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Read Poem: Won’t Make Peace, by Samantha Merz

The magnitude of Mars is inconceivable
There are a couple of things I forgot to say
Should I give up eating peanuts and honey for my blood type?
Oh, I could probably save a screenshot on my phone
Not a chapter hallmark blonde
Her hand rested on his thigh
You went out with a poser
Not into your scene
No more work at night
New reward
Green jade jar in the ground
Bound to blue

Read Poem: TAKE ME BACK TO WHEN, by Syed Mashiat Hussain

Take me back to when,
I was a baby sliding down the stairs on my ass and it left bruises,
I was a little boy finding toys in the backseat every time I took cruises,
I was a competitive little shit that laughed every time the other team loses,
I was the first in line and got whatever dad picks and chooses.

My mother use to hold me close and make me laugh with just a touch on my neck,
My sister and I use to fight to watch Hannah Montana but everyone else preferred Shrek.
My brother always got hit on the face with the ball and I laughed till I pissed my pants,
My childish mind use to feel like the giant in jack and the beanstalk because I use to play with ants.

There was no worry in my head and I could draw across the walls and then sit in the naughty chair,
There was no weight on my shoulders and I could do as I please without the slightest bit of care,
There was ice cream vans in every corner and you wouldn’t miss a day without getting a cone,
There was nursery rhymes like humpty dumpty and nick knack paddy whack give your dog a bone.

I was a kid trying to be Spiderman by climbing every building, every wall, every tree,
I was a kid trying to be friends with every frog bin, every ladybird, every bee,
I was a weird kid trying to lick the ink of every colour, every type, every pen,
I was a tree in the school play bringing laughter to every teacher, every parent, every friend,
I was a child wishing to grow up so I could tell that child to,

Take me to back then

Read Poem: MERAKI, by Dina Jael

The fixation of my hands
is upon the soil beneath me.
It calls me to nuture it,
thus I immerse in its moist nature.
Even the worms collaborate
in this messy downward journey,
softly lingering through my fingers.
Dirt and chaos everywhere,
as I penetrate the chosen spot.
The mycelium awaiting patiently
the arrival of the unaffected seed.
“Spread the news to the Mother Trees!” -they say
“this naive carapace has now entered deep.”
I comfort it with a blanket of mud,
hoping it feels tight and snug.
I carry myself away from the little one,
trusting the light will dry up its tears.
The days pass,
and soon a crackling sound
awakes my eyes.
Is it already time?
I rush to the garden,
encounter nothing but a sad sob.
What is it you need my tiny little dot?
“I need you to hold me, I’m breaking apart”.
A motherly sigh poures down from the clouds,
sparkling drops gently entering the ground.
As a melody of love lifts from a song,
a spirit of warmth prevails the dawn.
The short lived pain has gone astray,
the darkest night fleeted away.
The sun rises and sets.
Rooted secrets are blooming out the edge.
Stretching arms begin to unfold;
sprouting joy; neverending growth.
I stare at such greatness,
as the whistling wind
carries out loving scents of graces.

meraki poem - dina jael

Read Poem: Lady Leanne and the Highwayman, by Jilly Henderson-Long

a fanciful story in rhyme

Tha Lady Leanne heard a rumour
“There’s a highwayman out on the loose!”
She knew that if ever they caught him,
he surely would be for the noose.
He was certainly some kind of mystery,
for never a word did he speak,
he merely appeared before travellers,
pistols raised to make them feel weak.
He dressed all in black was the story,
from his head right down to his toes,
except for the pure white bandanna,
pulled up to cover his nose.
They called him the Ghost Shadow Rider,
all anyone saw was his eyes,
and he soon became some sort of hero,
for he always surrendered his prize.
He’d steal all the gold and the jewelery
and carry it off into town,
where he’d give it all out to the poor folk,
still without making a sound.
Then he would vanish for days
but as soon as the rich thought it clear,
once again he’d appear on the highway,
and into their hearts would strike fear.
His horse would rear up in a whinny,
one pistol-shot into the air,
the gentlemen squirmed, the ladies would swoon
the moment they saw he was there.
He’d thrust a bag in through the window,
put the pistol against someone’s chest,
then wait until they had filled it,
before gallopping off to the west.
The Lady Leanne in her manor,
by her father forbidden was she,
to venture out in the dark evenings,
the Ghost Shadow Rider to see.
But one night during the summer,
she crept out and she mounted her horse.
Deep in the woods, she changed clothing.
She was the Ghost Shadow, of course.

Read Poem: Silently Screaming, by Naa Lamiorkor Boye

You hurt me, you break me then you leave me.
You claim that you love me and yet you refuse to let me see.
You hold me back from who I can be.
You never let me go or set me free.
Captive.

You bound me and cage me and lock me away.
Nothing I cry can keep you at bay.
You always need to shout instead of say.
But I love you anyway.
Hurt.

You hit me and hurt me and say you are sorry.
You say it is a problem and I shouldn’t worry.
But then an argument turns into something gory.
Will you ever end this horrible story?
Broken.

Now I am broken and do not say a thing.
I flinch and shudder at the slightest ding.
I barely open my mouth to even sing.
I feel like a bird with a broken wing.
Useless.

Are you happy now?
Are you satisfied that when I see you I nearly bow?
Are you done with saying that I look like a cow?
Because I changed everything of mine yet you don’t even say wow.
Silent.

Here I am, no speaking, no crying, no singing.
Yet in my mind, I am silently screaming.
So keep these words and start minding.
For one of these days you may look for me and never start

Read Poem: Quarantine, by TAK Erzinger

Hills
heave euphoric
bruised in crocuses

Overwrought
heaven ruptures
in rain

Spring appears
sheathed
in uncertainty

Sweating
out the cold
fevered by wind

Next to me
your mouth open
a hive

Sweet
humming in
familiar warmth

Exhaling
relief and comfort
a ritual aubade.

Read Poem: I HAD YOU BUT…, by Gladys Muturi

Growing inside me for nine months had me at pause
But now I realize why
Why now? I’ve come so far
’til I have taken a halt
I had you but now I’m sad
I can’t stop crying now
I overfeed myself to get the milk you deserve
My breasts swell in pain
Heavy like a pound ton weighing down on me
You’re not a mistake
You’re the best mistake
I wish I should’ve known better
No, it’s not your fault, It’s mine
Daddy’s not here, I’m here
You had me at hello around the clock
24/7, every week, morning, noon and night
Exhausted, no plans for me just you
I love you, but I’m powerless
My energy is drowned out
like a candle blown from the wind
I’m crying now
Yet you comfort me
I look up
I thank God I had you
I had you and I want to say “I love you”

Read Poem: Love in the Time of Corona, by Jared Michael Ellis

I am scared.
I wasn’t
I was wrong.

I went to sleep fast like a child.
Carefree.
Confident
in my mothers ability
to protect me.

I went to sleep in my bed
and woke up in a place I did not recognize.
Scared.
Cradled in my mother’s arms.
Disoriented.
Nothing is familiar.
Overnight my world
My playground
became a place I did not recognize.
Overnight my home,
My oasis,
Became my solitary confinement.

I trust my mother.
If she can make the flowers bloom May
then I trust I will bloom too.

I close my eyes so I can see better.
See what my natural eyes cannot.
I need to see a future.
One that is normal.
Maybe this is our new normal?
For now, I’ll settle for
one with hope
One with music in the south loop
One with social distancing karaoke.
And long distance relationships that span a block and a half.

One full of love.

I cannot predict the future but
I do know one thing:
I will not stop loving.
I will not give up on Love
I will not give up on Joy. I will give her away freely
My Joy
I will give her away to all who ask
and those who don’t.

I guess that’s not fair to say…

That she can be given away.
She is not a possession
She is a state of mind.
She cannot be bought or bartered for.
She can merely be found and shared.
Humility is all she asks in return.
She looks fondly on me
as I have had the blessing of knowing her for years.
Even when we lose touch
we find our way back to each other
and continue to do so every day.
I always know exactly where to find her.

She hides in the cracks of my music –
In the bud of a tulip the dares to bloom
despite the frost –
Echoing in the laughter of my grandfather
long after his passing.
You can find her in the little things:
The unexpected places.

She stands as tall and proud as a lighthouse
guiding damaged ships to calmer waters.
I am the vessel of her affection.
Now, like one of her ships
I don’t know where I am.
I’m still disoriented

and scared.
But I trust my mother.
She is Joy –
and Love…
and she is still cradling me in her arms
as we forge unfamiliar territory.
I trust she knows what she is doing.

I have more victories behind me
than trials ahead.
I lost my job, but I have not lost my Joy.
They took my happiness, but they cannot take my Joy.
My Joy –

New world:
Same Joy.
New world:
Same Love.
New world:

Read Poem: CITY LIGHTS, by Sujan Bista

Vibrant colors , making darkness look beautiful.
Twinkling all around, on a cloudy night.
Reality braided in fiction.
The trail of city lights.

As the sunshine turned to ghost.
We shall meet again “dawn”,says the dusk.
Then i walked alone.
The poles with light that guided me home.
Pin drop silence, got no one to talk at.
Cold nights, I’ve got warm paths to walk back.

The candle and the fireflies.
Shaming the stars and it’s twilight.
Escaping scary noises, ignoring wolf’s howl.
Before midnight, I’ve got to go home.
With the help of bright sight as it shows.
The trail of city lights.

Will wake you up to listen the howls and cherish it.
The trail of stars, candles and fireflies.
Dissolving self into your candy lips.
With the emerging heat, the touch of your porcelain skin.
As you held my hand guiding me back to sleep.
Losing mysef in peace, at the beauty of your mountains peak.

Sujan Bista

On Mon, Mar 30, 2020 at 10:47 AM Sujan Bista wrote:
Miracle.

Vibrant colors , making darkness look beautiful.
Twinkling all around, on a cloudy night.
Reality braided in fiction.
The trail of city lights.

Will wake you up to listen the howls and cherish it.
The trail of stars, candles and fireflies.
Dissolving self into your candy lips.
With the emerging heat, the touch of your porcelain skin.
As you held my hand taking back to sleep.
Losing mysef in peace, the beauty of your mountains peak.

Read Poem: A Message From The Last Unicorn, by Gloria Hudson

It was I… (she spoke from within)
Charmed and enlightened
Strength and pose
Beautiful and fierce
But, a tender soul.

To be a unicorn was…
Mysterious to some
I spoke like a human
But, all of a sudden
They all wanted my horn
As their trophy…
A metal…
The cup which held great treasures
There was…
None so great in any kingdom
Magic…
I possessed
I suppose.

Until they killed
My son, my daughter
And husband and parents
I was content and happy
They killed us all…

We once…
Lived side by side
In harmony;
I would often sit by the rivers bank
And tell of tales far in advance.

They all assumed it was my horn
That gave me the power to speak
To tell of such tales
In great detail…
But, it wasn’t
No, not really

They assumed it was my horn
Because, it was different from all others
And had such beauty.

But, to get my horn
That held little to none
Of the power they thought it possessed
That had to bring me down.

Like all the rest…
To my knees
To cry
A stab in my body,
“As anyone else,
I bleed!”

I thought to myself,
“This is not right!”

But, then…
I was too weak to explain
As I’m sure, my family failed
The same as I did;
Too weak to tell them.

And, then when I was at weakest point
They stripped my horn right from my head!

Me…
“What joy it was to disbelieve;
I was actually happy to see them try
To activate a power the horn did not bare.”

I at my brink of death..
Still I watched…
As they beat my horn and said incarnations over it,
Bared it from inside, ate and drank from it…

How could they not know…
My power never came from my horn
It was gifted only deep within me.

I know many of you…
Are looking at the next best thing,

Since I am gone away.

And, perhaps it will bring the power…
The people here; want today.

Remember with great power,
Comes great responsibility.

Who I was not much like you in form
But, yet able to do something’s that you do.
You looked at me with lust of the power I held inside;
And wanted me like a child wanting it’s grand prize.

The power I held; I held with love.
But, you…
You did not see me as meat
You needed me not to eat
Nor that of my blood as dripped,
Sinking into the ground, you did not care…

No, you wanted my grace,
My fierceness, my voice, my head,
My soul as a prize possession,
You wanted most of all was my strength and my power…
To say the things that only I could say.

But your lack of knowledge…
Left you…

Empty handed.

No power in my horn
My meat
Nor my blood
The power was in my spirit…
And, that was the one thing you couldn’t harness then…
And, still can’t harness today!

Fools as you were
Open your eyes
What gifts that are granted to one
Can’t be transferred to another…
Unless you let it be…
Naturally;
As it was designed.

You killed us all
So, what we could of told you…
The truth!

You took and then, you paid the cost
Because greed…
Eat you up inside
Until you destroyed
All that you really loved…
And, you did not even blink your eyes,
As we all died!

Do not make the same mistakes again…
Only once my dearest friend
Listen for the memories
That come from long ago
And listen to truth…
Not the lies other men tell…
I am just one of the memories…
Locked inside;
Today, only once…
Do I speak…
And, I’m not certain whom will hear
And listen or believe!

But, look around at all the world has in it
Animals, trees, green grass,
Rivers and springs and remember…
When you lift your hand wanting power…
That only one holds.

To speak to me…
Like days of old…
Remember; there is good and bad does exist…
You have to listen contently or the trivial signals you will miss!

And, you once again; will try to kill the one-you needed the most-
Perhaps you have changed…

But, if you had; I wouldn’t be here to explain…

Speaking through centuries of torn and ripped veins
To tell the truth
You must not fail this time
You must listen with your heart
Not your head that tells you lies
You listened to it before
And look I and mine are no more!

So, my message…

Here today-
Is don’t play with gifts that aren’t yours to bare, don’t take!

Instead remember me-by your side-
It’s written in your DNA; that I was good…

And good to you until, you caused a war and killed us all.

Now; faced with the new decisions;
You must not make the same mistake!

You must hear with your hearts!
Your souls, even!
You must try!

But, realize what is coming-isn’t a fly by night-
You will be confused…

Conflicted…
Oppressed…
You will…

Want to cry.

The powers be that are to come…
One is good, just like me.
One is evil and only your heart can determine.

But, if greed is what you seek,
You’ve seen that it overcome you…

You must lay it down now,
In order to see…
What is good…
And…
What is not!

Listen to me…
As, I speak from beyond the great divide
But, I speak from a place that still lives in your insides!
Make your choice carefully…
(Fading softly)
She said…
Goodbye, until we meet again on the other side!