed
when i’m seventy and sick
he always reminds me
of how i always believed myself
to be not loveable enough
especially when i first met him
for i wasn’t that feisty or insane
how i believed he must have liked his girls too
and he was everything that i wanted
i was a cry baby and i’d get down
on my knees too easily
you’d ask for anything and i would never say no
and so i believed he’d get bored of me too easily
for he was the kind who liked to be teased
with little games of tug-of-war
and liked having it crazy
oh honey sweet
when i look in your eyes
you always remind me
of why i’ve always loved the universe
for its mysteries so much
there’s a pleasure in loving something
that scares you just as much
and you scare me like life itself
i do not know what you see
when you look at me
i do not know why or how you say you love me
or for how long you can say you love me
for there’s only so long
you can be crazy for
for no matter how much you love the universe
you never get to stay
but oh sweet little thing
sleeping soundlessly in my arms
this, right now, will always be remembered
you taking off your guard onto the floor
pouring your sun in my hands next
like there’s no one you could trust more
and coming undone in my arms
like there’s no other home where you’d rather be
and promising me that you love me
this will always be remembered
and begged for
this will always stay
even when we let go.

-anamica

WordPress: https://atomsandvoid214945416.wordpress.com

Genre of the poem: romantic, sad, relationship, love

Read Poem: Your Eyes by Badradeen Mohammed

When the eyes look at the eyes
it is always a normal look

but when yours look at mine
it is definitely something else

I feel like there is no one in the room
except you, your eyes
and me looking at them

my blood pressure goes up
and suddenly down
with no signs of balance

I feel my body going outside the scope of gravity
and realize all what Franklin had said about similarities in physics
is true

and your eyes prove Newton wrong
as I fall up in front of them
not down as that poor apple did

and then, I forget about her and them
about me or him
about where and when

all I see is just you
with your adorable eyes

I see scattered messages all over the space of your eyes
I try to collect them
open them

read them or even translate them into love signs
but I seem to always draw blanks

I travel through your eyes
to the mazes of their charm

trying to manipulate the reality
but whenever I feel I almost got there

just something or someone interrupts our silence
and a pale smile will be drawn on my face

they are quite bossy, and like twisters
your eyes

I mean, I used to read girls eyes
but yours!
I’ve never seen as such as them

and I used to be a damn romantic
but time has played me roughly

so I can’t distinguish your romance
from your being nice

I admit the fact that I love them
and figured out my level of understanding

still hasn’t reached the level of your eyes speech so
I got high tonight

I thought might I, could I, be able to read messages
that your eyes had sent to mine from that point of highness
but I came from my journey with nothing but confusion

every time I try to run away from your eyes
I eventually bump into them

even tonight when I decided not to think of them
I accidentally wrote this poem

Read Poem: The Hot Air Artist by Roger Hayman

He’s a loudmouth and a scholar
With tales that shock and stun
A murder mystery solver
A raconteur bar none
He beats the bookies, taxman too
He knows just what to say
He lost his shirt in Monaco
And won it back next day

He’s not a half-glass-empty man
For him the glass is full
He’ll talk the hind leg off a donkey
And the nose-ring from a bull
Not knowing about a subject
He goes on undeterred
He’ll talk about a shaggy dog
And you’ll hang on every word

He sees off cryptic crosswords
And complex maths for fun
He swims ten thousand metres
And runs a marathon
He crushes most opponents
At tennis, squash or pool
And wont take any prisoners
Or suffer any fool

He doesn’t hire brokers
And won’t pay any fees
And no one sees him passing
They only feel the breeze
He never wears a life belt
Or clings to any raft
He’s never needed any loan
Or had an overdraft

He has no ambition,
Pinnacle or quest
And is no control freak
It’s just he knows what’s best
But like a raging torrent
That runs through open locks
He’s a garrulous, bombastic
Outrageous chatterbox!

Read Poem: THE DIRECT VELVET ROUTE by Elizabeth Marino

GENRE:
Social Engagement/Intersectional Feminism

THE DIRECT VELVET ROUTE

Troops know that the truest /
way to an enemy’s anguish /
is through the direct velvet route /
of vagina, mouth, or anus/
of his wife or young daughter,/
preferably in front of him./
It a time-tested war crime, that/
struggles to be named as such.//

Here at home, the common/
“I want some of that”/
muttered from a park bench,/
or as he gets off a public bus/
following a young girl./
Studies report a child-woman’s /
appeal peaks at age 13./
My mother once drove over/
a curb as a man leached after/
a neighbor’s 12-year-old daughter
/entering a grocery store./
Thick blackgirl thighs and woman hips./ She looks so grown, she /
must be grown. What child?/
“I want some of this.”//

As pirates cruise the West Coast of/ Africa, and desperate parents/
take small sums to ensure /
domestic traing, a possible life abroad. /Hope beyond hope,/
then really not want to know,/
as the dream ships sail away.//

On a nice night, it would be good/
to go out for a walk. I hear my own/
mother’s voice saying Don’t go./
There are bad men out there./
The small woman enwrapped in/
a simple green sari has been/
in the States for three weeks. A small,/ proud smile.Where is Chicago? she asks./
Security finds her apartment,/
and asks me to see her upstairs/
to her unlocked apartment.//

“Life doesn’t frighten me” wrote/
Maya Angelou. But it does./
Truly, it does. The detailed catalogues of/ violence to girls and
women shut us down./
There are no longer stages/
for girls to play at future sexual selves,/ to flirt in earnest without consequence./
Her gaze — direct, sure and unaffected -/
laughter in her eyes.//

There must be a way to slip/
our fingers deep into the earth/
all at once, and right its orbit.//

— Elizabeth Marino
Copyright 2018

Read Poem: Empty by BeNjamyn Upshaw-Ruffner

There isn’t any meaning

It floats here inside, the burning I’m feeling.

Paths into the shadows, my mind always takes,

Will emotion never truly appear?

A burning sensation is floating here.

Perched upon the razor’s edge,

I waltz towards this cold cliff’s ledge.

Before my Self, a warm canyon beckons,

I fall, and to reason I deafen.

In search of color, I find but darkness which conceals,

It always spells doom, for the one who feels!

This time is different, I tell my Self and you,

Sifting through darkness, I hope to find your hue.

If not, I may tell my Self there can’t be meaning,

To stop the horrors of what I am seeing,

To quash the rot, which erupts from my heart,

I select my purpose, and try to start.

Towards peace, future knowledge will push me,

Swimming through murky waters, into a beautiful sea.

Termites of truth, gnaw at my bones,

After I fall, I won’t be alone.

I created the meaning

Genre are: Anxiety, Dark, Emotion, Family, Fear, Friendship, Hope, Hurt, Inspirational, Life, Love, Motivational, Painful, Personality, Philosophical, Relationships, Rhyme, Sad, Willpower

Read Poetry by Alexius Brunson

Genre- Darkness, Sadness, Resentment

Dear unjust man
How cruel you could be
For 3 months
Oblivious to thee

The tears I cried
Because of you
The hard times experienced
Because of you
What am I to do
That pain
I don’t want to feel ever again

Dear unjust man
How cruel you could be
For 3 months
Oblivious to thee

The loss of possession
Resonates so deep
Will live forever
That shame
Can never be topped
Home, place of content
Will never be what it once was

Dear unjust man
How cruel you could be
For 3 months
Oblivious to thee

Read Poem: Memories by Iddris Nyande

They have all become memories;
The world, the people, the walk.
All of which are behind my head,
The pictures as of days ahead, yet dead and gone.

Memories of the times on earth

where we rode,

The places we sat to oversee God’s Judgment.

When the rivers turned to blood;
When they became pure;
We saw!

Standing where the twelve stones fell;
Here we became family;
We saw!

That they have all become memories;
Days we remember;
Our souls yearned for someone to save us;

A man who grew from amongst us
but God sent from above us;
We saw!

Salvation gripping our trains;

that our flights went higher in dimensions:
Kingdoms in the air we built and today we’re here, we sit.

All have become memories;
These places where we rode.
On the back of horses, as Kings selected for the throne even before our eyes were opened.

Yet we had Hates and repeated failures.
We listened to trending rules,
People became indifferent towards us.

Humans delivered Justice;

a wrong step they took;

Because when the tables turned,

we judged them on this mountain;
the city of God.

We saw!

That they have all become memories;
When our Faith became too little to produce fruits;
And our sons became blind walkers;

Memories that for a while,
We saw demons with friendly faces;
And Angels with huge scars.
Yet we weren’t moved unto confusion.

Our confidence was in God; Unmovable.

Hope held us on!

Now we’re here;
Beholding all these things with loud smiles;

Seeing that perfection has made us now.
Our souls now have the flow of God.
The earthly Tabernacles;
Perhaps the worms beneath

these eyes we carry have had their shares of it.
The flesh of Gods.

Ahah!

What a glorious time is,
To live life.

What an opportune time it is to say;
Earth is now a memory!

Iddris Nyande

Read Poem: Knocking on the Door of My Heart by Vivian Dixon Sober

Knock, Knock, Knock, Knock
It’s been a long time since I felt my heart
But that’s what happened when our spirits merged

My heart was crushed
My girlfriends said they’d had enough
They don’t want to hear about that man again
Not his name
Not his game

He’d been my husband
A man I couldn’t shake
Until we went to hear the musicians play

When I entered the club
I was in the moment
You sat at the bar looking at me from afar
And walked across the room
To ask me if I was married

I said no
Everything becoming mystical
We sat down and our spirits merged
Felt like a refreshing breeze
I was free

I felt you knocking on the door of my heart
The door opened and you came through
I was finally free of the man who had haunted me
Knock, Knock
I felt you knocking on the door of my heart
You and I
You and I on the same plane if just for a short time

We danced
Our minds became instruments that were in sync
Our souls merged
Felt like a mystical breeze
You whispered Queen
My Queen

Your presence set my soul free
I’m not easy
I’m a woman connecting with my man

And you are my man
Knocking on the door of my heart
I am renewed
So glad I met you
Just like that you were the only love I knew
Mystical

I’m not easy
Knock, Knock
I heard you knocking on the door to my heart
Dear God
Thank you
I felt you knocking on the door of my heart

Vivian Dixon Sober
©2018

Read Poem: #Luv by Dimple Mapari

# ♥ LUV ♥ #

#Luv,

da most beautiful filin# ♥♥
awsm # amazn#Luv # Luv # Luv#♥♥♥!
like # care# and share#
snapchat# fb # twitter declare
I am # we are in luv #
Dis is 4 da world to kno#
U complete da incomplete side of me#
U r ma universe# u changed ma life#
And all those cheesy lines#
Fb says I luv u # twitter says u luv me#
Snapchat instagram validate it.
Dp , status profile pic
Only two of us  #
but wait…
……….. (error) error 404#
# the heart is not responding,
U don’t hav time for me#
I saw u wid som1 else#
Chats mute, instagram silent,
Dps changed ,
Static status# calls # today 400 times#
Missed calls # sorry I was in hurry#
Could not take it#
Could not make it#
Fb pages removed, edited # blog posts deleted,
Messangers mute, last seen at one minute ago#
No conversation#
Online # no messages #
Restless #
Lonely dps# painful profile pics, aching hearts
Sorrowful # dejected #
Deserted emojis # stickers#
Silent phones ♫ #
tones # ringtones ♪ #
# the subscriber has moved out of coverage area
#the subscriber is on another call
#kindly stay tuned…
#leave your message after a beep….
# the number your are calling is switched off,
#the number you are calling does not exist———–



#luv # lost # left # removed # deleted #
status # Available….

By- Dimple D. Mapari,
Akola,
Maharashtra

Read Poem: Life on Mars by Lea Galanter

from Camille Patha, “Sunset (Beach Fever Series),” 1978

I remember
coming up from below
during the few times
we dared show
our faces, our bodies
the red sky matching
the garnet necklace
a gift from my grandmother
on my sixteenth birthday
me now a woman

I’d pick the few blades
of what had managed to survive
rub the green-brown between my fingers
feel its softness
my mother’s cheek
now lost in the blueness
she too wild to contain
had wanted to ride
with the waves

— Lea Galanter