HOPE, by Twinkle Saluja

Life is a never ending vicious cycle
And this is reminder from up above..

If there are toothy grins,
they are always going to be followed by wretched and griefs
If there are days bitterer than the gourd
there will also be those days sweet enough to kill you of diabetes

Every oasis will have a desert surrounding it
You just need to keep your faith alive
and the glint of good hope will always be on your way
You may not always see it
but that’s how, it’s meant to be. Always.

Insta Handle – Twinkle_saluja_


Read Poetry: The Words I Spoke, by Jordan Corley

Genre: Love, Hope, Life

I waited patiently for the world to follow
To adjust
To reset
And comprehend what I had just said
I gave myself the same courtesy
A minute
A day
Maybe two to process their meaning
They weren’t anything special
Nothing spectacular
Nothing memorable
The words that left my mouth
But something felt right
A click
An acknowledgment that maybe
just maybe I was meant to say them
They were meant to be heard
I waited silently for the world to follow
To stop spinning for a second
For just one moment
As I let the words leave my lips
Free my tongue of their grasp
Their power which clung to my thoughts
Through sleep– no sleep
What is sleep when these words are present?
In my thoughts
Through daylight
And menial tasks so often required
To sustain life in this world
To feign sanity
Wrought by a wavering focus
They were nothing to be remembered
Anything but important
To the outside observer
To a distant onlooker
But perhaps that’s why I remembered
The way they felt as I spoke
Why I recited the time
The place
The date of which I said them
Over and over
And over again
In my head
The breath that came before and after
I opened my mouth
The pause between each word
Each syllable
To ensure perfect deliverance
Perhaps that’s why they’ve stuck with me all these months
All these years
They were honest
The last words I said to you

Read Poetry: Finally, by Sophia Ananda

Genre: Hope, Faith, Trust, Love, Insight, Spiritual, Spirit, Spirituality, Soul, Soulful, Connected, Connection, Human, Humans, Peace, Peaceful, Inner peace.

”Hi! How are you?” he asked, 
tired and not prepared for her answer,
when opening his arms.
She did not stop to breathe, instead 
she opened up, nothing smooth about it, 
more like an erupting volcano. 
”I am true generosity
and I am 
the not wanted envy.” 
”I am the purest of white 
and I am the blackness of sorrow,
with tiny streaks of grey.” 
”I am the golden morning light, 
and I am 
the dense evening darkness.” 
”I am in fact the earthly beginning, 
as much as I am
the heavenly end.” 
He sat down and sighed, 
exhausted after a day’s work,
then cleared his throat and whispered.
”Why? What happened?” he asked, 
wiping away the beads of sweat 
on his tanned and wrinkled forehead.
”Me … I heard the real me 
for the first time, 
and it was loud and clear. Just like you.” 
She took his cold, sweaty hand, 
gently touched his cheek and smiled. 
”It was I who finally happened.” 

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Read Poetry: Old Woman….., by Noman Teserak

“……I will be an old lady one day and I will sit on that rock and when I see myself sitting there I see myself happy, with a smile on my face and I feel I have achieved something in this life. I did good and I look at you even if you are not there and say to you: You can be proud of me. This is how much I care for you. This is your effect on me….”

A conversation between a you and an old woman

Old woman !
Look at me: Young, Firm, Virile
My breasts are like pink tufted buds
on the spring azalea
My lips are like the flamingo’s breast –
pink, soft –
My mons – that secret place only we have
is warm, rich, enticing…….

My neck, long and supple
like Helen’s
My eyes are black, olive-round
My smile, would make Mona Lisa blush
with shame.

Old woman !
Were you ever so ?
Did you ever love ?
Did you know passion ?

Look at you……
Your skin droops
Your breasts sag
Your eyes are clouded
Your mons is dry.
Did you ever know love ?

Ah, my young beauty
Once I too was young and beautiful
Men looked at me with longing
I was the object of desire of many.
But two of these, I remember
even in my old age, I remember.

Tell me old woman,
Tell me of your love
Where are these men ?
Where is your love ?
Why do you sit here
on this rock
looking out to sea,
smiling but

My young beauty
I knew a man
who was my husband
I loved him
with my heart and my head
He was my all
I was complete with him
But then, I was destroyed
I found another man

I found I was not complete
I was missing a piece
This other man was my completion
my half.

Oh my young beauty
Oh my daughter
love is a splendid thing
but a dangerous one as well
Like a sword
you may use it to slay your enemies, or
you may handle it poorly
and injure yourself
Such is love

Of my husband I will tell you nothing
This is still too painful to me.
But of the other
Oh my daughter
may I sing to you
of him.

This was a man
older than I
intense as a bonfire
A man who was
unable to love
in half measures

A man who became my greatest love
my friend
my half

A man who once whispered to me
“Let me show you how I would love you”
And, my daughter, he did !
Do not blush
my child
when I tell you that I would see heaven several times in an evening
This was the intensity of the love we had

And more,
we spoke
we walked
we read
we worked

we laughed
we sang – although my daughter a donkey could sing better than he ! –
we read poetry
This man, my half, wrote me poems
from his heart
so much did he love me

But my dear grandmother !
You are alone
Where is this love of yours ?
Why is he not here ?
Is he dead ?
Did you lose him ?
How did you lose him ?

My daughter
Oh my child !
There are men who cannot love in half or quarter measures
he was one.
He frightened me so
He was always afraid I would push him away
even though I said
“I am not doing this”

He was
a strong man
But I watched as he dissolved
into mist

I could no longer touch him
Did I leave him ?
Did he leave me ?
Oh my daughter
love is so fragile
so fragile
A bond that seems strong
can be shredded with a few words.

But my dear grandmother
Where is he ?
Tell me…..

My child,
look over your shoulder
He stands with me still
whispering into my ear
“I love you more than my life”
“I will never leave you”

But he is as a mist
Oh my daughter
My child
we are young but for a moment
We make decisions we think are good
Sometimes, they simply are
Sometimes, we make them without thinking

My child
you will blink and your youth will be gone.
You will be as am I,
on this rock

You will learn to love
And then will lose all
Have I made mistakes ?…

Old woman,
tell me your name….

My child
My great love called me many names
all I cannot repeat here
so much pain could it still cause
But Helen, Persephanie
All these names he called me……
and others

Old woman !
These are my names !
The man I love calls me by these names
Who are you old woman ?
What are you ?

Neither the old nor the young woman knows:
Is this real ?
Is this a dream ?
Is there a chance ?

Is there ?



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Read Poetry: HOPE, by Carole Jones

Genre: bereavement / loss

 Instead of mourning the soul is lost in the wilderness,
wandering thr’u the weary fate of crooked tunnels
to find eternal rainbows of myriad hues.
Then the dawn breaks open and life is re-born,
like the cracking open of shells to hail it’s reincarnation after all is lost.
And it’s depiction of many souls are like leaves on sunlit paths,
finally restored.


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Read Poem: To Save The World, by Patricia Egan

Genre: Awareness, Society, Hope, Painful, motivational


 Cascaded by the edge of fire

Surviving this persecution

Unknown to passing eyes

Life that was meant to save

Not be subject to explicit wear

I was surrounded by hope

Cast into a glorious life

Blinded by the lights

Raised to believe the stories

Ruined by a passing night

Where this story began

Is not for the weakened soul

Blind folded and drugged

Stripped and prodded

Scored by evil

Passed by greed

Gifted to the hidden

Robbed of all faith

Labeled for a life time

Beaten by pleasure

Fondled by many

Bought by blood money

Tears hidden by rain

Rewarded by survival

Cascaded by the edge of fire

Surviving this persecution

Rescued by a passing night

I am surrounded by hope

Where this story ends

A new begins

To save the world


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Read Poetry: Aspirations, by Felicia Smith

Genre: Hope

When you have aspirations
There’s something you hope to achieve
With confidence in your abilities
These things you expect to receive.

When you have aspirations
You wish that your dreams come true
And then you set your plans in motion
So you can do what you have to do.

When you have aspirations
You have a target goal in mind
And with determination to purse it
You go out and get on your grind.

When you have aspirations
And they set your soul on fire
You strive to live out your purpose
And fulfilling your heart’s desire.

~Felicia L. Smith~


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Sedona Noon, Poetry by Cliff Smith

 Genres: Death, Funeral, Hope, Inspirational, Life, Love, Motivational, Philosophical, Redemption, Relationships, Religion, Song.

 Life is so fine here on the line till you cross over.
Lose your mind cause you can’t find your four-leaf clover.

You’ll discover another lover and feel it inside.
Find your mother, love your brother, don’t run and hide.

Sedona noon, Sonoran moon, Saguaro Sunset.
Sing a tune, make love in June, and have no regret.

Feel your worth, measure its girth, trust your value.
From your birth here on this Earth, your spirit shines through.

Living right with all your might, you try to be true.
Turn off the night and seek the light until it blinds you.

Sedona noon, Sonoran moon, Saguaro Sunset.
Sing a tune, make love in June and have no regret.

The flowers bloom, there’s lots of room to reach the sky.
From the womb straight to the tomb, the clouds they pass by.

The mountains rise before our eyes
It’s what we seek to reach the peak.
When all is said, what’s done is done, the words we speak…

Sedona noon, Sonoran moon, Saguaro Sunset
Sing a tune, don’t leave too soon, and have no regret.

When it’s the end, feel it spin, it’s all behind you.
Take a leap, it’s yours to keep, now follow me through…

Sedona noon, Sonoran moon, Saguaro sunsets.
Sing a tune, make love in June and have no regrets.

Sedona noon, Sonoran moon, Saguaro sunset.
Sing a tune, make love in June, don’t leave too soon and have no regret.

Sedona noon, Sonoran moon, Saguaro sunsets.
I sang a tune, made love in June, I left too soon, but have no regrets.


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Missing Home, Poetry by Anyasi Ray

 Genre: Hope, Hurt, Rhyme, Sad, Society and Kids

Home is gone, stolen by our enemy.
Home is broken, and nothing left for me.
Now I live in the wreck of an old van,
And my pillow is a soiled baking pan.
Sweet home, can I find another one new?

Home is not a place there is an army.
Home is where there is daddy and mommy.
Daddy is not here because of a gunman.
Mommy is not here because of a masked man.
The gunman and the masked man, shame on you.

Home is where all my friends are around me.
Home is where I can play with Salami.
I saw a pretty boy in a turban,
I tried to play with him here but he ran.
Why his mom won’t let him, I never knew.

Home is where I always fill my tummy.
Home is where my hunger makes me happy.
I can’t follow mommy’s nutrition plan,
When my meal is from the Bantus’ trash can.
Taste and hunger, my companions anew.

Home is where the cold will never catch me.
Home is where the insects will not bite me.
The sun has given me more than a tan,
And blisters I wear like a cardigan.
A pain more than this is only a few.




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96 written for today, Poetry by Dora Marii

Genre: Spiritual, Life, Awakening, Hope.

 I will not carry the torch,
I will not steer the solar chariot.

My eyes open – crystal doors,
My nostrils pant – in the air superb,
My lips awaken – for You,
And for the two of us alone.

I’ve been searching for the Beautiful in the Mislands
But the infinite is there, where they’ve said,
The beautiful Old, with their invisible wings.

I’ll take a bath in the perfect drink
The same sour cup of the Winner.
My fragile essences will be born
Just for You, just for Us.

And the space – just for us !
I see me flying, I see me floating.

© 1996, 2013 Dora Marii


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