Generation Y – A fine response
Somewhere, this morning, I read that Generation Y is burdened with fear. They have grown on digital satisfaction, a cyberspace world quite at their command. They hardly ever had to
ABOUT POETRY, ART, AND SOCIAL JUSTICE
Somewhere, this morning, I read that Generation Y is burdened with fear. They have grown on digital satisfaction, a cyberspace world quite at their command. They hardly ever had to
Snow weighing heavy on the world hiding the dirt, the ugly, and the grey calming down the hustle of a life less lived covering the wounds of a soil battered
Christmas is looming around the next corner; cards and parcels sent and received. At the post office (I wipe off my shoes) I send off a present to friends in
…imagine that, white spoiled stuffed trash: tomorrow you’d wake up broke, syrian, lame, or black, imagine that…
how could i not be myself? how could i not listen to what earth was telling me? nature pulled away and i disappeared in appearances i lost my laugh between
(because every now and then I ask myself: is it still there, the willingness to choose the less obvious path?) When fog has slid off the up-rolling hills, Will I
in the shade of splendid words we hide our fears & shed our guilt defend a house of cards we will in the nook of sparkling phrase we burn our
Morrow calls the late sun to rise to carry away the raw nights of ice I failed the riches in bleakest of life and buried the poorness in crustiest glaze
Where have you been the son of the wisdom The home was abandoned in mighty old storms Where have you been the daughter of patience The garden ran riot in
What is up – is it down? What is left – is it right? What is red – is it blue? What is dusk – is it dawn? What is
(because sometimes I have more bills than income) Sculptures © A. Tallil Go to the king and pay your tithe it’s wise it’s wise it’s wise it’s wise no way
(for my mother who would have turned 85 today) Betwixt the primal automn air I stroll along on worn out fields; I look for her in glowing leaves that tumble
Part 1: We call for Purple to turn into night and find that Green is common and trite When Red performs in fire and motion then Orange becomes a reddish
Had longed to hear the colour’s song had searched for substance in the light had called the stars for comfort’s sight but none so far had given way so my
Little petal’s white on the grass They have been thrown – simply to pass Noble peacock’s call in the grove They have been reared – only to rove Tender lamb’s
Words that tumbled through head & meadows were randomly danced in sound & in echoes there wasn’t a score or a note to be followed then why does it feel
I The rains of eyes have left a stream; the thoughts of morn upset the mist II I’ve lost my footsteps in the mud; have searched the skies and found
Drops of chant leaves of mist hands of light have kissed our lives and yet we do not realize birds of airs rivers of kind words of light have served
Septemberwings they bring the chill to pull off summertired leaves to suck the breath off warmer lakes I learned the seasons by my heart they know on how to play
The head is filled with pain and flashes a splinter of a memory sable dust on open wounds becomes a human’s tragedy The house is worn with holes and bruises
Mother dear I know it’s age that runs away on riverbeds your patterned swimsuit on my mind I was so small and you so tall now I have grown into
There are many sights to Wonderful many names to God many views to Life There are many hues to Colourful many sounds to Earth many believes to Men and all
It is the hope for a window agleam in an open house when tundra nights stretch beyond the morrows It is the hope for a roof ahead in a faithful
cloudswimming, sunsinging wallshifting, treelifting Who says if all is set and done when just one voice can crack the dawn? goldbreaking, tearbaking muddancing, lightlancing Who sets the rules of whole
a rip in the haze a split in the rays a seed in the bloom a room in the womb a print in the cloud so not to end in
This post was written for Sakshis’ Blog, which you can find here. She is (in her own words) “An Electrical Engineer by profession, A poet at heart, A drama queen in real
Poison seeping from my bones dripping into convenient veins beguiling stomach, heart and brain till dust and rust are left to call No hunger nor ache no sickness nor chain
I am Northwest the moss of the tree the damp, the dark, the direful me; the one that only the brown owl can see… My malice, my caution will keep
It tosses and spins my body is skins (and I cannot hold for sunbeams to crush the implacable slush) It creeks and groans my organs are bones (and I cannot
You (Yes, you!) who swallows that petrol until your mind turns raven-hued You thought it’ll last forevermore Mind you! Life always asks for what it’s dued D’you think the subduer
Shut my head block my eyes forget, forget that I’m alive. Greys of rain-twines irk my being enough, enough, you springtime fleeing! Bolt the house secure the yard recall, recall
Epilogue Look me up when moonlight calls, roll me in your gentle dreams soak me with your animus and guide me through your reverie. Take me on this twilight fancy,
Let ’em out, the somber horses let ’em pound the stones and sludge let ’em run on nightfall’s ardor ’til they trampled all those forces Let ’em out, the piercing
Cut! The knife is thrust there is no blood: just here it turns Bitter movement in my bust there is no pain: just here it churns Slight betrayal of my
A girl who clutches her trembling legs her frame for final salvation it begs there is no protection to obtain just crude abuse; an innocence to feign A boy who
Today women around the world will dance against violence and rape (see http://onebillionrising.org/) A small poem is my contribution: A silent soul in tortured pain She cries and moans, it’s all
Remember that snowball afternoon? You said you’d never ever sold my heart and body to the chillywet cold how I lulled myself in that cocoon So why do you think
There is a murmur in the wall it burdens my soul with an eerie call ponderous thoughts are cast my way for on my brain they all will prey They
The mountains bask on violent mist to breath untainted, polished air The waters long for pebbles on shore in quest of peace with a land dressed in anger Blood dripping
FORGET THE DAYS Disappear in sand and laughter Cover my brain in cement and plaster Forget the days when black engulfs me… Then colour my world in pink and air
Transforming Education, and Leadership, Transcending Where We Each Are in Life
Shape Your Mind, Body, and Spirit to Prosperity
ABOUT POETRY, ART, AND SOCIAL JUSTICE
Life always keeps moving, whether we want it to or not. We need to keep moving with it.
Aspergers syndrome, bipolarity, photography, art, poetry.
Writer's Official Site
"Eye Fly High"
Seeking Solace in the Horizon & Beyond
Inspirational, Motivational, and Heartwarming Stories
La vie est belle
World Magazine of Choice
Electronic thoughts Follow me and enjoy !
Dabbles in writing, loves music and nature. Sierra Leonean
Musings on poetry, language, perception, numbers, food, and anything else that slips through the cracks.
Live, like the moment belongs to you
• Hugs and Infinities
reflection + romance + release
Words from the poemetry unit
A daily selection of the best content published on WordPress, collected for you by humans who love to read.
Adventure - Photography - Videography - Travel
Celebrating Nature and Magic for Kids of all Ages
Because the life is simply too short.
''Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.'' Benjamin Franklin
My art, designs and what inspires me
big book guy
Poesie
”Writing is nothing more than a guided dream” -Jorge Luis Borges
Poems from life
Divorce after 50 with grace, dignity and a Chihuahua
Author - Updates and Upcoming Release
Presenting Life Delicacies with a Pinch of Salt
New content every Sunday.
.....travel treasures.....
Smidgens
Dreams, thoughts & emotions
an independent, not for profit, publishing agent focusing on supporting the working author and non-profit organizations
If you want to be a hero well just follow me
Prime my subconscious, one hint at a time
Lutte contre le racisme anti-Noir-e-s
Word-Experimentalist
Innovative food recipes written in an unorthodox format - masalahealth.in (Author: Sylvia Dias)
Poetry written by Katrina Cain
We're all in a story.