Best Poetry Online-Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

Big Day – A Poem by G. S. Katz

Like it or not I’m closing in on a BIG number this weekend
I still feel super young in the brain drain
Yet father time is doing the waltz with my mojo
Even # birthdays work better for me
This one however is odd

No, I’m not giving you the number
This punk is from New York City
My leather jacket might be retired
My cynical side though still intact
Translation : Do the math and pass the snakes

Ain’t drinking from a pint bottle in a paper bag yet
Gotta have something to look forward to
No speeches or homilies please
I can still bust you upside the head
Would rather buy you lunch though, maybe the early bird special

Best Poetry Online-Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

I See The Black Dog Coming – A Poem by Liam Snaith

I see the black dog coming.
Because it woke me up at 3:37 a.m.
Miserable inside
Until I had a bath
And applied for another job
I see the black dog coming
It wants to go for a long walk
And come back alone
But it’s 3:58 a.m.
Miserable outside
And my son is asleep in his nursery
So I’m staying here
I see the black dog coming
I can tell from a mile off
It’s hungry
But I only fed it earlier tonight
There’s a can left for it

Best Poetry Online-Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

Golden Days – A Poem by Roy Pullam

There is a mint
In my front yard
The rich gold
Banked
Beneath the sugar maple
I feel wealthy
The beauty
So grand
That passersby
Slow to take
In the sight
It is the blessing
Of fall
When nature
Gives its final gift
Before it
Brings on death
The exposed skeletons
Of the trees
The brown grass
The ghost of wind
Tapping my shoulder
Penetrating me with dread
The chill
Going to my bones
I will pause
Knowing how short
The time
Before they become missiles
Flying in neighbor’s yards
Before I scoop
Them up
Exposing the ground
To the frost
Yet to come

Best Poetry Online-Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

I Am the Sun – A Poem by Zachary Koplan

“I will hang up on you if you keep breathing like that,”
I interrupted you, as you complained that
you can’t stop eating candy for breakfast and salad for dinner.
Other times, I wished that I believed in energy,
or felt sad because I know,
one day, people will look at my brother and say,
“His money makes decisions for him.”
But each dark day, one of my favorite puddles is refilled,
respectable as a new Bible,
waiting for the Sun to start bloodletting.

Best Poetry Online-Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

St Malo By Morning – A Poem by Paul Tristram

British Rail strike be damned! ‘Tis the Devil’s work.
Cadged a lift from The Lizard to Plymouth,
then ‘Thumbed-It’ over to Portsmouth.
I’ll ride the ferry all night,
11 long hours until I stand before her at last.
She paces the streets of St Malo,
as I thunder across The Channel’s black, swirling sea.
Riding the invisible bond which keeps pulling me on…
towards euphoria, serenity and rhythm-touching insanity.
2 bars on board, and I keep swaggering between them.
My impatience electric, intoxicating and infectious,
I turn heads quickly wherever I appear.
The excitement keeps me sure of will and focused…
fighting a magnificent battle of screaming emotions,
I plough the waves ever forward, towards
this all conquering, consuming, now inevitable destiny.

More at http://paultristram.blogspot.co.uk/.

Best Poetry Online-Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

Thursday Morning 4:00 O'Clock – A Poem by Roy Pullam

I cannot sleep
The roll and toss
Twists the covers
But finds no position
For me
To return to dreams
The face of the clock
Mocks me
With its early hour
The slow movement of hands
Like an obscene gesture
Points directly
In my direction
I do not
Want to get up again
The torture
Of fatigue
Lingers from weeks
Of not resting
I cannot turn off
A series of thoughts
Worries
That might never happen
How I long
For the repose
Of my youth
When heavy eyes
Led to a depth
Of unconsciousness
But concerns are with me
The black dog
Nipping at my heels
How I smell
His breath
In the bite
Of guilt
In a host
Of petty details
That in their weight
Makes little difference
I will give up again
Carrying the heaviness
That bends my back
Into the living room
The light is harsh
My eyes convulse
I wait for them
To adjust
Picking a book
From the side
Of the couch
Pausing for a moment
To get the interrupted context
Prior to reading
The few chapters
Before my darling
Rises from her bed

Best Poetry Online-Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

Bill – A Poem by Gareth Culshaw

I couldn’t believe he was still alive.
It is a decade since I saw him.
He looked ill even then.
His hair still trying its best to cover
his head. The slumped shoulder that
carried a wooden ladder.
Rolled cigarette like a budgie
perch in his lips. His eyes brown,
needed cleaning too. He use to
have a swinging bucket from his hand.
It held water that never seemed
to drain away. The rag was a fist
in his pocket, ready to unleash
greyness to the glass. He would sip
pints from every pane he cleaned.
When I saw him the other day
it took me back to when he squeaked
on my bedroom window, while father’s
voice filtered up to him like chimney smoke.
In reply he only ever grumbled.

Best Poetry Online-Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

The Voter | Daipayan Nair

Moments, when the cradle receives jolts and shocks
In it, the little life rocks
Figuring later, happy earthquakes are politics
Which does to a child the very thing the child wants
Sweet lullabies, those imaginative rides,
Those playful hidings, mischievous goodbyes are all politics
Feeding the new child with bribes for gaining
The most sadistic pedestal – position
The parent who lets his child grow on his own
Is a risk taking politician
The child will either be a vote bank or a voter

House in my absence built over those dead, from those dead
Still living a life of royal distempers is an excellent vote bank
Becoming surely silent with my unsure silence
Vote bank which sacrifices its all to follow the unknown
Vote banks are either with a candy packet or none at all
Excellent digesters of child toffee politics and child toy politics

“He who has served himself has only served his master”

Vote banks as slaves to none,
Except being ultimate slaves to the one
The one, if turns a dictator,
Is loved like a bastard’s legitimate son
They now know, daddy has learnt to divide Daddy has learnt to rob,
Manipulate a mob, be a cunning heartthrob
Swag dressed in gifted hollow packs
Just to increase our candy sacks

“Oh dear daddy, you’re a true saint
You’re sacrificing a lot, a lot of red flesh
For the much promised love
How much pressurized demands of gold From my golden brothers
Have you happily fulfilled”

Vote banks blackout all reasons when it’s their ideal father
Vote banks dig out fresh reasons when it comes
To killing the fellow brothers
Vote banks like to have things their own way
So they honour kill, honour burn, cash kill, cash burn
Crimes with inbuilt lawyers
Poor vote banks of little children finding
Contrasts in the black, calling for big daddy to settle
He sees who’s before the cattle, who’s after the cattle
That certain dresses hide weapons for battle
Daddy would create, daddy would destroy
It would be daddy, setting his own inspections, his own investigations,
His own rules to recreate and ploy
The elite vote banks superficially kill, beneficially burn
Candy packets were too much or too less
Apetite was over fed or famine dead

A young girl with baked skin is public circus,
Running trains being made a dead snake of limited public effection.
One rises only when it’s about daddy
Once God had worshippers, then thinkers developed fans
Once celebrity moms had fans, now government dads find devotees
Murders declared ‘good’ by the majority,
Murderers declared God by them
Whose wishes were fulfilled, were greedy to multiply
Who didn’t wish, grew in themselves
Blasted like bombers

Vote banks increased, voters didn’t
Voters never really got a chance after the cradle earthquake
I’ve always questioned, why I’m here
I’ve been answered, ‘for nothing’
Somewhere, I refused being political and diplomatic
I refused being a fool creating fools
Fools making one colored tools

I knew from then on, I was the equator in an earth of partitions,
I would always be the voter, voting for his own existence
In real, voting his own existence out
I knew I was in a group of thousands if not lakhs

I also knew, growth of a tenure isn’t manipulated by time,
It’s as old as its patience
I’m an eater of time, I vote so that they allow me to eat
It makes me a ‘voter’ in today’s world
With a ‘satisfied’ choice.

More at https://daipayannair.wordpress.com.

Best Poetry Online-Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

Life on the Cutout Rack – A Poem by Roy Pullam

In the shadows of dreams
There is a moment
Of reality
When attaining
The heart’s wish
Is followed
With the question
Is that all?
When success
Seems like failure
When the most beautiful
Song sounds stale
To the ear
When more
Becomes less
When acclaim
Becomes an anchor
And success
Becomes quicksand
When everyone
Expects more

Best Poetry Online-Dive into the Depths of Contemporary Voices

Life Lessons Learned at Your Knee – A Poem by Roy Pullam

I was not prepared
For the long separation
A complete independence
I never wanted
You did not see gray
Your values
So absolute
That I often felt
I fell short
In your eyes
You had no time
For hate
Though to many
Poverty and trash
Went in the same bin
And though
You were knocked down
You never stayed down
With the feeling
That only cowards
Bemoaned their faith
That I
Should never stop trying
Should never settle
For ease
It rings in my ears
The bell of truth
The sound of your voice

Best Poetry Online