Full Charge | Izzy Noon
My battery is running
low until I see you
in the morning,
birds serenade us
as we meet again, a
steaming cup of tea
our point on reunion.
poetry website
Wishes | Ananya S. Guha
Today I felt the wind in my bones, which shoved me to the earth where leaves fallen raised the alarm of another world. Tempestuous, hurly-burly wind, tornado of explicit statement. It disturbs equipoise and restores insanity in a poised world. Forgive this bellicosity, but the wind in my home is a real occurrence, the hills quake with fear. A gentle nudge and I am done. The night’s event is the wind choking dogs outside, and me buried deep deep in dreams which surface in a maelstrom of wishes.
Home | Andromeda
Home’s a space in my heart,
Where I laugh and cry
Home’s a blossomed love
And flowers that die
Home’s my mother’s breast,
And my lover’s embrace
Home’s my child’s sweet smile,
And my day of toils endless
My home I create with care
And a world I destroy.
Home’s the evening breeze
After a sweltering noon
Home’s a shelter secure
And bondage not torn.
My home I build with care,
my home at will ignore
In my home I live, of it I dream,
for my home I long
Years on years go by,
my search for home goes on.
Lathe | Nate Maye
I turn
and turn
an image,
I chip
away what
does not
look like me
my vision
until there
is barely
a visible line
toothpick thin.
The Change | William Swales
Walk this path
Moonlight stroll
Dreams of you
Days of old
Life was good
Love was full
Leaves now drop
Autumn cool
Emptiness fills
deep inside
Like naked forests
whose leaves
have died
Opened up
for all to see
No you
beside me
No birds in trees
Now you’re gone
A Summer fling
Missing now
the birds
that sing
Wonder how
things fell apart
Walk this path
to mend my heart
Family of Vipers | Andromeda
A family of vipers
lying in grass
innocuous to look at
letting people pass.
A family of vipers
watching each shift
gimlet eyed attention
waiting for a rift.
A family of vipers
hiding in menace
flashing of forked tongue
enjoying distress.
A family of vipers
closing in for kill
a single deadly strike
and watch lives spill.
A Focus on Gesture | JD DeHart
Where did these various
signs and gesticulations
bubble up from? The bottom
of bleachers, candy wrapper
comics, bathroom stalls?
Were they taught to us
by some kindly giant
with a Scottish name? And
where does language come
from, after all, a seamstress
of sound sitting in our
mind with nothing better to
do but unravel words?
More at http://jddehartwriting.blogspot.com.
Anonymous Place | JD DeHart
Slip in and out
with barely a sound,
this is the comfort
of large gatherings
In the small spaces
you are known, related,
people even hug you
and share their maladies
But these grand expanses
afford us the opportunity
to observe then slide
away at our convenience.
More at http://jddehartwriting.blogspot.com.
Recurring | Guy Farmer
It happens much
More often than
He would prefer:
Something doesn’t
Work and requires
Endless research
And trial and error
To fix, consuming
A lot of time for
Very little reward,
A recurring struggle
Self-perpetuating,
Never seems to
Have pity on him.
More minimalist poetry at https://www.unconventionalbeing.com/.
Cope | Nate Maye
How do you
cope with passing
once the rain
has ended
once the reign
is over, a new
face on the throne.