Weinstein looked for
creative friction in sex
she always sought
non procreative sex
in life and business
they condemn both
–Ram Krishna Singh
Weinstein looked for
creative friction in sex
she always sought
non procreative sex
in life and business
they condemn both
–Ram Krishna Singh
A low-slung mist
stultifies the LA sunscape, setting the stage to play
the part of a rainforest’s cupola.
But rain doesn’t come
even though I am ready.
Boots and sweater, and a nameless
heartache to accompany
my attire,
hibernation
at times suits me,
but these days, these years,
I can ill-afford the luxury
of wallowing, of pining, of yearning.
Today, through the trenches of a familar
yet unknown abyss,
I cradle myself,
filled with a boundless love,
as intricate and vast
as the stuff of dreams.
A runner, springy and supine,
passes as I sit.
I feel catatonic but my soul,
a burbling brook, joyously knows
the routes of God.
Knows the loving hands that hold me
like a child holds a love-worn doll,
perfectly beautiful to eyes
that have seen all its years,
limbs gone missing,
hair brushed out of its head,
a marble eye rolled down a drain,
smudges that have turned to stains
forever,
I am loved that way.
– Ariel Westberg
A flower fussed her scent in the vast of a drought field.
Craving to lure an amusement that surely will strengthen her built.
Leers peculiarly to subjected attraction yet moans an impassioned lilt.
She naively guarded herself with her own thorns to feel the comfortable guilt.
Stagnant cycle of season slithers past her unascertained heed.
Leaves, petals, and even her stigma flourished brightly to be curtsied.
Rattled by edginess by mused idea of affection grunts harder to concede.
Utterly unaware with those luxuriant insects who meanders around quite honeyed.
Kismet turned dearly frazzle as her stack’s delusion and realization bleaks to morose.
Professed stipulation to weave off shadiness of other insect to propose.
Her gorgeous blades started to cloak as her desire substantially discompose.
Hatred consumed her entire sense that even her resented fragrance fizzles as overdose.
A moment clinched as she confined herself while lurking inside her sepals.
Felt sudden annoyance to the bizzare guise of the wild flowers acting like crystals.
“No bees, butterflies, nor bugs shall descend on how you ramble.” she jabber thus bestial.
All smirk shifted to fiery glare as she expresses mockery dry down and dull.
Colony of bees roamed fully while she rested deeply in her own stems of lair.
Awakened by the empathetic drone then made her furious even if it’s just to stare.
Witnessed the riot over some nectar that she ever dreamed expression to be fair.
“I am dazzled with beauty, glamour, else perfection. Am I not attractive enough?” she begged to differ.
Miserably hid in silence to avoid the spikes forming in her cold dark heart.
“Enticing yet delicate” blasted by the butterfly whilst completely amazed by her come apart.
Startled by the curious gesture which also made her feel uplifted and continued to impart.
They both felt the strangest and strongest connection implicates that something is yet to start.
The butterfly spent his day to twaddle, gawk, and make her smile with just a distance close by.
“It’s my pleasure to see you bloom, finally.” He divulged. “Come closer.” She excitedly imply.
“I can’t.” he muttered as his face immediately explicit fear, anxiety, and inability to try.
Tension arises as her in-depth wrath constantly spoiled as her stutter outcry.
Day after day, the flower regrets the harsh doubts that made him left without a trace.
Weakened as the eroded damper enchants her entire system to wilt due to haze.
She began to slowly incline and shattered every hope to another phase.
Shock bonded her eyes as she sees the deteriorating familiarity deface.
Unaware that she liberates toxic nectar that harms other insects to death.
All of those who attempted and falls by her enticing scent will soon lose their precious breath.
Around her were diversified possession formed as a tragic beautiful wreath.
All of them will soon be forgotten just as how dust gasts in the isolated brooding heath.
~Curls
12/24/17
Genre: Sadness, Death, Love, Fear, Anxiety
Poetry Readings performed by Val Cole & Carina Cojeen
The Bane of Whitechapel – Poetry Reading by Lee A Forman
Maybe, There Is Still Hope – Poetry Reading by Melissa R. Mendelson
INDIAN SUMMER – Poetry Reading by Vihang A Naik
FRUSTRATION – Poetry Reading by Patricia Marvin
Escape – Poetry Reading by Farzleen F Khan
Beautiful Dead Dragonfly Why – Poetry Reading by James Gaynor
Genre: Redemption
NOISY SILENCE
unemptied
the cup of remorse–
begging bowl
before the dumb deity
years of noisy silence
–Ram Krishna Singh
Genre: Travel (England)
Missed connection
an hour to wait
Walk a circular mile
No beer house in sight
Minutes take hours
Another cigarette
Red diesel fumes
Sickly sweet perfume
Chopped ham and liver
Grantham
peace, why drag supremacy
And fight for superiority?
Why crush silence
And break thine sheath,
That we remain at war?
You waylay unity
And make skulls, your crown
You ambush growth
And arrest development,
Peace, why hate thyself
When you are a gem?
Barefooted, you wander afar
Thirsty, you stand aloof
Hungry, you sink beyond
Lonely, you stray away
Peace, why art thou gone?
Come, peace come
Return, O peace
This earth is broken
This world is bruised,
Come, heal the air
Come, sweep the land
Return, O peace,
Peace! Peace! Be Still!
CLEAR HER DILEMMA (2)
An art so wondrous
Divine in every sense,
A creature so elegant
Creative, gallant and immaculate.
The bravest of creation
Smart, strong and sound
Loving, caring, lovely, careful
The woman, a little god.
Homemade, homemaker
Groomed and grooming
A confident confidant
A loyalist and a faithful
Submissive, calm and resilient.
Pure, genuine companion
Quiet, honest giver
Fair, jealous lover
Godly, decent soulmate.
Save her the drama
Heal her the trauma,
Clean her the stigma
And clear her of the dilemma.
PROFILE
Ngozi Olivia Osuoha is a Nigerian poet/writer, a graduate of Estate Management with experience in Banking and Broadcasting. Her first longest poem THE TRANSFORMATION TRAIN published in Kenya is available on amazon. She has published over eighty poems in over ten countries.
Face to face,
No, face my mind.
Looking within
The dark abyss.
There she lurks
My other half.
Her eyes glow red.
A piercing hue,
That burns right through my inner core.
As she glides across my mind with ease
Hairs stand on end,
Cold clammy skin,
Goosebumps appear
“Lord help, please hear!”
Must face her now.
Must face my fear.
The inner demon
That lives within.
Sleep evermore my love,
Your betraying lies,
Unhinged and broke my heart.
It was the blackest day,
At the brightest hour,
When my love finally soured.
Your despairing pleas,
Failed to sway my forgiveness.
Bang, went the gun, it had to be done.
Splashes of red my only recall,
I did not care, love was no more.
My regrets numbered none.
I’m glad you’re dead,
And but a fading memory,
Yet, I will sleep never-more.