Read Poem by Oceana

Genres : love, hurt, revenge, spiritual, philosophical

No Right

You have no right to ask how I am
And no right to an answer
No right even to the thought occuring
Or the breath that bore it
That breathed our moment
In vengeful violence
Spitting and seething spite
In dark deluded condemnation
Of everything you claimed once right.

You have no right to the friendship
That you beat up
And threatened death to the life that bore it
But unabashed and unforgiven
You assume it
Say you don’t need forgiving
He was due it
You’re the master and there’s no chance
He could ever do it.

You have no right to claim regret
No right to say you are sorry
When to every other face is a different story
Where malice remains the prince amonst principalities
And you justify revenge with vivid stories
With you as the chosen one
With you enlightened and not undone.

You have no right to claim to see the truth
Or to be it’s living example
To uphold yourself as one of the few
Yet in the face of everything
This is what you do.
To god and yourself you must justify
Delusion that you can’t deny
Only you can answer why
Only then you cannot lie.

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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Ganesh or dumbo, Poetry by Damian Corcoran

 Genre: Memory, Spiritual
—-

Ganesh or Dumbo

What you don’t know
doesn’t hurt you
Ganesh or dumbo?

Unsaids like viruses spread
Insinuating into the tendons
To bring us down
Ganesh or dumbo

Cute and childlike
Meek and mild
Drinking milk

Ganesh or dumbo?

A drop left Suspended
A Silent whiteness
A witless witness
Ganesh or dumbo

Globule stretching downwards
Fearful flight
Forestalled Swoosh

Ganesh or dumbo

plop it drops
From chin to bowl
Innocence lost In an

instant of Ignorance

Or choice of ignorance
What Remains is
By default
Ganesh or dumbo

Big words like wisdom
And forgiveness
Cut deep in stone
Are no competition
For dark vengeance
And memories unforgetting

Ganesh or dumbo
 

 

 

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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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AWAKENING, Poetry by Chelle Y. Stuart

 
JULY 18, 2016

SHELTERED FROM AIR & LIGHT, DARKNESS ENVELOPS WHAT IS LEFT OF MY SOUL
HEAVY, ECHOES OF MY LABORED BREATHING ARE THE ONLY SOUND.NOW.
HOLLOW I AM, MY FEEBLE & WEAKENED SHELL EATEN ALIVE BY THE PITS OF HELL
DISTANT & FOREIGN IS MY VOICE WHEN I TRY TO SPEAK, NOBODYS LISTENING

IN THIS PLACE I HAVE BEEN EVERYTHING AND I AM NOTHING, HOW CAN I EXIST?
RESULTS OF A FRACTURED MIND, MY SURVIVAL, MY DEMISE, IT IS MY PSYCHOSIS
IT IS MY EVERY FEAR & WORRY BALLED UP INSIDE ME, RETRACTING FROM ITSELF
THIS TANGLED MESS HAS BEEN MY SURVIVAL & MY STRENGTH, WHAT HAS KEPT ME ALIVE.

I HAVE BEEN HERE IN THIS PLACE FOR SO LONG THAT I DON’T WANT TO COME OUT
THE LIGHT WILL HURT MY EYES THE AIR WILL BURN MY LUNGS, SO I STAY
DAYS, MONTHS, YEARS COULD HAVE PASSED BY NOW, THERE IS NO WAY TO TELL
I AM HOLDING ONTO LIFE WITHOUT REALIZING THAT I AM ALSO HOLIDNG ONTO DEATH

SO I GIVE IN & TRY TO TRUST WHAT LIES ABOVE ME, NOT YET BELIEVING
JUST DECIDING TO TRY & STEP AWAY FROM THE DARK PLACE TO SEE IF I CAN
TO FEEL WHAT I HAVE FORGOTTEN, TO KNOW IF I WILL PERISH BECAUSE OF IT
MY BODY ACHES FROM BEING IN THIS POSITION, MY MIND IS FOGGY & UNCLEAR
THE PAIN IN MY CHEST BECOMES GREATER & MY VISION PLAYS OUT LKE A MOVIE

FADING IN & OUT, SOUNDS NOT PRIMARY JUST BACKGROUND NOISE, A FILLER
EVERY SENSE EVENTUALLY HEIGHTENED, COLORS SO VIBRANT, I CAN ALMOST FEEL AGAIN
THINGS FEEL STRANGE YET FAMILIAR, HAVE I BEEN TO THIS NEW PLACE BEFORE?
I AM UNSURE, UNSTEADY, I FEEL SO OUT OF PLACE HERE CAN’T I JUST GO BACK?

I WANT TO RETREAT BUT I AM BLOCKED, A FORCE STRONGER THAN I WONT LET ME
IT’S TOO HARD TO LIVE HERE, I WON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO OR HOW TO EXIST HERE

I AM TOO TIRED TO FIGHT THIS, SO I HAVE TO ACCEPT THAT I AM WHAT IS NOW
I AM NOT WHAT I WAS AND CANNOT BE WHAT WILL BE, JUST WHAT IS NOW
HERE, WHERE TIME HASN’T STOPPED I MUST REMEMBER HOW TO DO THIS AGAIN
I AM AFRAID, I AM LOST, I AM ALONE JUST AS I WAS IN THE DARK PLACE
ONLY HERE I AM NOT REALLY ALONE AND I DESPISE THE CHATTER, ITS TOO LOUD
MAYBE I WONT HAVE TO STAY HERE TOO LONG, I WANT TO GO HOME
WHERE I WAS, WHERE I BELONG, WHERE I AM WELCOME TO STAY FOREVER

 
Genres: dark,life,fight,rebirth,spiritual
 

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LOVE, Poetry by Ram Krishna Singh

I gave you my love

what more do you seek

Genre: Inspirational/Spiritual

LOVE

I gave you my love

what more do you seek

to lighten the night

my beloved

let the fire burn

and consume the moth

–Ram Krishna Singh

 

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Rite of Passage, Poetry by Olalekan Joseph Ajayi

Tonight I enter the forest of words
The moon a lamp unto my naive feet
Like the prophets of old I bear no sword
Just calabash of ink and famished sheet

Genre: Rhyme, Spiritual

Rite of Passage
by Olalekan Joseph Ajayi

Tonight I enter the forest of words
The moon a lamp unto my naive feet
Like the prophets of old I bear no sword
Just calabash of ink and famished sheet

I hear harsh clichés from nocturnal birds
Seeking to drown the voice of the songbird
The stagnant river smells of putrid fish
The trees at its banks shed leaves of anguish

From the cacophony came thunder’s voice
Only worthy tongues get to the whetstone
Only circumcised hearts embrace the Muse
Only truth bearers etch their names on stone

The poet’s journey is one of solitude
Laughters and sorrows of a million souls
To be delivered in great altitude
Cling unto me like flies to open sores

Like a madman at war with strange voices
Voices in my head battle for my tongue
They bid speak, write in measured verses
For my words are untainted to fight wrongs

My parched tongue and empty bowels mock me
The scroll shall be my bread and the ink drink
Mine eyes have seen the book that makes me free
A messenger, my voice shall curse this stink

Tomorrow, I emerge from the forest
A valiant initiate of the Poets’ court
With my free verses and blend of new forms
I shall better the art of poetasters

 

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