Poetry: OLD ORDER by Rajnish Mishra

 Genre: Dark, Death, Fear, Friendship, Life, Love, Painful, Personality, Philosophical, Relationships, Sad, Society, Old and new.

 All old order is subject to decay,

they say and when fate summons,

old ways free fall. Heart-held loves,

friends, hatreds, foes, all, yes, all

give way to mighty time’s sway.

Indestructible, invincible,

grand youthful years, with each
passing year suffer wisdom’s

sedimentation, while marching on way,

time fills in fears, foreboding of future:

quite an accumulation! That knowledge

and fear lose all their power,
For lost is that fear –

a servant attentive.
For lost is that fear –

above head always hovering.
So, lost is the fear –

of not ever returning
As roots are cut now,

or withered; ineffective


now hardened

is drained of that terror.

Short Bio:

Rajnish Mishra is a poet, writer, blogger and thinker. He has published seven books, six co-edited anthologies, twenty scholarly papers and poems in various journals, books and magazines. Few of his poems can be read at the following sites: https://www.poemhunter.com/, https://allpoetry.com, https://www.instagram.com/rajnishmishravns/, http://stanzaicstylings.blogspot.in,

His love for his city and his awareness of its effects on his psycho-social development led him to starting his own blog: rajnishmishravns.wordpress.com in 2011. The blog features both his academic writing and his writing on his city: the City of Light, Varanasi. Then, as he is a poet, and loves reading and talking about other people’s poems too, he started another blog: https://poetrypoeticspleasure.wordpress.com/. He runs an ezine: PPP Ezine to promote poetry and poets.

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 Genre: Life, Society

At that moment when Aphrodite
conquered the fourth Sky as well
the highest circles of Society
decided that she could now be
proclaimed Illustrious Woman.

That is the great
moment had come for the Advertisement
her body to be stuck to the background
of Omnipotence
or for the passions of Nature to violently
trampled on
if she were
to conquer even the Ninth Heaven.

Or simply to be a contributor
to the Sun’s circling from Dawn to Sunset
to be executed not only

without any intervention of night
but also during the time period
when the Giants of money had a taste for it.

And without yet returning to her Man
Aphrodite observed that
the seas had begun to bury the blue in the earth
and the first dust had begun to fall
on the laurel wreath of victory
as the island of Cyprus
filled up with reporters and managers
and with the vilest people in the World.

The moment Hephaestus learned of all that
he locked himself in his house
because he too would be losing
his beautiful wife
now she had appeared before
the eyes of the World…

Translation by PHILIP RAMP

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Poetry: CARTLOADS by Sue Barnard

Genre: Society, Rhyme


(with profuse apologies to John Masefield)


Elegant young lady dressed in black Versace

gliding around Waitrose with a leisured ease,

with a cartload of oysters, mussels, truffles,

fillet steak, Bollinger, and Stilton cheese.


Smartish young accountant still in office outfit

trudging around Sainsbury’s on her homeward way,

with a cartload of pasta, chicken, houmous,

pitta bread, Camembert and Chardonnay.


Shabby hungry student rushing back from lectures,

dashing around Tesco in her faded jeans,

with a cartload of cider, Cheddar, pizza,

sliced bread, sausages and cheap baked beans.


Sue Barnard

Author and Editor at Crooked Cat Books

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Poetry: Silent A by Nicole Long

Genre: Motivational, Society, Inspirational
They call me Silent A—
Who am I? They ask and don’t ask
Slithering into a discussion about
School, politics, what happened on the news—
While everyone gazes for a reaction,
Do they look concerned? What are they thinking? Do they know?
But you can’t seem to get out of the dazed,
Confused state I put you in.

I come when you least expect it—
In the middle of a bar,
The music pumping, juices flowing
Through your body.
The heart starts pounding,
Panic sets in like a
Storm crossing the horizon.
You look around, making sure no one notices.

In the middle of the night—
3am as silence fills the air,
Coming off of sleep meds and
Mixture of Vodka Tonics and Merlot,
Anything to keep the mind
At an altered state of nowhere and beyond.
But I’m screaming at you,
The toxicity won’t keep me away.

I’m the one who kills—
Friendships, relationships, your purified mind
Keeping you away from what you love,
What you don’t love.
Standing in that darkened corner,
Waiting for that next high off of me.
They call me Silent A—
You can’t see me, they can’t see me, but I see you.


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Poetry: Autobiography of the Poet by Indunil Madhusankha

I am the poet
carrying a luggage of roles
all of which I play with equal interest

I am the talkative lover
who knocks on the door of your heart
and having entered,
bursts into a torrid tete-a-tete
with your inner self
and sings fantastic flirtations

I am the justice in the court
betokening perfect impartiality
and never guilty of distorting the truth
None receives the least pardon from me
for any offence

I am the policeman
following the thugs
with a baton
and filing a case against them

I am the overpowering magician
My virility, more ebullient
than that of a gunman or a swordsman
In case they can only kill a person
Yet I influence the latter
and charge the battery of his heart

I am the labourer
digging out moth eaten rubbish mounds
and recycling them

Yet, I am the poet,
the very slight poet,
still struggling for perfection.

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Poetry: IT IS FINISHED by Gabriel Eziorobo

Genre: African leaders, Society, Political

They say it is finished
they say they will do us well
more than the colonial masters
of the past
that we don’t need to worry about anything
but learn how to be slaves.

They say it is finished
they made us believe
the things for the deaf people
they say we don’t need to worry about anything
but learn how to be deaf.

They say it is finished
they put us here in this paradise
which prison is better of
they say we don’t need to worry about anything
but learn how to be prisoners
hoping to be free someday.

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Read Poetry: AM I LOST?, by Fayia Foray

Genre: Life, Society

 Run! I have run
Oh! I’ve died several times to this end
I’ll rest away from that bad beast.
This sound is not welcoming.
Turning and turning all about
So ferocious is the incoming voice
Can I run!
I must run. But run to no point at all?
I have fumbled and tripled triple times on this way.
There seems no way lead out
Yes! There is one, and the beast is within me.
How can a high class animal run from that low class?
Yes! T’s why t’s a beast
And we’re never the same
T may pierce my flesh but I, no
Except I may kill it out of defense
A beast is a beast; never broken like a cheese
Take to your heels when it wheels it presence
T will never understand like you.
Though the bad beast within you is the worst beast…the fear
I can’t hide…none to hide
Courage is the only weapon …and I’ll run
And I’ll run! And run to the end…


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Read Poetry: The Hypocritical Oath, by Angela Umphers Rueger

Not just anyone can kill a baby;
It takes a degree to commit that crime.
The doctor’s conscience will hurt him—maybe,
But the guy on the street will do some time.

In the clinic it’s called an abortion,
But it’s murder when done on the street.
Society’s views are a distortion
Of truth. Just ask the next stranger you meet.

A drunken man hits an oncoming car.
The impact begins preterm labor.
The nearest hospital is much too far
Away. The paramedics can’t save her.

The drunkard is found guilty of murder
Of the baby that was killed on the way
To a place where Doc waited to hurt her—
He was scheduled to abort her that day.

Abortion is legal; it’s Mother’s choice.
Planned Parenthood plays on that ruse.
But Baby’s human. What about her voice?
Shouldn’t she too have the right to choose?


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Read Poem: Strange Fruit Even Stranger Times, by Evan Wheeler

Genre: Life, Society

Instead of recognizing we’re king you intend to abolish us. It’s always been obvious first we dangle from trees now it’s filmed murder in the streets. Using mass media television, radio, and music to create deceit in us. Yea we’re free from shackles but you’re still leading us. We keep sleeping not understanding we have reason to say they’re defeating us. Why are we afraid to be heard or seen maybe we’ll be the next martyr or leader killed for a reason. A strong people killed without a cause it’s disgusting; can’t you see injustice has me questioning what trust is?


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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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