Blog Archives

The Lawyer, by Paritosh Chandra Dugar

31/3/2023

Tradition

The merchant’s life was taken
With a sharp knife
Quietly.
But the crime was out one day.
The criminal was copped and jailed the other day.
The poor criminal who had come from the country
To the city
In search of food and shelter
Was happy.
The police were happy.
Everyone was happy
Except the lawyer
Standing with his legal pliers
With nothing to hold.

Demise Delay, by John Hancock

31/3/2023

Will to survive

Demise Delay

Clouds transformed the day, turned it into night
Sunny days remembered, of warm golden light

Wind chill unrelenting, cold eliminated warm
Clothes poorly suited, forecast not for storm

Trees observe my passing, ice on every branch
Swaying in the breeze, their mesmerising dance

Snowfall added danger, energy sapping cold
Past life reflection, thoughts of growing old

Track hidden by snow, footsteps each surprise
Slippery stone, fall and pain, slower now to rise

Gloom reveals a cabin, salvation just steps away
Survival strength emerges, demise selects delay

The Refugee, by Mary Wallace

31/3/2023

Will to survive

I am separated.
Separated from my future
By razor strands
And from my past by
Bombs, dust, death and mutilation

Distanced from myself.
The gentleness that once
Filled my mind,
is now refashioned
into hatred and fear

There is no going back
No moving foward
Just this bare patch of ground
Where my starving body cowers
And my fear and despair are fueled.

Generational Curses, by Dorian J. Sinnott

31/3/2023

Tradition

They stood before me,
those tattered ghosts;
broken and beaten,
withered and old.

They carried such burdens,
such heartache and pain;
searing through their souls,
staining mine just the same.

And how they begged me and pleaded,
those tattered ghosts;
that I break the cycle,
this tradition of generational grief.

For they may not have been able,
to bring upon change;
but those curses will end,
if not with them than with me.

Battles, by Alyce Clark

31/3/2023

Will to survive

Blood, tears, sacrifice and death
Democracy has a high price
Freedom isn’t cheap.

War, loneliness, broken bones, missing limbs
Placing wreaths on loved ones’ graves.

Such futility in attacking the right or the left…
While the nation bleeds out
Forgetting that “united” is part of its name.

But there is hope. (There is always hope).
Democracy has a will to live.

Young people fighting injustices…
Seniors fighting to protect each vote.
Others using their voices to protect the written word.

We have fought and won these battles before.
Tired, but determined, we will do it again.

Scars, by Alex Blaine

28/3/2023

Heroism

The hero says
Scars are simply
Marks of the past
Reminders that you
Have fallen
And survived

Change, by A C Clarke

28/3/2023

Will to survive

So I was turned into a pigeon
right there under the sycamore tree.
My pink pigeon-toes slowed me
to the shuffle of bandaged feet.

My grey pigeon-wings felt heavy.
Out of my small prim beak
a low churring quavered. My pigeon heart
yammered against thin ribs. I grew alert

to hawk-shadow, learned
not to move a muscle. Could scent
a fox at forty paces.
Life became one long fear.

I went back to that sycamore tree
counted the winged seeds falling:
they lay in clusters on the dusty ground
like hopes in waiting.

Looking at you, Destiny, by Padmini Krishnan

27/3/2023

Will to survive

You may bury me under the earth,
but I will rise above the squirming sand;
you may toss me into the deep ocean,
but I will soar like a savvy seagull;

When you fill my heart with venom
I will wash it away with nectar;
when you heap abuse
I will convert them into soulful music;
when you crush my will
I will hold on to the last embers of life.

Do not think it is just me,
but all of us
are in this together,
fighting the demon that resides
within and outside us.

My Tree, by Sandra James

27/3/2023

WINNER, SIDERIUS SHORT POETRY AWARD, 2023

Will to survive

In my mind I still see
the fragile sapling
defiantly rising from the rocky crevice
as I sat on the edge of the cliff
contemplating…

Its will to survive
determination against all odds
…inspirational

Twenty years later
on a stormy grey day
I reach the cliff
as sun breaks through clouds
turning raindrops into diamonds
and my tree towers towards the heavens

It survived, thrived
and so did I.

Wherewithal, by Shannon Murphy

26/3/2023

Will to survive

snow upon the leafing green
frost upon the full blown rose

how then the long and short
not yet full breached

this cusp, the no man's land
this being of what is –
and also, is – what was

all at once transitory
these moments … days …. weeks … months … years

betwixt
summer torch and autumn frost
winter dirge and spring re- births

in the lapse, the pause, the overlap

it be neither there nor here …

… the wherewithal …
to persevere …

Sparks, by Allison Xu

26/3/2023

Will to survive

Through the light speckled with dust motes,
I can still make out your face.
Your chin sags with tokens of loss,
your hands bear scars from the teeth
of clock wheels, your voice splinters
with syllables drained of vibrancy.

Yet your eyes glow
the same sparks that even
the darkest sky can’t overtake.
And that’s all that matters.

At Last, by Georgina Lyttelton

26/3/2023

Heroism

Something went dark,
Someone lost track,
Something felt bad,
Someone came back.
Something went still,
Someone ran riot,
Something just popped,
Someone was quiet.
Something stood shadowed,
Someone laughed loud,
Something moved slowly,
Someone unbowed.
Something grew lighter,
Someone unmasked,
Something turned warm,
Someone at last.

30p Lee, by Gordon Lawrie

25/3/2023

Will to survive

30p Lee talks a lot about me
Who, seeking asylum, desperate to flee,
Made the perilous journey to be safe like Lee.
But “Tell it like it is/Stop the Boats” 30p Lee
Wants to flog me, hang me
Then put me back in the boats to drown in the sea.
I don’t need foodbanks, says 30p Lee,
I should feed my family on just 30p
Feed them pasta with dried wasp, bee or flea
And boil up pee instead of coffee or tea.
But most disgusting of all about 30p Lee
Is he really exists, as a Tory MP
Scum of the Earth vote for 30p Lee
Who then makes laws about people like me.
Well, the scum of the Earth and 30p Lee
Can shove it.

Obviously ineligible for the contest. Just needed to get it out of my system. Sorry.

I Think I’ll Buy a Cape, by Peggy Gerber

25/3/2023

Heroism

We are all heroes.
Every one of us.
Struggling to get through each day
as life flings cow dung at our heads,
because let’s face it, life is an asshole.
The only thing certain in life is uncertainty
and that bad things will happen,
and though they say bad things come in threes,
sometimes they come in
fours and fives and sixes.
Yet, still we go to bed each night,
sometimes with hearts as heavy as boulders,
and get out of bed each morning
knowing how hard it will be.
We are all heroes.
I think I’ll buy a cape.

Cold Comfort Farm, by Adrian McRobb

25/3/2023

Will to survive

Wet; it's raining again neon signs reflect puddles
McDonald's, Kentucky Fried, Burger King
three shots for a fiver in bar windows
a street view of dancing shoes heel and toe into distance
"befriend cold and hunger you'll never be lonely"
pallets, cardboard, camp mats insulate against the chill
rats under bins sip-scurry spilt beer
cold seeping from the Tyne, the fog? You can keep it!
An ex-fusilier asks for spare change
Tina and Kelly share a bottle of stolen wine
Rizla nights opposite the Central Station...

If Keats Had Seen the Brooks' Chicken Sign Instead of That Old Grecian Urn, by Pete Lindemann

24/3/2023

Will to survive

Thou still uneaten bird of flightlessness,
Faster chicken of noble neon,
What mad pursuit? What supper to escape?
What clucks and footfalls? What wild eatery?
Silly chef, never, never canst thou chop,
Though chasing near the goal – yet do not grieve,
Though she cannot fry, nor canst thou have her breaded,
Forever wilt thou chase, and she be unbeheaded.

Survival, by Cheah Yin Mee

24/3/2023

Will to survive

It’s a long way up twenty floors to this hortus conclusus
where you left your future tucked between small fragrant basil leaves.
It took more than a week maybe, for signs of life to emerge
and another few more days for the first lot of tiny black dots to
appear on the ground, next to the basil leaves.
Careful examination soon finds them, brown furry commas
moving placidly, chewing calmly while sprinkling more
black specks, now in various sizes, some bigger than before.

Your trek to a new life, to create another chapter, another perpetuity,
an arduous attempt at survival must regretfully end here.
The basil too needs to thrive and fate favours the green.
But this botched attempt at continuity could mean our
failure, our miscalculation, more than yours.

Would our progress on life’s journey be somewhat
thwarted, without ugly fuzzy brown commas?

Then and Now, by Dee Lorraine

24/3/2023

Tradition

I remember the Dive Inn Motel, our first stay.
“Best motel on the beach,” we’d say.
And rightly so.
Romantic nights in that small first-floor room
Avocado-green shag carpet, lighting from the moon.
Wine coolers poured in cheap champagne glasses
Windows open to hear the waves, to smell the ocean spray
Life was good back then, in our little hideaway.
An anniversary tradition until, alas, one day…
Now, it’s The Grandeur Hotel where lovers stay.
“Best hotel on the beach,” they say.
Thirty-six magnificent stories, all windows face the ocean
But builders sealed them from the spray and wave motion
Fearful someone might jump from a room that high
And the days of wine coolers have long since gone by.
Yes, the Dive Inn Motel is just a memory, and so are you.

The Guiding Light, by Sankar Chatterjee

23/3/2023

Will to survive

The radiating sun dazzled the sky, snow white clouds danced in gentle breeze,
Emerald nature whispered to amethyst ocean, and our universe opened eyes.
Along came you the human, the creator’s trusted savior of life on earth
Your strength and wisdom navigated you through stone, bronze, and iron ages
Evolving from a hunter-gatherer to an industrialist, traversing through civilizations
You offered literature, arts and music from Mesopotamia to Indus Valley.

Your developing knowledge also brought upon unique instruments of mass destruction,
Facilitating wars, mushroom clouds over Hiroshima, and orange plumes over Saigon
Holocaust and ethnic cleansings witnessed your self-inflicted modern annihilation.
Now, history repeats itself at the borders of Kashmir, Kyiv, and Lebanon.
What have you learned from history’s past lesson, everything seems unknown
But let your eternal “Will to Survive” still be a guiding light for your generation.

The Phlox, by Jennifer Duncan

23/3/2023

Will to survive

Through the debris of last year's death,
The phlox shouldered its way up
Tight, then slowly opened outward.

Last summer, it had flourished,
Vibrant pink, fragrant sweet,
Butterfly haven, bee lover.

Then the devastating frost
Drove it underground.

She, like the phlox,
Had lost her warmth, her light.
The cold of her husband's death
Had chilled her to the core.

But she, too, would struggle to unfurl,
To reach for the sun, the light,
To survive, to grow
In the memory of his love.

Songs of the Birds, by J. Iner Souster

21/3/2023

Will to survive

Returned by the winds that carry
Replaced by the winds that drift
The melodies of our mothers and hymns to our fathers
I'm a flower—what flowers are to the sky
Into a blue, blue heaven, when broken is the twilight
Woven throughout the soul is a thread of desire
A rumbling sound drives us to the horizon
A clean slate concealed in the night
A day of death for life,
revealed in the light.

Alone in the Home, by Barbara Anna Gaiardoni

21/3/2023

Will to survive

Alone in the home

To live fully the union of the opposites without killing each other.

another beer -
the wild curlew's
shrill scream

Before the Mast, by Mimi Grouse

21/3/2023

Will to survive

The boy stands on the rusty deck
And hides a youthful tear
As the captain puffs upon his pipe
And reaches for a beer.
The sailors and the enginemen
Gladly leave their places
With brine and sweat and grime and oil
Concealing weary faces.
And the ropes groan round the bollards
Like an ageing mermaid's song:
'If you survive another voyage,
You'll be a man, my son.'

Pilot's Song, by Malvina Perova

20/3/2023

Heroism

Mama, don’t cry,
I lived the best possible thirty-four:
I learnt how to fly,
And died on the land I was fighting for.
Mama, don’t cry,
Don’t say that I lost and exist no more.
You gave me this life
Not to cry for what must go,
Nor drown myself in pity.
Mama, I’m fine,
I saved my soul and sleeping city,
The holy things, the beauty,
A million homes, a million hopes,
And every tear in the stream.
It was my duty.
Mama. It was my dream.

Tradition and Progess, by Seshadri Sreenivasan

20/3/2023

Tradition

Traditions shape the moral fabric of society,
A guide to what is right and what is wrong,
A set of rules that we must all abide by,
A reminder of where we belong.

Yet, traditions can also be a shackle,
A barrier to freedom and happiness,
A way of keeping us locked in the past,
Preventing us from embracing newness.

Breaking with tradition can be difficult,
Especially when it's been in place for so long,
But it's essential to find our own way,
To choose what is right, and to stand strong.

So let us cherish our traditions,
But let us not be held captive by them,
For it is only by breaking free from the past,
That we can create a better world for all women and men.

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