The contagion spread to West Virginia |
Nominated for the Pushcart Prize and for Best of the Net, Sibanda is the author of Notes, Themes, Things And Other Things, The Gushungo Way, Sleeping Rivers, Love O’clock, The Dead Must Be Sobbing, Football of Fools, Cutting-edge Cache, Of the Saliva and the Tongue, When Inspiration Sings In Silence, The Way Forward, The Ndaba Jamela and Collections and Poetry Pharmacy . https://www.pagespineficshowcase.com/ndaba-sibanda.html. https://ndabasibanda.wordpress.com/2017/03/26/first-blog-post/ https://www.amazon.com/Ndaba-Jamela-Collections-Sibanda/dp/1712864173 http://ourpoetryarchive.blogspot.com/2020/03/ndaba-sibanda.html https://poetrypoeticspleasureezine.wordpress.com/2020/03/19/ppp-ezine-poetrypoeticspleasureezine-volume-4-issue-3-march-2020/ |
Her Idiosyncratic Inscriptions
on the quicksand of life and time
she paddled without plummeting
through a sea of lows without lime
she imagined a love without an ending
a love rooted in making mysteries
on the pages of readers` minds
like lip-smacking strawberries
and ear-massaging sounds
indeed at the heart of what she did
was grit & wit: she was superb in her craft
her long pieces were distinctive and lucid
there was something salient in her draft
on the sheets and streets of time and history
she cultivated a profounder understanding
of love and relationships, it was all her story--
the flight of fright but never ever debarking!
she paddled without plummeting
through a sea of lows without lime
she imagined a love without an ending
a love rooted in making mysteries
on the pages of readers` minds
like lip-smacking strawberries
and ear-massaging sounds
indeed at the heart of what she did
was grit & wit: she was superb in her craft
her long pieces were distinctive and lucid
there was something salient in her draft
on the sheets and streets of time and history
she cultivated a profounder understanding
of love and relationships, it was all her story--
the flight of fright but never ever debarking!
To Set Her Heart On Fire
to set the much-needed dialogue in motion
there had to be poetry & poetry & devotion
she didn’t mince her words at all, she hit it
she demanded & desired to see nothing short of it:
she called for an ecstatic expression of emotions
a freely & furiously lively ,lovely exhibition of yens
a river filled with an explosion of verve and verse
and that was her basis for an engagement, a discourse
there had to be poetry & poetry & devotion
she didn’t mince her words at all, she hit it
she demanded & desired to see nothing short of it:
she called for an ecstatic expression of emotions
a freely & furiously lively ,lovely exhibition of yens
a river filled with an explosion of verve and verse
and that was her basis for an engagement, a discourse
Our Dreams No Longer Dance Across The Sky
You cannot be too high
I'm speaking directly to you Sky
You need to change for the better
Climate Change, right now, I`m bitter!
Sing me a song of a river that will dance with belief
Sing me a song that will bustle with a sea of relief
And extinguish our miseries of dryness and drought
Our beasts are dying, our crops wilting, where is delight?
Sing me a song of a sky that won`t be too high for a downpour
Our land now is bereft of grain, but sing of a rain that will soon pour
Our dear landscape has become a playground for a merciless heatwave
Climate Change, you`re cruel & crude, a furnace that hasn’t come to save
Your palms are unappealing, unpolished, unprecedented and unpredictable
Sheep perish without a baa and clang, clang you ring your bell that is terrible!
I'm speaking directly to you Sky
You need to change for the better
Climate Change, right now, I`m bitter!
Sing me a song of a river that will dance with belief
Sing me a song that will bustle with a sea of relief
And extinguish our miseries of dryness and drought
Our beasts are dying, our crops wilting, where is delight?
Sing me a song of a sky that won`t be too high for a downpour
Our land now is bereft of grain, but sing of a rain that will soon pour
Our dear landscape has become a playground for a merciless heatwave
Climate Change, you`re cruel & crude, a furnace that hasn’t come to save
Your palms are unappealing, unpolished, unprecedented and unpredictable
Sheep perish without a baa and clang, clang you ring your bell that is terrible!
The Values Of A Given Time And Generation
The Linkster Generation or Generation 2 is linked
To social media: on the net they gobble info, date
On the net they study, live and love, and get married
On the net they sometimes get blocked, robbed, right?!
The Millennials were quoted as more assertive
And socially liberal. With a stout sense of civic duty
And a healthy work-life-- they were vocal and active
I think they were against conditions which were sooty!
Be quiet…from the Silent Generation came the Generation X
The 1960s saw some shifting social values: more ladies at work
In an election a voter may crown their nominee via a bold ‘X’
In the 1960s more divorces hollered, hovered like Noah`s ark!
What`s the fuss about a generation and its age range?
19th century marked the naming of a 30 year- old generation
Because of social change, a loose, lousy explanation that’s strange
An establishment was challenged, age-wise without a set definition!
To social media: on the net they gobble info, date
On the net they study, live and love, and get married
On the net they sometimes get blocked, robbed, right?!
The Millennials were quoted as more assertive
And socially liberal. With a stout sense of civic duty
And a healthy work-life-- they were vocal and active
I think they were against conditions which were sooty!
Be quiet…from the Silent Generation came the Generation X
The 1960s saw some shifting social values: more ladies at work
In an election a voter may crown their nominee via a bold ‘X’
In the 1960s more divorces hollered, hovered like Noah`s ark!
What`s the fuss about a generation and its age range?
19th century marked the naming of a 30 year- old generation
Because of social change, a loose, lousy explanation that’s strange
An establishment was challenged, age-wise without a set definition!
New Kids' Register Riddles
2026: Marking The Preschool Register
Teacher: if you're present, say 'present'
And, if you are not here just say 'absent'
Corona 2020. Silence. Teacher: 'That's a pass!'
Wear A Mask.' Yes'. Teacher: Say 'present please'.
Lowdown. ‘Lockdown’. Teacher: ‘Lord have mercy!’
Can`t read this.’Qua…Quarrel?’ Kid: ‘I`m Quarantine’
Was Hands.' I'm Wash Hands'. Teacher: 'My apologies!'
Sanity-seizer. ‘I’m Sanitizer'. Teacher: 'For a reason!'
Coffee Fit 9.' l'm COVID-19'. Teacher: 'Sorry, whatever'
Self-lation.'I'm Self-isolation'. Teacher: 'Hmmm, l see'.
Loves.’l' m Gloves.' Teacher: 'Like hand in glove, kid!'
Pandemics. 'Absent' Teacher. 'Wow'. Kid: 'Coz l hate 'em'
Teacher: if you're present, say 'present'
And, if you are not here just say 'absent'
Corona 2020. Silence. Teacher: 'That's a pass!'
Wear A Mask.' Yes'. Teacher: Say 'present please'.
Lowdown. ‘Lockdown’. Teacher: ‘Lord have mercy!’
Can`t read this.’Qua…Quarrel?’ Kid: ‘I`m Quarantine’
Was Hands.' I'm Wash Hands'. Teacher: 'My apologies!'
Sanity-seizer. ‘I’m Sanitizer'. Teacher: 'For a reason!'
Coffee Fit 9.' l'm COVID-19'. Teacher: 'Sorry, whatever'
Self-lation.'I'm Self-isolation'. Teacher: 'Hmmm, l see'.
Loves.’l' m Gloves.' Teacher: 'Like hand in glove, kid!'
Pandemics. 'Absent' Teacher. 'Wow'. Kid: 'Coz l hate 'em'
He Called Himself Giraffe
That he was a towering figure was no debate
That he was a ‘giraffe’ was a rarity to celebrate
He called himself a giraffe, though some found it odd
He found it a tall order why they would fuss or be sad
Numerous souls on the streets raised eyebrows
Each time he appeared they gave him stares
Not that he was a superstar by any measure
Out of courtesy, they would say it was a pleasure
Oddly their gentility made him feel like an idol of sorts!
Behind his back they said he had a habit of saying truths
Which meant that possibly he was economical with the truth!
Maybe people didn’t understand his register, he was no youth
I`ll die if I don’t read a book week in week out, he would say
Liar or a bookworm? Did his hyperbole get other people astray?
In the face of other people`s incompetence, he said: great job!
Was that a lie or a piece irony? When they said liar he didn’t sob.
One analyst said anyone who called himself a giraffe had an idiolect
Which could confuse people, and on how to say things he had to select
That he was a ‘giraffe’ was a rarity to celebrate
He called himself a giraffe, though some found it odd
He found it a tall order why they would fuss or be sad
Numerous souls on the streets raised eyebrows
Each time he appeared they gave him stares
Not that he was a superstar by any measure
Out of courtesy, they would say it was a pleasure
Oddly their gentility made him feel like an idol of sorts!
Behind his back they said he had a habit of saying truths
Which meant that possibly he was economical with the truth!
Maybe people didn’t understand his register, he was no youth
I`ll die if I don’t read a book week in week out, he would say
Liar or a bookworm? Did his hyperbole get other people astray?
In the face of other people`s incompetence, he said: great job!
Was that a lie or a piece irony? When they said liar he didn’t sob.
One analyst said anyone who called himself a giraffe had an idiolect
Which could confuse people, and on how to say things he had to select
Feel The Feat On The Horizon
here`s to a fruitful year
hilly or dicey, don’t tear
here`s proud Prospect Road
hope our silent ,sure sword
hooray to an attitude of victory
high it heals even a hurting history!
hilly or dicey, don’t tear
here`s proud Prospect Road
hope our silent ,sure sword
hooray to an attitude of victory
high it heals even a hurting history!
Of Animal And Bird Parents
Let me put your parenting skills
Under the microscope, my thrills!
You share your food with the young
You eat, regurgitate for the fledging
What childcare, what love & nurturing
You, bird parents take turns food hunting
I adore how you bring food to the nest
You feed the chicks as if you don’t rest!
You, dogs and cats hunt and share the kill
Mother dogs help the pups to eat to the fill
I see animals bring down prey and feast
In a social order, in packs, this, that beast
I see parent animals teach their young
To walk, hunt & who says that`s wrong?
Apes & simians feed each other when caring
For the wounded or the ill, when …yes, dating!
I don’t know whether elephants teach their young
Courting, but yes, food choices & a good tongue!
Under the microscope, my thrills!
You share your food with the young
You eat, regurgitate for the fledging
What childcare, what love & nurturing
You, bird parents take turns food hunting
I adore how you bring food to the nest
You feed the chicks as if you don’t rest!
You, dogs and cats hunt and share the kill
Mother dogs help the pups to eat to the fill
I see animals bring down prey and feast
In a social order, in packs, this, that beast
I see parent animals teach their young
To walk, hunt & who says that`s wrong?
Apes & simians feed each other when caring
For the wounded or the ill, when …yes, dating!
I don’t know whether elephants teach their young
Courting, but yes, food choices & a good tongue!
Her Finest Chef Ever
His fiancée was on the edge
Of starvation, or that`s what
She disclosed as she entered
It was a windy and dusty day
Of his food—cockerel and rice--
His beautiful black bride tasted,
Exclaimed: oh as sweet as ginger!
The stove regretfully watches
The real rooster that looks alive
And ready to crow as if to mark
The break of dawn…it has dawned
On me that my groom is one
Of the best chefs on this Earth!
This must be sweet, sweet medicine!
Its pleasantness has slain my starvation
Thanks, just perfect for this beautiful day!
Of starvation, or that`s what
She disclosed as she entered
It was a windy and dusty day
Of his food—cockerel and rice--
His beautiful black bride tasted,
Exclaimed: oh as sweet as ginger!
The stove regretfully watches
The real rooster that looks alive
And ready to crow as if to mark
The break of dawn…it has dawned
On me that my groom is one
Of the best chefs on this Earth!
This must be sweet, sweet medicine!
Its pleasantness has slain my starvation
Thanks, just perfect for this beautiful day!
Looking Up
As the drunk teacher was saying:
The hum of the computer
Was a common feature
In 5 BC one student
Was looking up:
Anachronism
The hum of the computer
Was a common feature
In 5 BC one student
Was looking up:
Anachronism
The Unreadable Dictionaries Of Our Actions
We are the idioms of our time, our sphere
for we belong to the same era, ecosphere,
yet, were are like measly words whose ovaries
and gist no soul can establish from the glossaries
of our shady actions. A life whose paths lead to ruin
as the world struggles with floods or lack of rain.
Our consumption patterns, our careless lifestyles,
our previous actions and decisions are our dirty files
that should be our proverbs for posterity and stability
yet we fail to infer from the lessons of our stupidity,
from wise sayings. A life whose paths lead to ruin
as the world struggles with floods or lack of rain.
for we belong to the same era, ecosphere,
yet, were are like measly words whose ovaries
and gist no soul can establish from the glossaries
of our shady actions. A life whose paths lead to ruin
as the world struggles with floods or lack of rain.
Our consumption patterns, our careless lifestyles,
our previous actions and decisions are our dirty files
that should be our proverbs for posterity and stability
yet we fail to infer from the lessons of our stupidity,
from wise sayings. A life whose paths lead to ruin
as the world struggles with floods or lack of rain.
Ahead Of Themselves
They came along dressed in joy
Their national flags set to decoy
They drummed, drank, sang, danced
Till time tottered, tilted, talked, tranced
They got ahead of themselves with delight
They stole a hive of hearts into the night
Their national flags set to decoy
They drummed, drank, sang, danced
Till time tottered, tilted, talked, tranced
They got ahead of themselves with delight
They stole a hive of hearts into the night
We Are Not An Error But The Idioms Of Our Era
We are the idioms of our time, a huge cabinet
We belong together, to this earth, this planet
Why do we thrive in muddle and destruction?
Walk in the ravines of unease and corruption?
Like words whose meanings cannot be found
From the literal or dictionaries that are sound
Let us be the proverbs: our lives are short
Let no hate thrive or live or receive support
Lessons on climate change need to be inferred
From wise sayings, actions or so advised a nerd
We belong together, to this earth, this planet
Why do we thrive in muddle and destruction?
Walk in the ravines of unease and corruption?
Like words whose meanings cannot be found
From the literal or dictionaries that are sound
Let us be the proverbs: our lives are short
Let no hate thrive or live or receive support
Lessons on climate change need to be inferred
From wise sayings, actions or so advised a nerd
When She Was Doing Her Thing
abandoned but adopted,
uplifted at a tender age
her first love was singing
she didn’t ditch it but later
came on poetry and pulled
dazzling darling Sisa away
her poetic exploits
manifested in magic
she kept eyes glued
ears riveted, soothed
hers were pretty pieces
performed with verve
her presence was perfect
an infectious experience
undeniable, compelling
her style just engrossing
the very prescription for fun
her poetry poured out the Sun!
one felt her brilliance, her beauty
her freshness pruned into pureness
ideas floated with glee, a sea, a tide
of tears toured out of one`s heart
for her voice had vitality , her words
had a wildness , a will, wisdom and wit
it detained, constrained a reader,
a listener, an outsider, a viewer
to forget one`s cares, woes, wars
to feel the deepest, highest of art
to dance in poetic purity, power
to come bounding to the shore!
uplifted at a tender age
her first love was singing
she didn’t ditch it but later
came on poetry and pulled
dazzling darling Sisa away
her poetic exploits
manifested in magic
she kept eyes glued
ears riveted, soothed
hers were pretty pieces
performed with verve
her presence was perfect
an infectious experience
undeniable, compelling
her style just engrossing
the very prescription for fun
her poetry poured out the Sun!
one felt her brilliance, her beauty
her freshness pruned into pureness
ideas floated with glee, a sea, a tide
of tears toured out of one`s heart
for her voice had vitality , her words
had a wildness , a will, wisdom and wit
it detained, constrained a reader,
a listener, an outsider, a viewer
to forget one`s cares, woes, wars
to feel the deepest, highest of art
to dance in poetic purity, power
to come bounding to the shore!
Joe Oppenheimer is an award winning poet and fiction writer. His poems focus on our feelings of injustice, loss, friendship, nature, aging, and the foibles of life. His short story “Charlemagne” is anthologized in Us Against Alzheimer’s: Stories of Family, Love, and Faith. ed. Marita Golden (New York: Arcade, 2019). Previously a professor of mathematical social science at the University of Maryland, his poems, stories and a play have been published in Origins, Chronogram, Foliate Oak Literary Review, Corvus Review, and Scarlet Leaf Review, among others. Many of his writings are available on his website http://www.gvptsites.umd.edu/oppenheimer/. |
INTERIORS
I go to Google
line up cross hairs
move camera up stairs
find just where streets cross
but can’t see inside her purse
or pierce her mind to find
the purpose
of that gun.
line up cross hairs
move camera up stairs
find just where streets cross
but can’t see inside her purse
or pierce her mind to find
the purpose
of that gun.
THE FOG
Fog floods
rubs rust
with greys. Grass
sways in front
of slightly
seen silhouettes:
trees sketched onto
Silver.
As it lifts
the fog gives
back colors,
the whole scene,
and we come
to know who
we are and
where we stand.
rubs rust
with greys. Grass
sways in front
of slightly
seen silhouettes:
trees sketched onto
Silver.
As it lifts
the fog gives
back colors,
the whole scene,
and we come
to know who
we are and
where we stand.
Jean Fineberg is a professional jazz musician whose poet father left a new poem for her every day. She recently unearthed a book of poems she wrote when she was eight years old. Jean has studied with celebrated poet Kim Addonizio, and has been published in Soliloquies Anthology, Vita Brevis Anthology, Uppagus, Riza Press, FLARE: The Flagler Review and Literary Yard. She has received seven residency fellowships at art centers around the USA, where she alternates between writing poetry and music. |
In The Shadow of Fame
I was a tiny star
in a big galaxy
backing big stars in arenas
where nobody knew my name
posed wearing only silver paint
for People Magazine
played a TV show on a rotating platform
stoned on mescaline
did what I thought a star should do
seduced groupies
the doe-eyed teenager
with “help me” scratched on her stomach
the waitress
who cried all night
the bikini girl
who slept with all the boys too
when the shadow of fame grew long
and the big stars deatomized
some morphed into holograms
and started GoFundMe campaigns
I’m a big star in a tiny galaxy
world famous in my town
in a big galaxy
backing big stars in arenas
where nobody knew my name
posed wearing only silver paint
for People Magazine
played a TV show on a rotating platform
stoned on mescaline
did what I thought a star should do
seduced groupies
the doe-eyed teenager
with “help me” scratched on her stomach
the waitress
who cried all night
the bikini girl
who slept with all the boys too
when the shadow of fame grew long
and the big stars deatomized
some morphed into holograms
and started GoFundMe campaigns
I’m a big star in a tiny galaxy
world famous in my town
Bragging Rights
My father wanted me to be a doctor
but he lost bragging rights because I’m a blues musician
I play him my latest recording
He shuts it off, saying the drums are offensive
They remind him of those awful boys with gold teeth and backward caps
who pull their cars up too close and blast their so-called music
I snatch back my CD
At his 80-year-old friend’s dinner party, I give it to the host
Who passes it around and proudly plays the whole thing
really, really loud
but he lost bragging rights because I’m a blues musician
I play him my latest recording
He shuts it off, saying the drums are offensive
They remind him of those awful boys with gold teeth and backward caps
who pull their cars up too close and blast their so-called music
I snatch back my CD
At his 80-year-old friend’s dinner party, I give it to the host
Who passes it around and proudly plays the whole thing
really, really loud
Openings and Closings
When my heart was ready,
I lifted my mother’s album
bulging, tattered
from so many openings and closings
glamorous headshots and movie stills
as Martha Graham’s youngest dancer
Broadway programs and playbills
and New York Times reviews
square snapshots
with ombre scalloped edges
retired
from their mounting corners
here she is as a Thai princess
surrounded by courtiers
her hands
doing their own ballet
as Dorothy in toe shoes
and a pinafore
flanked by the Tin Man
and Scarecrow
The binding, disintegrated
like her bones
The cover, a half hinged door
pendulous like her skin
A career
of yellowed clippings
and a dancer
freed from their moorings
I scoop up the flaky scraps
and watch them pirouette
into her favorite vase,
next to the urn with her ashes
I lifted my mother’s album
bulging, tattered
from so many openings and closings
glamorous headshots and movie stills
as Martha Graham’s youngest dancer
Broadway programs and playbills
and New York Times reviews
square snapshots
with ombre scalloped edges
retired
from their mounting corners
here she is as a Thai princess
surrounded by courtiers
her hands
doing their own ballet
as Dorothy in toe shoes
and a pinafore
flanked by the Tin Man
and Scarecrow
The binding, disintegrated
like her bones
The cover, a half hinged door
pendulous like her skin
A career
of yellowed clippings
and a dancer
freed from their moorings
I scoop up the flaky scraps
and watch them pirouette
into her favorite vase,
next to the urn with her ashes
The Accidental Parent
Your mother said she’s not a kid person
but you needed to root in good soil
she offered, and I took you
You never said “you’re not my mom”
When I checked your backpack
and made you change that shirt
When I found your weed
you asked, “can I run away?”
I said “no that’s not how we solve things”
You wouldn’t let me hug you
when I took your arm
you slipped it out of your sleeve
I never said “you’re not my child”
when the police delivered you drunk
and you hit me
You ignored me
at your graduation
so I snuck photos
you introduced me as mother
I’m happy to be auntie
but you’ll always be my daughter
but you needed to root in good soil
she offered, and I took you
You never said “you’re not my mom”
When I checked your backpack
and made you change that shirt
When I found your weed
you asked, “can I run away?”
I said “no that’s not how we solve things”
You wouldn’t let me hug you
when I took your arm
you slipped it out of your sleeve
I never said “you’re not my child”
when the police delivered you drunk
and you hit me
You ignored me
at your graduation
so I snuck photos
you introduced me as mother
I’m happy to be auntie
but you’ll always be my daughter
Vernal Musinigs
(1)
early spring
purple pushes
on the screen door
plumes
of lavender
and lilac
and once again
love seems
possible
(2)
With dizzying delirium
I drop, dazed,
into the blaze
of blood orange
California poppies
my angel escapes,
surfs the Santa Ana winds,
spirals, plummets, and
plops euphoric
into the poppies
chattering
like schoolgirls
on dress-alike day
posing for selfies
for poppygram
early spring
purple pushes
on the screen door
plumes
of lavender
and lilac
and once again
love seems
possible
(2)
With dizzying delirium
I drop, dazed,
into the blaze
of blood orange
California poppies
my angel escapes,
surfs the Santa Ana winds,
spirals, plummets, and
plops euphoric
into the poppies
chattering
like schoolgirls
on dress-alike day
posing for selfies
for poppygram
Lewis is a creative copywriter from Birmingham in the UK. He has been writing poetry and short fiction for years now, with his work featured in publications such as Blood Moon Rising, Indiana Voice Journal, PiF Magazine and Flaneur.
Coveted
Astride the Harbour Bridge, bright radiance
shimmers through an airless summer, and gilds
the passageways of stone and providence.
Were it not for these columns of light, and
their contemplative smoulder, he may
not have glimpsed the portents of her splendour.
Journeyed beneath the steeled arch, she is
heedless of her beauty, as she weaves the
indiscernible threads of time through her
fingers. Then marvels at the neon blaze
of simulated day, its steeples
plunging through a course of cobalt torrents.
Her contemplations, imbued through mottled
rivulets, are not inflected by the
thrusts of his intentions. She is
sentient only to the subtle meld
of dark and light, his presence cast in the
consequent sheathe of far pitched shade.
shimmers through an airless summer, and gilds
the passageways of stone and providence.
Were it not for these columns of light, and
their contemplative smoulder, he may
not have glimpsed the portents of her splendour.
Journeyed beneath the steeled arch, she is
heedless of her beauty, as she weaves the
indiscernible threads of time through her
fingers. Then marvels at the neon blaze
of simulated day, its steeples
plunging through a course of cobalt torrents.
Her contemplations, imbued through mottled
rivulets, are not inflected by the
thrusts of his intentions. She is
sentient only to the subtle meld
of dark and light, his presence cast in the
consequent sheathe of far pitched shade.
Inappropriate
Though
it is
abhorrent
to their senses,
duplicity plays amongst
licentious thoughts. Whilst
their tongues sculpt guileless
words, their bodies proffer narrative
to the tacit deeds of furtive lust.
it is
abhorrent
to their senses,
duplicity plays amongst
licentious thoughts. Whilst
their tongues sculpt guileless
words, their bodies proffer narrative
to the tacit deeds of furtive lust.
The Whisper of Fingertips
As one beneath the spill of moonlight,
their essence braced against the cold,
as slithered, silver seepings
illume the twilight’s mould;
and hue the pale
of winters drift,
a deeper
shade of
old.
No
words are
spoken in
the moment; no
trace of sound is made.
Instead, his muse slow creeps,
by whisper of fingertips,
each hushed stroke a faithless promise,
a temperate touch to coax her sin.
their essence braced against the cold,
as slithered, silver seepings
illume the twilight’s mould;
and hue the pale
of winters drift,
a deeper
shade of
old.
No
words are
spoken in
the moment; no
trace of sound is made.
Instead, his muse slow creeps,
by whisper of fingertips,
each hushed stroke a faithless promise,
a temperate touch to coax her sin.
Serjevah Davis is a writer and University of West Florida graduate from Tampa, FL. Her poems have been featured in The Big Windows Review, Rigorous Magazine and Poesis Literary Journal. She currently resides in Minneapolis, MN pursuing various literature projects and hopes to publish poetry and fiction full-time.
This Joyful Man of Night
Mouth open
wide
He proudly displayed how
he held the stars and planets
between
his opal teeth
How galaxies
slicked across umber gums
cupped like Queen Butterflies
nestled
among the Valerians in June
How glittering rings
of smoke
carouseled over and around his tongue
And crackled
at the back of his
coruscating throat
wide
He proudly displayed how
he held the stars and planets
between
his opal teeth
How galaxies
slicked across umber gums
cupped like Queen Butterflies
nestled
among the Valerians in June
How glittering rings
of smoke
carouseled over and around his tongue
And crackled
at the back of his
coruscating throat
The Vanishing
the last watched
themselves multiply with infinite
complacency
their empire under microscope
of curious thought -
perhaps
that vast disillusionment revolves about
the hypothesis of existence -
Vanity
expressed
from life's beginning
themselves multiply with infinite
complacency
their empire under microscope
of curious thought -
perhaps
that vast disillusionment revolves about
the hypothesis of existence -
Vanity
expressed
from life's beginning
The Awakening
Who can withstand
the impassioned,
the complex –
a reading of heart nature
we've already covenant
between exile and redemption?
As Mountain
of people,
of temple,
of ingathering
Embodying which thunders
that sound
of history through clouds
The coming
A series of –
Followed by –
Periods of –
Leading to –
Forgiveness
and wrath
the impassioned,
the complex –
a reading of heart nature
we've already covenant
between exile and redemption?
As Mountain
of people,
of temple,
of ingathering
Embodying which thunders
that sound
of history through clouds
The coming
A series of –
Followed by –
Periods of –
Leading to –
Forgiveness
and wrath
BOBBY Z is a avid writer and Blogger, also has video’s, audio’s a podcast and has Authored the Book Tales Of The Junkyard Dog. A rather abrupt and unusual Collection of Poems providing insightful and comical commentary on life, the Convergence of the past and the present, and the trails and tribulations of Relationships---BLOG https://talesofthejunkyarddog.wordpress.com BOBBY Z THE JYD, 78 YEAR OLD VET, CANCER SURVIVOR, RECOVERING ALCOHOLIC (41 YEARS) AND ORIGINAL JERSEY CITY 50’S BAD BOY WHO TELLS IT LIKE IT IS FROM THE BELLY OF THE BEAST. |
MISSED THE RING( Re Dux)
I've seen the sun rise, and the sun set.
No time to remember, no time to regret.
The bottle has been empty, many years.
My mind is clear, don't miss the beer.
Sometimes i stumble,but i never fall.
My glass is now empty, i'm standing tall.
I've spent a lifetime, not taking any shit.
My neglected thoughts and emotions,ain't worth spit.
Time is slipping fast,in the twilight of my years.
My past is on display, no time to shed a tear.
I've taken my turn,and missed the ring.
But i'm satisfied i've achieved my goals, and forever i'll sing.
Its time to realize, you're not someone else, you're your self.
And when you die, they'll put you in a vase, and store you on a FUCK'IN SHELF.
No time to remember, no time to regret.
The bottle has been empty, many years.
My mind is clear, don't miss the beer.
Sometimes i stumble,but i never fall.
My glass is now empty, i'm standing tall.
I've spent a lifetime, not taking any shit.
My neglected thoughts and emotions,ain't worth spit.
Time is slipping fast,in the twilight of my years.
My past is on display, no time to shed a tear.
I've taken my turn,and missed the ring.
But i'm satisfied i've achieved my goals, and forever i'll sing.
Its time to realize, you're not someone else, you're your self.
And when you die, they'll put you in a vase, and store you on a FUCK'IN SHELF.
LOVE IT OR LEAVE IT—“GOD BLESS AMERICA”
Love It Or Leave It, It’s a patriotic phrase.
It Represents True Patriotism, While political correctness has attempted to limit its days.
Love It Or Leave it, Sending our children off to fight distant wars.
Many of our relative were past War Hero’s, While many never returned home from distant shores.
Love It Or Leave It, A symbol of the land of the Brave and the Free.
For those that burn and disrespect it, Should surrender their Liberty.
Love It Or Leave It, We always play by the rules.
We fly our Flag every day, Want the Pledge Of Allegiance to remain in our schools.
Love It Or Leave It, We pay our Taxes and go to work every day.
We always Stand & Salute The Flag., We also choose to go to Church and Pray.
Love It Or Leave it, Abide by our founders laws.
We do not burn or spit upon the Flag, Enter America thru legal doors.
God Bless America, Not heard too often nowadays.
The Left Wing Liberals want it silenced, It’s a symbol of the American way.
Love It Or Leave It, The RED, The White and the BLUE.
Stand up my friends and respect it, The choice is up to you.
It Represents True Patriotism, While political correctness has attempted to limit its days.
Love It Or Leave it, Sending our children off to fight distant wars.
Many of our relative were past War Hero’s, While many never returned home from distant shores.
Love It Or Leave It, A symbol of the land of the Brave and the Free.
For those that burn and disrespect it, Should surrender their Liberty.
Love It Or Leave It, We always play by the rules.
We fly our Flag every day, Want the Pledge Of Allegiance to remain in our schools.
Love It Or Leave It, We pay our Taxes and go to work every day.
We always Stand & Salute The Flag., We also choose to go to Church and Pray.
Love It Or Leave it, Abide by our founders laws.
We do not burn or spit upon the Flag, Enter America thru legal doors.
God Bless America, Not heard too often nowadays.
The Left Wing Liberals want it silenced, It’s a symbol of the American way.
Love It Or Leave It, The RED, The White and the BLUE.
Stand up my friends and respect it, The choice is up to you.
MEMORIES/TOMORROWS
VISIONS OF YESTERDAY.
COLLIDING WITH TOMORROWS.
TO FOREVER BE LOST.
CONDEMNING THE FUTURE TO CONSTANT SORROW.
DILLUTED BY FUTURE TOMORROWS.
NEVER AGAIN TO BE RECAST.
TO REDEENM THE PAST.
THE JOURNRY MUST FOREVER LAST.
MEMORIES OF DAYS GONE BY.
LOCKED AWAY DEEP INSIDE.
TO BE VIEWED ONLY.
AS A OUTGOING INCOMING TIDE.
REVELATIONS OF THE PAST.
QUIETLY EVAPORATE’S WITH TIME.
SLOWLY SAVOR THEM.
AS A BOTTLE OF AGED WINE.
WHAT WAS ONCE.
SO EASILY ERASED.
LOST IN TIME FOREVER.
UNABLE TO EVER BE TRACED.
SIMILAR TO THE PAST.
TOMORROWS ARE ITS RIVALS.
NEVER AGAIN.
TO EXPERIENCE A REVIVAL.
CHERISH THE MEMORIES.
AFTER TOMORROW’S FOREVER GONE.
DIFFICULT TO BE RECLAIMED.
NEW ONES ONCE AGAIN BEGIN AT DAWN.
COLLIDING WITH TOMORROWS.
TO FOREVER BE LOST.
CONDEMNING THE FUTURE TO CONSTANT SORROW.
DILLUTED BY FUTURE TOMORROWS.
NEVER AGAIN TO BE RECAST.
TO REDEENM THE PAST.
THE JOURNRY MUST FOREVER LAST.
MEMORIES OF DAYS GONE BY.
LOCKED AWAY DEEP INSIDE.
TO BE VIEWED ONLY.
AS A OUTGOING INCOMING TIDE.
REVELATIONS OF THE PAST.
QUIETLY EVAPORATE’S WITH TIME.
SLOWLY SAVOR THEM.
AS A BOTTLE OF AGED WINE.
WHAT WAS ONCE.
SO EASILY ERASED.
LOST IN TIME FOREVER.
UNABLE TO EVER BE TRACED.
SIMILAR TO THE PAST.
TOMORROWS ARE ITS RIVALS.
NEVER AGAIN.
TO EXPERIENCE A REVIVAL.
CHERISH THE MEMORIES.
AFTER TOMORROW’S FOREVER GONE.
DIFFICULT TO BE RECLAIMED.
NEW ONES ONCE AGAIN BEGIN AT DAWN.
FOREVER UNTOLD
SO MANY TIMES
AS WE LOOK INTO THE PAST.
WERE THERE EVER ANY MEMORIES.
YOU WANTED TO LAST.
IF YOU WANTED THEM TO LAST.
WOULD THEY HAVE BEEN FEW.
COULD THEY HAVE BEEN OLD.
WOULD THEY HAVE BEEN NEW.
IF THEY WERE NEW.
WHY NOT OLD.
BETTER TO KEEP THEM.
FOREVER UNTOLD.
FOREVER UNTOLD.
NEVER AGAIN TO REAPPEAR.
MUST HAVE BEEN SOMETHING.
THAT CAUSED YOU TO FEAR.
CAUSED YOU TO FEAR.
FROM WHAT MAY HAVE BEEN.
NEVER AGAIN TO BE SEEN.
LOCKED AWAY FOREVER WITHIN.
LOCKED AWAY FOREVER.
WHY MUST IT BE.
HOW BAD COULD IT HAVE BEEN.
THAT NO ONE MUST SEE.
NO ONE MUST SEE.
BETTER TO BE LEFT UNKNOWN.
LEFT UNKNOWN.
ONLY TO BE TOLD BY YOU ALONE.
BY YOU ALONE.
SHALL FOREVER BE UNTOLD.
REMEMBERING THE NEW.
FORGETTING THE OLD.
AS WE LOOK INTO THE PAST.
WERE THERE EVER ANY MEMORIES.
YOU WANTED TO LAST.
IF YOU WANTED THEM TO LAST.
WOULD THEY HAVE BEEN FEW.
COULD THEY HAVE BEEN OLD.
WOULD THEY HAVE BEEN NEW.
IF THEY WERE NEW.
WHY NOT OLD.
BETTER TO KEEP THEM.
FOREVER UNTOLD.
FOREVER UNTOLD.
NEVER AGAIN TO REAPPEAR.
MUST HAVE BEEN SOMETHING.
THAT CAUSED YOU TO FEAR.
CAUSED YOU TO FEAR.
FROM WHAT MAY HAVE BEEN.
NEVER AGAIN TO BE SEEN.
LOCKED AWAY FOREVER WITHIN.
LOCKED AWAY FOREVER.
WHY MUST IT BE.
HOW BAD COULD IT HAVE BEEN.
THAT NO ONE MUST SEE.
NO ONE MUST SEE.
BETTER TO BE LEFT UNKNOWN.
LEFT UNKNOWN.
ONLY TO BE TOLD BY YOU ALONE.
BY YOU ALONE.
SHALL FOREVER BE UNTOLD.
REMEMBERING THE NEW.
FORGETTING THE OLD.
SOMEONE ELSE
WHY MUST IT BE---WHENEVER I ATTEMPT TO BE.
SOMEONE ELSE.
I ALWAYS BECOME ME.
WHO AM I----I’LL NEVER KNOW
LOST IN TIME.
A LONG TIME AGO.
ALL ALONE----WITH NO WHERE TO GO.
ONCE WAS WISE.
NOW OLD AND SLOW.
CONFINED TO THE MEMORIES—OF WHAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN.
NO TIME FOR REGRETS.
THE LIGHTS ARE GETTING DIM.
THERE WAS A TIME---WHEN ALL WAS FUN AND GAMES.
THAT WAS LONG AGO.
I’LL NEVER BE THE SAME.
DEVOTED ALL THE YEARS---TO KEEP ALL SAFE AND STRONG.
NOW ITS MY TURN.
AND EVERYONE HAS GONE HOME.
TRIED TO LIVE LIFE----THE BEST I COULD.
NO ONE TO GUIDE ME.
JUST A BABE IN THE WOODS.
NO ONE THERE TO TELL ME----TO DO OR NOT DO WHAT I DID.
I JUST DID IT.
AND TOOK IT ON THE CHIN.
SOMEDAY---MAYBE I’LL BE FREE.
AND FINALLY HAVE A CHANCE.
TO RETURN TO WHOEVER IS ME.
SOMEONE ELSE.
I ALWAYS BECOME ME.
WHO AM I----I’LL NEVER KNOW
LOST IN TIME.
A LONG TIME AGO.
ALL ALONE----WITH NO WHERE TO GO.
ONCE WAS WISE.
NOW OLD AND SLOW.
CONFINED TO THE MEMORIES—OF WHAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN.
NO TIME FOR REGRETS.
THE LIGHTS ARE GETTING DIM.
THERE WAS A TIME---WHEN ALL WAS FUN AND GAMES.
THAT WAS LONG AGO.
I’LL NEVER BE THE SAME.
DEVOTED ALL THE YEARS---TO KEEP ALL SAFE AND STRONG.
NOW ITS MY TURN.
AND EVERYONE HAS GONE HOME.
TRIED TO LIVE LIFE----THE BEST I COULD.
NO ONE TO GUIDE ME.
JUST A BABE IN THE WOODS.
NO ONE THERE TO TELL ME----TO DO OR NOT DO WHAT I DID.
I JUST DID IT.
AND TOOK IT ON THE CHIN.
SOMEDAY---MAYBE I’LL BE FREE.
AND FINALLY HAVE A CHANCE.
TO RETURN TO WHOEVER IS ME.
VISIONS OF GRANDEUR
VISIONS OF GRANDEUR
INFILTRATE OUR MINDS.
LEAVES US YEARNING.
FOR THAT SPECIAL TIME.
CONSOLIDATING OUR DESIRES.
WAS IT A DREAM OR WAS IT REAL.
DID IT OCCUR.
OR WAS IT SURREAL.
DAYDREAMING.
BEYOND OUR GOALS.
LEAVING US VACANT.
LIKE LOnG LOST SOULS.
A KNOCK AT THE DOOR.
REVEALS NO ONE THERE.
VISIONS THAT COME AND GO.
MAY BE TOO MUCH TO BEAR.
EMOTIONS IGNITED BY DESPAIR.
RELINQUISH OUR DESIRE.
TO RELEASE THE PAIN.
LEAVING US UNINSPIRED.
VISIONS OF GRANDEUR.
ONCE FOREVER IN OUR MINDS.
SHALL REMAIN HIDDEN FOREVER.
FOREVER CONFINED.
INFILTRATE OUR MINDS.
LEAVES US YEARNING.
FOR THAT SPECIAL TIME.
CONSOLIDATING OUR DESIRES.
WAS IT A DREAM OR WAS IT REAL.
DID IT OCCUR.
OR WAS IT SURREAL.
DAYDREAMING.
BEYOND OUR GOALS.
LEAVING US VACANT.
LIKE LOnG LOST SOULS.
A KNOCK AT THE DOOR.
REVEALS NO ONE THERE.
VISIONS THAT COME AND GO.
MAY BE TOO MUCH TO BEAR.
EMOTIONS IGNITED BY DESPAIR.
RELINQUISH OUR DESIRE.
TO RELEASE THE PAIN.
LEAVING US UNINSPIRED.
VISIONS OF GRANDEUR.
ONCE FOREVER IN OUR MINDS.
SHALL REMAIN HIDDEN FOREVER.
FOREVER CONFINED.
WALKING THRU
SCANTLY CLAD.
AND WALKING THRU.
IMAGINARY FLOWERS.
AMONGST THE DEW.
COURAGEOUS MOMENTS.
LEAD YOU ASTRAY.
CONDEMNING YOUR INH IBITIONS.
CAUSING A DELAY.
VISIONS OF TRANQUILITY.
ERASES THE TRACES.
COMPROMISING YOUR DESIRE.
FOR HER GENTLE EMBRACES.
THE PINNACLE OF HER DESIRE.
ESCAPES YOUR CARESSES.
YOUR LEFT WITHOUT THE LUST.
SHE ONLY POSSESSES.
TOTAL DENIAL.
AS HER SCENT DRIFTS AWAY.
RELINQUISHES YOUR BREATH.
SHE’LL RETURN ANOTHER DAY.
AND WALKING THRU.
IMAGINARY FLOWERS.
AMONGST THE DEW.
COURAGEOUS MOMENTS.
LEAD YOU ASTRAY.
CONDEMNING YOUR INH IBITIONS.
CAUSING A DELAY.
VISIONS OF TRANQUILITY.
ERASES THE TRACES.
COMPROMISING YOUR DESIRE.
FOR HER GENTLE EMBRACES.
THE PINNACLE OF HER DESIRE.
ESCAPES YOUR CARESSES.
YOUR LEFT WITHOUT THE LUST.
SHE ONLY POSSESSES.
TOTAL DENIAL.
AS HER SCENT DRIFTS AWAY.
RELINQUISHES YOUR BREATH.
SHE’LL RETURN ANOTHER DAY.
THE DARK CLOUDS APPEAR
ONCE AGAIN.
THE DARK CLOUDS APPEAR.
VOID OF ANY HOPE.
FILLING YOU WITH FEAR.
AS YOU WALK THRU LIFE.
THERE ALWAYS AT YOUR SIDE.
THOSE DEMONS THAT RULE YOU.
ALWAYS ALONG FOR THE RIDE,
THEY WALK, THEY TALK.
YET ALWAYS STAY HIDDEN FROM SIGHT.
CONTAMINATING YOUR INTENTIONS.
CREATING DARKNESS FROM LITE.
DISTORTING WHAT IS GOOD.
THERE THE PLAGUE OF THE LIVING.
CONSORTING WITH EVIL.
PREVENTING YOU FROM BEING FORGIVING.
CONDEMNING YOUR AMBITIONS.
DILLUTING YOUR SUGESTIONS.
DIMINISHING YOUR REVIVAL.
RELIEVING YOU OF ANY PLEASANT SENSATIONS.
TO BE RELEASED FROM THE DARKNESS.
AND TO BREAK THE SPELL.
ONCE ONE REGAINS CONTROL.
ALL EVIL INTENTIONS WILL BE DISPELLED.
THE DARK CLOUDS APPEAR.
VOID OF ANY HOPE.
FILLING YOU WITH FEAR.
AS YOU WALK THRU LIFE.
THERE ALWAYS AT YOUR SIDE.
THOSE DEMONS THAT RULE YOU.
ALWAYS ALONG FOR THE RIDE,
THEY WALK, THEY TALK.
YET ALWAYS STAY HIDDEN FROM SIGHT.
CONTAMINATING YOUR INTENTIONS.
CREATING DARKNESS FROM LITE.
DISTORTING WHAT IS GOOD.
THERE THE PLAGUE OF THE LIVING.
CONSORTING WITH EVIL.
PREVENTING YOU FROM BEING FORGIVING.
CONDEMNING YOUR AMBITIONS.
DILLUTING YOUR SUGESTIONS.
DIMINISHING YOUR REVIVAL.
RELIEVING YOU OF ANY PLEASANT SENSATIONS.
TO BE RELEASED FROM THE DARKNESS.
AND TO BREAK THE SPELL.
ONCE ONE REGAINS CONTROL.
ALL EVIL INTENTIONS WILL BE DISPELLED.
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ALEXIS OGUNMOKUN
ANANYA S GUHA
BOBBY Z
DS MAOLALAI
GEORGE GAD ECONOMOU
GERARD SARNAT
GRANT ARMSTRONG
HONGRI YUAN
IVAN JENSON
JACK HENRY
JACQUELYN TUCK
JAMES SWAFFORD
JANUARIO ESTEVES
JEAN FINEBERG
JOE OPPENHEIMER
KATHRYN STEWART MCDONALD
KEITH BURKHOLDER
K SHESHU BABU
LEWIS HUMPHRIES
LOIS GREENE STONE
MARC CARVER
MICHAEL LEE JOHNSON
NDABA SIBANDA
NGOZI OLIVIA OSUOHA
ROBIN WYATT DUNN
SERJEVAH DAVIS
STEPHEN HOUSE
STEVE & JOHN MARA