A World Too Dark Too Often - A Poem by Donal Mahoney - Appreciate Language and Form through the Best Contemporary Poetry

A World Too Dark Too Often – A Poem by Donal Mahoney

Julie owns a cat that roams.
Recently he’s been stopping at
Jack and Brenda’s house where
Brenda’s mourning her cat’s death.
Brenda cries except when Julie’s cat
comes around. Tuffy is his name

When Tuffy visits Brenda’s house
he never wants to leave.
He thinks he’s gone to heaven.
He gets tuna, milk and a
forever petting that turns his
purring up full throttle.
Brenda loves to hear it.

Jack finally tells Julie her cat’s
bonded with his wife and
he doesn’t know what to do.
He takes Tuffy home and the cat
comes back again the next day.
But Julie isn’t disturbed at all.
She visits Brenda and tells her
Tuffy’s your cat from now on,

a gift from one heart to another.
Brenda weeps with joy and starts
petting Tuffy who drools and purrs
like a train coming out of a tunnel.
Jack’s amazed to see the light
one act of kindness can shine
on a world too dark too often.

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Cursor - A Poem by J.K. Durick - Appreciate Language and Form through the Best Contemporary Poetry

Cursor – A Poem by J.K. Durick

The cursor signals, winks on and off, uses a code
I have yet to master. Sometimes it seems amused,
Pleased with itself over an inside joke I don’t get.

Other times, it becomes a warning, desperate for
My attention, as if the page were a flooded road
Much too dangerous to wade in or drive through,

Sinkholes waiting, hidden, ready to drown me
In paperwork and complex incomplete thoughts,
And sometimes, every once in a while, it greets,

Like an old friend might, or a fan cheering me on
As I finish a full marathon, barefoot in this rain.
The cursor signals out, like a coast watcher in war,

Like a frantic radioman as his Titanic goes down,
Like a traffic light and a really bad intersection,
The corner of my life and all these blank pages.

It winks off and on as if it were counting down
From some set number, a bit out of rhythm,
Like a poorly tuned heartbeat, a pulse beat

To check on and hope for, like an anxious medic
Triaging on a blank battlefield, a reassuring beat
Playing on, restlessly wanting me to respond.

Poet's Contemplation - A Poem by G. S. Katz - Appreciate Language and Form through the Best Contemporary Poetry

Poet's Contemplation – A Poem by G. S. Katz

We feel too damn much
Rather than going too far inside
or drinking to oblivion
We write

The writing saved me
Opened up new worlds
Gave me a voice that lay hidden
Helped me reach across the aisle to touch

Sometimes we write the same thing to death
Other times we nail it spot on
Often we are searching for the perfect verse
It’s a long game, out on the wing, penning…

Corridors of Time - A Poem by Ananya S. Guha - Appreciate Language and Form through the Best Contemporary Poetry

Corridors of Time – A Poem by Ananya S. Guha

It is another day, informal
with these rains hounding you
casting shadows across hills
inside the worm creeps, desultory walking
monotones increase
so do drones of heavy vehicles, let’s go a roundabout way, placing myths in corridors of time.

A Phantasma - A Poem by Ananya Dhawan - Appreciate Language and Form through the Best Contemporary Poetry

A Phantasma – A Poem by Ananya Dhawan

I swam across seas
blinded by thrill,
I knew no one.
When the waves rose
to touch the shore
I rose too,
the apprehension within me
solid to the touch.

I flew across skies
Managing to avoid
those voiceless shrieks,
the vivid fears,
the piercing pulls of gravity.

I ran across mountains,
braving the days
braving the nights
and everything in between.

I was shaken from a stupor,
The blindfold removed
I felt the transition
I felt me
The phantasma was real…

How Can I Be Benign (Again)? - A Poem by Ananya S. Guha - Appreciate Language and Form through the Best Contemporary Poetry

How Can I Be Benign (Again)? – A Poem by Ananya S. Guha

How can I be benign again
blood on my hands
yours too
blood in the skies
spilled on the road
wipe them off, how can I be benign again?
Mild flutter of the wind
blood stutters
blood in these rains from the firmament
how can I be benign again
as it takes time for the blood to coagulate, turn fiery red?

Writing in Woe - A Poem by Pragati Gupta - Appreciate Language and Form through the Best Contemporary Poetry

Writing in Woe – A Poem by Pragati Gupta

I’m writing less these days.
Figuring out the reason
I lose the frame of mind
That has till now
Heated my coffee,
Whose depth you compared
With my navel.

The times you gifted me with
Awaits at my threshold
Not to enter into my domicile
But to resurrect in me
The ancient tradition
Of coating love with courtly songs
Where I’m Petrarch
And you my Laurel,
Coronating the chase with
A second’s glance of the Human-god.

Woe seems me.

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