Upside Down Moments | A Poem by P.K. Deb

Ever-biting alcoholic molecules are poured in a glass
As a fool rides on his self-made upside down moments
Of hesitation and tension, he is not to be conscious
The memories are to be suspended for which he laments.

As the colourful glass is lifted near to his lips to sip
Heart becomes scared and raises its palpitation,
Nevertheless, alcohol is poured in to the deep
Of his mouth to suffer its biting with no hesitation.

The poor tongue and its mouth-mates shrivel in ache
Start weeping for help and instant relief,
Ignoring it behind alcohol reaches to stomach
With liquid fire and fills it with pain and grief.

The courageous and helpful blood cells attend in hurry
Start absorbing the poisonous molecules and pain
Stomach gets both relief and stain of alcoholic injury
But the blood cells rush as the biting they also gain.

Heart, liver, pancreas and kidney-the life organs
Become restless as alcohol bites them with stain
Hence, abnormal they become in their performance
And all together push the blood up to the brain.

For the locks of all organs, the brain is the master key
Gets extra- pressure as the blood waves rush to it
Becomes very scared and escapes to the knee
For normal duty where it is absolutely unfit.

Hence it produces illusions and sends to the fool
Makes him happy as the weeping was unheard
Composes a temporary heaven with his alcoholic tool
And becomes flexible physically and mentally smart.

Heart snatches excessive emotions from the brain
So the fool laughs, cries and roars with no grammar
The same lunatic process continues again and again,
Makes him unconscious as the brain gets a hammer.

No one is allowed to disturb him, even the dream
only flies are around his face, landing and flying,
May God bless him and bring him to the right-stream
as he is supposed to support his family from destroying.…

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You’re My Reason for Living | A Poem by Joseph Romano

Every placed I go your fair face beams.
You are a beautiful woman, you’re the woman of my dreams.
Your heart is loving and tender and forever forgiving.
You’re the reason I’m here, you’re my reason for living.
You opened your heat and gave me a new life.
Then you made me the happiest the day you became my wife.
And just when I thought you made me the happiest man in the world.
You presented us both with a new baby girl.

And just when I thought we had all the happiness and joy.
You presented us both with a new baby boy.…

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Me and My Two Friends | A Poem by P.K. Deb

Boiling of blood in the burning sun
cooks the earnings for the three friends —
me, my Heart and my Soul.
Nevertheless, quite active we have been
and blissful too in spite of sweat- bathing
and inhuman fast breathing
for making passive the curse of scarcity,
well integrated we have been
with all sorts of co-operation, care and love
for disintegrating the black shadows of misfortunes
and united we have been
in expecting a golden hunger to be gifted
to us for enjoying the poor dish as a royal one.

Hence, we have been blessed to sit comfortably
surrounding a discoloured wooden dining table
with an ocean of hunger to float away
all the poor dishes in a blink of the eyes
with all the eagerness and satisfaction.
Me and my two friends feed one another, feel good
and sketch a blissful smile on our bright faces,
thankful to divinity and dignity of work
who bestow the suitable dishes for solicited hunger.

Slowly and silently our dreamful slumber appears,
invades each and every rooms of our entities
and all the pains and strains gained disappear,
replacing peace and comfort on a hard bed.
Heart and soul lie keeping me in the mid,
embracing me with their magical hands
and hand over me to the beautiful slumber
for rejuvenation and vitality.
Slowly I reach a dreamful world to knit
a tomorrow with more of work, hunger and slumber.
Lucky I am and grateful too to God
as I am ever accompanied by my two friends —
Heart and Soul in every walk of life – painful or gainful,
May God bestow everybody with such heart and soul.…

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Bitter Sweet | A Poem by Anthony Cannon

Can you taste this?
They wanna know how I feel about it.
How I feel about holding back my pain and thankfulness for so many
remorseful years.
I account for the misery and woe in my bed sheets,
All of the nights of losing sleep and waking up feeling so
But then again…
The times I’m glad I’m still in God’s favor,
Still sitting on my throne over a pristine spotless temple.
Not ashamed of the tread of my feet I trod.
This potent wine I spill from my abode freezes solid-
Hard as rocks as they drop to deliver panic and unnecessary
This is bitter sweet.
I’ve been picked over, left for dead, dissed at and forgotten,
They say my time has ran out,
But how could I believe this nonsense I’m reciting to you?
Can you believe this?
I rise up and stay above it,
Thinking to myself I’m on my own island of continuation…
That this lonesome, dark, pitch black nightmare will never end.
Go all the way to gehenna and back and still ceases to not exist.
This is bitter sweet.
Like how I’m ecstatic but it breaks my bones and crushes the marrow.
As I put my heart in this,
I love the sweet,
But I despise the bitter.
Thank you for tasting my bitter sweet.…

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My Beautiful Mary | A Poem by Joseph Romano

When I look into the heavens, yours is the only face I see.
You are not only my lover and wife, you are my future fantasy.
Of all the woman I’ve ever known.
You my darling Mary are the one I chose to be my very own.
No other woman has done so many beautiful things to me
As wonderful as the things you’ve done to my fantasy.
I can live my life for a hundred or more years.
There is no other woman that can bring to me so many happy and joyful tears.
Mary my darling I love the way you took and molded me.
You took and made me into the man I thought I could never be.
We’ve been married now for sixty five years or more
And to this day you are the only one I love and adore.…

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The Old Folks (Who Live Where We Live) | A Poem by Wendy Lee Klenetsky

You can see her;
that little old woman who peers out secretly from behind the
yellowing curtains on the window.
This is as close to the outside world that she dares to come.
She sees no one and no one comes to visit.
you can see her…
Here he comes;
that small, bent-over little old man with the rickety cane.
He hobbles as quickly as he can down the street,
not looking up at the people who stare as they pass by.
Here he comes…
They live this way thanks to us and our society;
She, afraid to come down from her 2-room apartment,
and He, racing (as fast as he can) by all so as not to
have his few packages taken, or be knocked down for the few pennies he
has in his ripped pockets.
Look at them…
Look very closely…
We be BE them shortly…
The Old Folks!
Look very closely……

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Windows of My Past | A Poem by Joseph Romano

There’s a wonderful world I found at last.
When I look into the windows of my precious past.
These windows pass me one by one.
And I look in to each to see the wonderful past things I’ve done.
A feeling of comfort soon soothes my fears.
As I see all the happy things I’ve done throughout the years.
And this is when I find happiness at last.
When I look into the windows of my precious past.…

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My Lover | A Poem by Joanne J.

As I open the door, the soft light and rumpled sheets welcome me.
pillows tossed about.
I breathe deep and smile, the traces of fragrance and scented candles
mixed with the lingering scent of lovemaking, bring a soft smile to my
and a certain eerie feeling that you are still there.

That this room is yours.

indeed you are here, in my mind, in my heart, in my nostrils, I feel
you. I smell you.
Over the days, your scent fades…

I must have you again.
I prepare fresh scented sheets and await my lover.

This room that was once where I went to escape the weariness of life,
is now a sanctuary where I keep “US”. A Place where my basic nature is
free to be indulged,
a place to feel passion, be vulnerable, be ME.

As I sink into my bed, I feel you around me,

I know that this place is OURS. I bury my face in the pillows,
searching for more of your scent. This room is now a corner of my life
where I keep something very special.
I protect it from the entire rest of my world.
I smile again, “ours”is a place were love, contentment, rest, passion,
and peace live.

Where and you and I come, to be “US”…

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Murk | A Poem by Billy JnoHope

I saw my phantom
murked in a hindsight
Smelled the ghost red
rich and empty
Failed in Brooklyn
hell of a nightmare
Woke up guilty
gunning for my conscience
Skin it before it snitches
murked it for the world to breathe
Whittle my blessings
I deserve the lesser god
Rusted dagger sawed off baptismal
separate the sun
Liberate libra apologist
Saw that bleeding when it flirted red
I could have milked it yellow
but I lusted red…

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