Blog Archives

33@2250, by Steven Holding

29/3/2024

Living in the sticks
lips worth kissing
seem distinctly lacking.

It’s in cities,
bright-lit like demented Argento neon
that smiling mouths invite.

Tripping kids, dripping beauty.

One can only go so far,
for few care
for curfews.

The last bus home
leaves unfinished business.

Maybe tonight I’ll finally miss it.

Anecdote of a Rescue, by Mimi Grouse

29/3/2024

Their house was a red-brick battlefield;
Their souls bled out on polished floors
While frightened children prayed for peace.
Their house was a red-brick battlefield
Where only the shadows witnessed
The violence between its walls.

Their house was a red-brick battlefield;
Their souls bled out on polished floors.

Remember, by Malvina Perova

28/3/2024

We will not forget the winter day,
In total blackness listening to sirens,
Waiting for the morning, shy and grey,
In cold, in hope, in silence.

We will not forget the quiet sighs
Over books and lukewarm teas,
The deep sky of Mother’s eyes
Fading into greenish seas.

The loud blasts, the rush in our veins,
Thoughts of those who took the hit,
The farewells, the cries, the pains,
How can anyone forget it?

You don’t know this, but it’s true
For us all and every member:
‘Are you okay?’ means ‘I love you’
And ‘goodbye’ means ‘I’ll remember.’

The Truth and the Lie, by Paritosh Chandra Dugar

28/3/2024

Thus began a word-war between
The Truth and the Lie.
The Truth said to the Lie:
“People hold me in high regard.”
“No,” retorted the Lie,
“People hold me in high regard.”
Just then, a wise man intervened:
“Why do you quarrel?
First fact-check yourselves.
A truth manipulated, no matter how little,
Looks like a lie,
And a lie repeated a hundred times
Looks like a truth."

Why Me, by Peggy Gerber

27/3/2024

When bad things happen,
like car accidents or cancer,
people always ask, Why me?
Why did this bad thing happen to me?
What have I ever done to deserve such bad luck?
Yet, when good things happen,
people take it for granted, brainwashed into
believing good luck is a right, not a privilege.

Today, on the highway,
a speeding car careened into my lane,
missing me by a hair,
and when my terrified heart stopped pounding,
I looked to the heavens and asked,
Why did this amazing thing happen to me?
And it felt great.

The Apple Doesn't Fall, by Sandra James

25/3/2024

It wasn’t his good looks
that cemented her love for him
not his athletic build
smiling face
his interest in her hobbies
nor the fun places he took her…
it was the kindness he showed
to his widowed mother
ensuring his father’s example
continued…
and she knew he would do the same
for her

I Forgive You, by Marie Johnson-Ladson

24/3/2024

I remember how it used to be

I saw you as difficult

I saw you as demanding

I saw you as outrageous

But

Now I see

You were afraid

You were broken

You were hiding

You were trying to be strong

This was how you showed you cared

And

In order to have a piece of mind

I must forgive

I Forgive You!

From One to Another with Love, by Krystyna Fedosejevs

21/3/2024

It was designed to be ultrachic--
filled with down, surfaced with shimmer,
ticketed for sale in a high-end boutique.

It was the talk of the town in fancy places,
until another, more trendy, forced it to retreat
in one of the basement closet spaces.

Colder than usual weather unsettled winter.
Pleas for warm clothing for the homeless
filled the airwaves as frosty nights lingered.

She who bought into luxury gathered,
contributing much for the charitable cause--
among the items her down coat untethered.

Summer Thing, by C. J. H. Dickens

20/3/2024

Long ago, you came to my life in Spring
Jilted in love, needing someone to hold.
I gave you comfort, I gave you my word.
In the following months, I gave my body too –
In my bed I welcomed you, I let you
Use me, take me. And then, one day I heard
You were still seeing your Spingtime love of old –
You’d cheated. I was just your Summer Thing.

Love Manoeuvres, by Jennifer Duncan

20/3/2024

"Where is dear Arthur?" Mom anxiously cried.
"He's gone to the store," I blatantly lied.

"They stole my purse," Mom angrily whispered.
"We'll find the thief but first tea and custard."

"I want to go home," Mom tearfully moaned.
"The painters are getting it properly toned."

"No, I don't need a bath," Mom retorted aghast.
"I'll just wash your arm gently and fast."

"I love holding my baby," Mom smiled cradling her doll.
"She's lovely," I answered carefully draping a shawl.

"When will my daughter come?"
"I'm your daughter, here, Mom."

Mom looked into my eyes
But we'd said our goodbyes.

The Greater Handful, by Stephen Goodlad

20/3/2024

Stop. Just stop. No more running away.
The fact is; she’s gone. You watched her slip away.
The stark reality we all had to accept.
Treatment. The harshness of trying to save and prolong.
Make comfortable. Say Goodbye.
Rage.The bickering over bedside time.Recriminations we sought.
To justify our place in her life.
Our status: Her brother, her mother, her partner, her son.
Who was bestowed with the greater reason for grief?
The greater reason for not moving on. Not letting go.

Time to throw the ashes into the wind.
Who deserves the greater handful?

Then she is gone and, in that instant, we stare at one another.
Bewildered by how we find ourselves now defined.
Ashamed at our lack of compassion for the living.
Caught in stone as the wind changed direction.

Over You, by Dee Lorraine

20/3/2024

You say you do
And then you don’t
You say you will
And then you won’t
You told your lies
And made me cry
I’m over you
This is goodbye!

An Inquiry, by Sankar Chatterjee

20/3/2024

Birthing on the Asian soil, you blossomed over five millennia,
Your intellectuals, poets, and scientists enriched our blue planet.
Your journey wasn't easy, temples destroyed and land occupied
Migratory nomads, eternally despised and persecuted by others.
Then came the annihilation of six millions on the European soil.
Yet you taught the world courage, resilience and compassion.

But whatever happened to your legendary morality?
Your tanks blast and bombs rain on a strip packed with millions
Thousands of dead bodies commingle in the same blood-pool.
Mathematicians justify thirty thousand to twelve hundred,
Homes, schools, mosques, and hospitals no longer exist
Same for any food and water, a catastrophe is on the horizon.

The survivors of the humanity’s worst atrocities
Whatever happened to your own compassion?

The Angel of Death, by Ian Fletcher

18/3/2024

The lost bewildered eyes
would melt any human heart.
The little hand is clasped
by the mother’s loving grip.
Stand in line! Stand in line!
the harsh voice commands
cutting as sharply as a whip.
Doctor Mengele’s gaze falls
like a shark upon its prey.
One gesture and the child
is taken away, the child
with the lost bewildered eyes
that would melt any human heart.

Now, by Barbara Anna Gaiardoni

18/3/2024

Take a second to breath. Life goes by in the blink of an eye and it's important to take the time to acknowledge the love around you.
We all know that when life goes by without any troubles or worries, we don't ask many questions, but when the unpredictable happens everything changes.
You were for me that unpredictable, like a bolt from the blue that invades the soul.
Now, I'm certain of it. For this reason, I’m still looking for you.

a butterfly
lands upon my finger
are you here?

Simple Kindness, by John Cooper

18/3/2024

Reflect.

Upon an act of simple kindness,
unsought
but freely undertaken.

Consider

Our humanity grows greater,
against the tide of wasted opportunity.
We become better, life is improved…

Repeat.

A Time to Walk, by Michael H. Brownstein

18/3/2024

Hike with me through this field of prayer,
through mudflats and iron foot,
the eulogy deep and dried passion fruit,
the salt of columbine, a porcelain of words
the yellow mollies of spring,

The storm will pass. The forest will replenish.
Hike with me five years from now. Share
my bounty anytime. The eulogy premature,
prayer alive in flower and grass, blossom
and honey bee, a strength in who we really are.

Wilt, by Oladejo Abdullah Feranmi

17/3/2024

The partying has been on
and time hands are getting unfilled
with summer's prayer
and I watch everything
wishlist the nights that were mine.
I used to own a garden.
Now, the flowers are falling asleep
into fingers and their bones
are my hand, blooming
disillusionment to my face.

Proclamations, by Sue Clayton

17/3/2024

He died for his country
Proclaims a black marble grave
Festooned with vibrant gladioli
A kaleidoscope of memory
For a dearly beloved.

He died for his country
Proclaims a splintered wooden cross
Above a posy of pink Forget Me Nots
A compassionate token of memory
For an unknown soldier.

Two-Way Compassion, by Antje Bothin

17/3/2024

Your tooth hurts
I can feel it

Your heart breaks
I can feel it

When you’re in pain
I can feel it

My heart breaks
You can feel it

My tooth hurts
You can feel it

When I’m in pain
You can feel it

Music that Speaks with Accents, by Barney MacFarlane

16/3/2024

Where others’ plainsong rasps the air and jars
That harmony to which it might aspire,
Two-part invention, loudly screeching, mars
A flimsy manuscript that’s born of ire.
Yet you, whose chant beguiles my dirge within,
With added fortune truly worth the name,
Will fashion soothing pulses on my skin
And sing so sweet the birds shall die of shame.
For some, the birthing blood of music rests
In dark discord where bitter rankling stains
Biopsy of lineage. Yet, perverse, attests
Denial of which; its wriggling whelp disdains.
Such sucklings we then, who, with vision joint,
Sing on in love ... with heed to counterpoint.

Andrew Siderius Memorial Contest 2024

16/3/2024

The Return, by Guy Fletcher

15/3/2024

Can it really be fifteen years
since she ascended this hill?
Now Christmas lights adorn the estate
as she recalls the one-legged cat
and the old man who climbed
the steep slope with walking stick
every day. Both long gone.
Her heart pounds like a frantic drum
as she nears the family home
spotting her mother standing outside.
"Oh, she looks so frail," she says to herself,
tears in her eyes yet she knows
life is too short for bitterness and blame
which burns the soul away...as if a flame.

A Beautiful Night, by Jeremy Leariwala

15/3/2024

Today, Cate took a healthy walk back home.
It was just like yester-night’s walk.

But a few paces to her grilled door,
She stopped; just an involuntary pause!

She lifted her eyes, up-towards the twinkling stretch,
Up, where tiny crafts drew greyish lines at daytime.

It was such a warm, calm & cloudless night,
And, she saw the prettiest Milky Way ever!

Skin in the Game, by Robert P. Bishop

8/3/2024

What was once middle ground
has been swallowed
by a chasm that grows
wider and deeper and darker
every day as we the people
point fingers and accuse
one another of treachery,
treason, ignorance, and madness.

What color would our madness be
if it were painted on us
and worn like a second skin?
Could shame make us shed it
like a snake sheds its skin
when it needs room to grow?

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