The Last Weekend with Our Storyteller

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…I was little, my brother and I loved to visit an old man on the mountain, kilometers away from our village. He lived on his own. In a hut, which admittedly, I was obsessed with: old man had built it with twigs between bamboos and embroidered it with eternal soul— so immortal it never gone for a Burton. A skill that was rather incongruous to how the Rwandan villagers built their huts; so impeccable that from a distance, it seemed to be plastered together in harmony with his personality. Old man had a gentle demeanour, and he must have borrowed…

By Tshepo S. Molebatsi

Facebook URL: https://web.facebook.com/molebatsisilas

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To Good to be True

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…your picture close to my heart

My thoughts pull me back to when I fell in love with you

 

Day weeks or months, I don’t know how long it took

Our eyes met, hands touched and I felt it perusing through

 

Love needs no security; love needs not to be feared

You taught me the art of loving for endless years

 

Looks like those of a fictional hero, graceful in his ways

Our eyes locked, heart stopped, you took my breath away

 

A coincidence or a miracle, what was it I wonder

What did I ever do to deserve someone…


Website: https://theserenespirituality.blogspot.com/

By Anonymous

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Introvert's Dream

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…depression lead to weariness
Society refuse to oblige to my plight
I am face with terror on earth that
I felt everything is working against me
Revolution came and pass but I am still
expecting mine.

I sometimes feel dejected by social
Obstacles that maim and constrain my endeavors
Tides and time are like enemies to me
And I felt lonely always despite the uproar surrounding me.

I am in the midst of sorrow and my
heart tumbles like the rough way leading
to my house. When I for see journey of thousands
Years, I smile and when life chain …

By Petah Blutife

Twitter: peterboluwatif4

Facebook URL: https://m.facebook.com/peterboluwatife.ojediran?ref=bookmarks

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Mind Castles

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…enamored, of a skill I just did find,
it seems I have a talent, building castles in my mind.
Of course, there is a drawbridge, portcullis and a moat,
and mail clad guards in armour, of whom legends could be wrote.

The mossy stones that form the walls, are weathered but quite stout,
protecting all who dwell within, while keeping evil out.
My castle does not dominate some lonely, craggy moor,
but rather sits within a glade, beside a lake's still shore.

The fragrance of the flowers, whose fields abut the woods,
wafts through open windows, while the merchants ply…

By James Geehring

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Dawn

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…battle never ending,

A war forever lasting,

The voices and screams ring through her head,

Words spoken to unseen faces she's still fighting her unseen past,

Hidden tears barely scratch the surface,

Her mask slowly falls as her shadow dawns,

She was fighting everything inside her to save the ones around her,

She holds on to her chains,

To hold on to those who broke her,

She holds on to the unseen faces,

She holds on to her unseen past,

But as she slowly let's go of her chains and

As her shadow dawns,

Nothing is safe,

Another person takes…

By Marina Vos

Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/marina.vos.564

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Planet X (Niburu)

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…Hands of eternal
Ages,
Squeezed the
Damp curtain of
Ancient
Night and
I dripped out.
Fetus-new.

Shedding the yawning
Blackness
And donning the
Light of Niburu, on its
Inevitable
Path.

A moment, dripping
Fire and ice.
The next, a molten
Furnace
Flung by
Fate, onto an
Inevitable
Path.

Careening thro Orion's
Belt.
Smashing through the
Twins, Gemini- with
Merciless
Crescendo!

Tumbling now.
Backstrokes at lightning
Speed through rivers of
The diamond-studded
Milky
Way.

O! Gilded
Blue Marble.
You were too soft and
Fertile for those you
Spawned from your
Belly.
Pitiful Mother!

Here I come...Your
Gravity compels
Me.
But…

By Selvan Muruvan

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Don’t look back in anger

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…used to call them ‘terrorists’ and ‘murderers’ who didn’t belong in this country. They should ‘fuck off back where they came from’ was a regular tirade whenever the subject of immigration came up on the television news.
Ahmed was born in Sale. Both his parents were born in Bolton. His grandparents came from India and Accrington. None of his family hated anyone as far as he knew. His grandad loathed fish and chips but they were careful not to share that dark family secret too far.
Emily came from a strict Jewish family. Although her parents were outwardly respectful of…

By Phill Slater

Website: http://phillslater.blog/

Twitter: pslater1972

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Home-Away From Pain

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…my neck, for this life I no longer beg.
Sign of my death like a check, for this life has me by the leg.

Drop me ocean deep,
And do not weep, do not weep,
It's my death,
I knew it would come like my birth on earth.

Caskets are for those who die in peace,
But not for those who's pain never cease.
Funerals are for those who lived in hope,
But not for those who die by the rope.

Although I had the brains,
I couldn't bust my own chains.
Don't you please say a prayer,
A good…

By Donerd Leviticus

Website: http://www.facebook.com/Donerd-Leviticus-Poetry-2164410803780805/

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Fall's Funeral

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…the rustic brown,

orange,

and green leaves

on every road

begin to lasso October

for his last threads of autumn.

Black clouds flush

the fully-lit-stone,

and fangs soar

the chilly midnight air,

cackling

and

screeching,

the last breath

the scarecrows will exhale.

The trademark-V possesses the moon,

and paves south

to hide from frozen return.

Pumpkins wrinkle tea-light for children,

while bon-fires crawl back inside chimneys,

as the sky unravels behind de-tasseled corn.

The depressed sun sleeps longer than usual

during her blanketed hibernation,

and the grass will awaken

frostbittenly reborn,

the moment mother nature

bares herself to the world…

By Jai K

Website: http://jaik82blog.wordpress.com

Twitter: jAiK82

Facebook URL: www.facebook.com/Jaik8282/

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Halloween's Child

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…blend into the evening, my face now adorned with a mask

I steal from my house to meet cohorts, with a plan for agreed upon tasks.

Crouching low we creep into the corn field, the ears in dried husks reaching high

We quietly pick and shuck kernels underneath scudding clouds in the sky.

Patiently hiding along side the road, young demons awaiting their prey

A car makes a sound in the distance, the headlights are heading our way.

Handfuls of corn are now heaved from the dark, the hubcaps go rat-a-tat-tat!

We scatter like mice in the kitchen, who’ve been…

By James Geehring

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