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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Sometimes, Poetry by Micheal Ace

Genre: Society, Rhyme

Sometimes I know the sky is not happy
But I besiege them to hold back tears
Sometimes I buy myself some fancy wears
For how you appear tags you a price
Sometimes I know the universe is boring
But the sun has no choice but to smile
.
Sometimes I say my thoughts so loud
Because someone might hold them dear
Sometimes I learn new and stylish steps
For we don’t define beauty on one spot
Sometimes I know how far I am from love
But I cloth some poems in charming words
.
Sometimes I hold on to my mother’s eyes
Even though they won’t stay there forever
Sometimes I give father some clear shots
So I may hold his grin till the end of time
Sometimes I let my mind do the cries
Because none of these memories will last
.
Sometimes I wish these times never end
Even though I see better days coming
Sometimes I hope I can change the past
For I have seldom made mama smile
Sometimes I do not find meaning to these words
But I write them so I may have my peace
.
.
Micheal Ace
#magicalpoe

 

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Fontanelle, Poetry by David Leo Sirois

Genre: Rhyme, Life

 

Fontanelle

Clocks have been stripped from all walls

as well as all forgotten gods

in an orchestrated effort to disorient us all

 

in the cylindrical silver corridor where time abides

in its own loneliness almost absent at this time

 

Even the eyes of my eyes cannot trace

how long it has lasted & how far it will stretch its

long thin limbs It is not available for questioning at this time

 

At this time we cannot say or guess

the trajectory of flashes on/off

to open wide eyelids & shut them down again

 

The space between seconds is

interminable unbearable at times & the length of

my spine immeasurable this moment

 

The crown of my head quietly lifting off

of its own volition

 

Fragile circle of my fontanelle The point of gentle

pressure from below The tiniest bit of dust is

all I am capable of carrying at times

 

My questions sing in an unbroken flow of

legato notes a melody of urgency

toward a certain yet forever unexpected end

 

The rest is silence he said & let go of his breath

 

 

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The Battle, Poetry by Glen Hill

 Genre: Rhyme, Life

Captain McLeod stood staring out to space,
A tough old man, with scars on his face,
Deep in thought, deep in contemplation,
Onboard his planet orbiting defence station.

Distortions were seen far off in the stars,
Above and to the left near the planet Mars,
He finished some cake, and wiped it on his shirt,
He looked directly at an officer “Go High Alert”.

The officer pushed a button, lights and bells rang out,
People scurried everywhere, thinking “what’s this all about”,
Cannons were charged, and hospitals were manned,
The Captain thought “The bastards are coming, earlier than planned”

Lieutenant Webb reached his fighter, and primed it for launch,
Another tough nut, so brave and so staunch,
The squadron leader, the who commands repect,
To run from a fight, a thought he’d totally object.

Patiently waiting, His dash was all aglow,
Waiting for the order, waiting to launch, to go,
The green light was given, and his throttle went down,
He was followed by many, the ships were all around.

Eighty alien warships, decloaked right ahead,
Webb saw these huge ships, and banked left instead,
A frontal assault, is suicide he thought,
He didnt want to risk his men, he didnt want them caught.

“Fire” the Captain said, then repeated it as a shout,
As he watched the alien warships, their fighters coming out,
Gunfire suddenly erupted, as the cannons locked on,
And the aliens retaliated, with shots before long.

Webb maneuvered broadside, and engaged their ships,
Gunfire was everywhere, but Webb just pursed his lips,
His squadron had fanned out, and given free run,
This is going to take awhile, before they will be done.

“Ready the nukes” the Captain announced, as he sat in his chair,
“They are here to destroy us, they’re not going anywhere”
Damage was taken, to both sides of the fight,
Whole floors were blow out, then sucked away from sight.

Explosions now riddled, most of the alien warships too,
Some were dropping away, the Captain knew what to do,
“Webb” the Captain said “Nukes are coming your way”,
Webb knew that meant one thing, he needed to get far away!

Part 2
Webb radioed his squadron, saying “That’s enough fun”,
“The Captain will be firing nukes, so we have to run”,
With a few more alien casualties, and happy with his deed,
The entire squadron reversed course, Then took off at speed.

“We cant nuke every ship” an officer had said,
But the Captain had an idea, a plan formed in his head,
“No we can’t hit all the ships, yes you are correct”
“But i intend hitting most of them, and have a chain reaction effect”

Just then some flashes were seen, from an alien warship,
As fifteen were ships were launched at them, ones with a pointy tip,
“Boarding Party” the Captain yelled, as he pointed at his crew,
Half the bridge crew departed, for their armoury rendezvous.

“Launch the nukes” the Captain screamed “And hit every second one”
A whoosh of big projectiles, jet streaks brighter than the sun,
By this time Webb and co, were all clear, almost home,
And rounded the back of the station to the launch dome.

Webb knew about the boarding ships, and sprinted for a gun,
He locked and loaded with heaps of things “Time to have more fun”
The boarding ships hurtled toward the station, aliens by the airlock seal,
They slammed into the side of the hull, puncturing through steel.

The front of the ships opened up, and aliens poured out,
Webb and his crews were already coming, they weren’t messing about,
The aliens saw Webb, and he saw them, and scattered for cover,
Shots rang out and missiles too as they engaged one another.

One of Webbs crew, lobbed a grenade as the aliens were pinned,
The man who did it, sniggered and said “i think i have sinned”,
THe explosion ripped the aliens apart, the timing was a fluke,
“Instead of throwing a normal grenade, i think i threw a nuke”

Soon enough though, the aliens were gone the threat now is no more,
Webb had made it to the bridge, to checkout the warship score,
The Captains plan for a chain reactionworked like a song,
The warship numbers had significantly reduced their end wont take long.

The station is badly damaged, one more ship to go,
The Captain was making up his mind, as he paced to and fro,
One more nuke was fired, but the warship started to glow red,
“i think they will fire their main weapon” is all the Captain said.

The nuke had struck the last ship, as it fired out a beam,
And as the warship fell away,the station was cut in half clean,
The orbiting station buckled, then started losing height,
The Captain looked out from the bridge, the planet now plain in sight.

The evacuation was sounded, as the station became unstable,
“Get to your escape pods now” those of you who are able,
Escape pods ejected this way and that, as the station was erupting in flame,
Some people will be scarred from this, and they will never be the same.

 

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The Sempiternal Sapphire, Poetry by Sohinee Dey

 Genre: Hope, Inspirational, Long, Motivational, Rhyme, Strong, Life,
Personality.

Out of nowhere, blowed the outraged zephyr,
Trying to diminish the glow of the sapphire.
Evocative and fetching all together,
Knew the wind not that it was nether!

Beleaguered by the wind, never did she cry,
Neither did she succumb into a mournful sigh.
Only believed that it will pass by,
And she will always hold her head high!

Ameliorated, she sat there,
Withstanding the wind; calling it mere.
Somewhere above the albatross cried,
Muffled and obliterated; in silent effluence, the wind crept by.

Then the sun shone in its full glory,
Nowhere was repentance; without it being sorry.
Engaged himself in a dalliance with the sapphire,
Scorched her; dissembling her in his fire!

Crestfallen was the sapphire now,
But promised herself never to bow,
Stronger she would be; made a vow.
Promised; a better route she would plough!

The rain came along,
Leaving behind a demure calmness behind.
Shy at first, then drenched the earth in ebullience.
Acting as an elixir for efflorescence.
The sapphire sat and let herself drench in petrichor.

Then the autumn was awakened,
Wherein the grip of the roots were slackened.
Left the greens and blooms to wither.
But a new beginning it was, for the sapphire.

The winter trailed in unannounced,
Froze the earth without an ounce of mercy.
Took the earth in its demesne,
But there she sat, shining in her ethereal flames.

The spring created an assemblage of blooms,
Cheered everyone out of their gloom.
The sapphire rejoiced in epiphany,
Without losing her shine; for fighting through all the infamy.
BY: SOHINEE DEY

 

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Satan and his forbidden island, Poetry by Aziz Alkaabi

 Genre: Rhyme, Relationship

 It will shiver soon,
Their own holy dawn
and the golden moon
will shy and yawn,

Blinking her last
hazel lights on a vast
silky ocean.

Soon,
The flaming sun
will beam his discipline,
And
I am awake I am alone.

It will shiver soon
their own holy dawn,
And the sea
will tender her waves,
For them to depart.

Gods of winds will rise
to rub their eyes,
Eager to lead them away.

Nightingales,
Avid to pray,
Across this magical bay
and guiding stars assiduous,

Glazing their shining armor.

When I am listless,
Atop my dormant mountain,
I am awake always alone.

Reflecting,
Over this cold flint
and sharp stone.

Waiting to espy them again,
Joyous Poets,
They will be sailing
to “New Babylon”

That disguised heaven,
Amidst her emerald sea,
I am told.

The immortal island,
I am forbidden to go see.

The land of enchanting potions,
They attain bliss.

That mysterious land
of eternal milk and sacred honey.

Towering castles,
Beneath which flow,
Rivers of godly wines.

They will be sailing
to New Babylon,

Where they will be taught
the speech of birds
by Solomon’s children.

Where they will be schooled
to tame his winds.

When I am listless,
Atop my dormant mountain,
I am awake always alone.

How arduous
can this be?

Will it ever break
this nasty old spell?

The curse which
kept me yearning
for a million years,

Knowing not
what I make or do here.

Except!
Every blazing month of June,
I find me waiting,

Over this silent mountain,
By the sea.

Tending seaside birds,
Waiting
and my hurtful sorrows,
And soon
I’ll watch them wild sparrows.

Some,
Their thighs are pale,
Some,
Their streaks yellow,
And some,
Just like me!

They bear

Dark spots
around their hearts.

 

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The Journey Home, Poetry by Tyson Cantrell

 Genre: Rhyme, Relationship

Have thy lips forgotten their journey home?
Their expedition makes the arbor blush;
A tread uncertain, for the lone to roam,
And one too heady for the learn’d to rush.

They do stray from reason, with passion straight;
Though ne’er removed from the artisan’s fear;
But mark their path with Aphrodite’s gait;
A perilous voyage for lovers’ near.

Must they insist traversing the unknown?
Might they pause, and harbor heaven divine?

I shall stop thy pilgrimage with mine own;
Two weary travelers that long for rest,
Open thy crimson gates, and welcome them;
No sweeter neighbor has e’re been thy guest.

 

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 all a-twitter, Poetry by Persis Karim

Genre: Rhyme, Society

what’s all the twitter

from the tweeter

who can’t take the chitter-

chatter about the possibility

that he might be the cheater?

persis karim ©2016

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Regret, Poetry by Ella Godinez

 I think that I’m starting to move on
It’s not easy but just carry on
I’ve done all the things that could distract me from thinking about him
But I just really could not get rid of my feelings towards him

My heart was broken like a glass that fell from a table
At first I thought we were unbreakable
Everything that I think about you was wrong
Didn’t know that loving you could turn out wrong

We were once so happy
When I haven’t tell you yet this kind of feelings that makes me giddy
Everytime you sit and talk to me
There’s still no awkward feeling you get when you’re with me

I now regret all the wrong decisions I made
All of the things you said cuts like a blade
You won’t even care when you see me bleed
If there’s a bidding to save me you wont bid

But hey, guess what?
Thanks for all of that
Now I know what I really want
Not a guy that would just taste a gum and spit it out

You wasted your chance
You already got me in your hands
But you still chose to break my heart
Now, goodbye,I wont be chasing a guy that has a cold stone heart

Genre: Rhyme, Relationship, Romance

 

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Masks of Melancholy, Poetry by Ruth Bowley

Genre: Dark, Life, Rhyme

Masks of Melancholy by Ruth Bowley

Tell me darkness, where have your been?
The woods have stalked me.
The pavement has ridden my soul.
And, my city streets have turned cold.

Do not deny me…for that in which I have been destined.
Madness has offended you.
But it is my imaginary friend.

As the state has hand picked those upon my family tree,
yesterday was their’s to own.
Yet, this is my unhinged bedroom door…
This, this aching constant gardening of backdoor pondering…
Is a vacant ghost, immune to pathological monitoring.

At the hand of my father, an insanity plea.
At the feet of my mother, bloodied masks of melancholy.
The whole body of truth, the child…
Is a mad generation…set free.

 

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