The function of a human hand?
Writing a message, making a bed,
Opening a jar, dialing a phone,
Putting on pantyhose,
Touching the face of a child,
Or a lover.
And in its absence?
Yawning space and phantom pain,
And an oddly-shaped bandage
At the end of Angie’s arm.
PFC Hernandez, home in El Paso,
Watches her family watching her,
Writing awkwardly with her left hand,
Brushing her black wavy hair,
Watching Dr. Phil
Wearing an old gray-green T-shirt
Bearing the faded words
“Proud to be a Marine.”
Gasping and choking,
She wakes from thick, dusty dreams
Of shimmering, endless sand,
Echoing hollow with hatred,
And the feared but half expected
Roar of fiery amber heat,
Breaking the angry stillness,
Searing through the night
And Angela’s right hand.
Copyright © Ginna Wilkerson
A Service Member's Prayer
Oh, God, I feel that I have cause
To know my life might give You pause,
But fair as You are sure to be,
I seek Your way on bended knee.
I wish neither to kill nor die,
Though from engagement I'll not shy.
For if my duty calls me there,
I'll do whatever I must dare.
I seek not courage for the fight.
I seek not comfort from the night.
I ask not pardon for my deeds,
Nor any salve for any needs.
I only ask to know what's right,
To do my best to check my might,
To render mercy where I should,
To know I serve the greater good.
Oh, God, if You will hear my plea,
I ask so very much of thee.
I fear not men, I fear not death,
Yet bow my head and still my breath
To ask You, please, to do Your best,
To keep me from eternal rest,
Until the hour my duty sends
Me home to family and friends.
And if You grant my humble prayer,
Oh, God, I ask You, keep from care
Those people whom I hold most dear.
I wish them not to shed a tear
In anguish over days now done,
Where my dawn was their setting sun.
For then, if You will grant my plea,
I'll soon be nearer them and Thee.
Copyright Shawn H. Hall 2014
Copyright © Shawn Hall
O harlot of colored scarlet hath divided the spoils
The wealthy, well oiled, prophesy uncertainty
Thee measures of barley spoil not the oil or wine
heavenly leaven is unmeasured, care to take a wager
A bird in hand of human man, faith is in the bush
O little bird, swish the bush, faith is not a human wish
I will laugh at your calamities O harlot
I will turn a deaf ear to thy wails of anguish
As a queen thou has ruled unjustly
Ground the face of the poor of earnest contrite
Thy kings shall cast ashes upon their heads
And call for the mountains, “Come fall on us!”
I will loose the yoke of bondage, Love, sayeth Almighty
For it is just in my sight, I have waited for precious fruit
You have remained aloof of un-cloven hoof, relieved not poverty
Of the absolute you have not partaken, or cheweth the cud
Nor forsaken thine own way, Love commands pay...
...of the illusionary substance death of your own logical way
Copyright © john freeman
Who will weep for my noble prince? Who will cry
With belly swollen with sorrow, and tears long
As the Black River? Who will hear the clouds sigh
And turn black over red clay, and being strong
Not feel this agony no rain wash away?
Tell me, you angels, before the bamboos die
Before the swallows sing no more in the sky
Did you comfort him before he passed away?
Did you assure him the people shall remain
The sovereign of his God's vast and frugal domain?
O my little prince, my loyal, handsome prince
My native flesh and blood! Tell the Maroons come
Down the mountain drumming death now, let them rinse
Our agony with their songs, let fingers long dumb
Speak again on the skin of the goat. Call them
Like birds to flock against the gray evening mist
And tell his deeds writing days on love's long list:
He was their voice, their concrete Jerusalem
And O how he loved them, and O how he cared
And for nothing gave all, so no one despaired.
This is the man I weep, this is the friend I lost
This is the soul of pure compassion so still
Amidst the tributes and tears. Pain is love's cost
When the barren room no other soul shall fill
O that you knew this man, that you talked with him
Under tree or in the broiling sun, did he
Not touch you as one destined for a jubilee
Lifted on the people's love? Let stars be dim
Till I have no more tears to shed, he is dead
Donald B. Buchanan is dead! Day has fled!
Why death must you such a tyrant be? What plans
Have you not overthrown, mark the limit set
By you, pouring our life like the hour glass sands
Giving us for our flightless dreams dire regret.
How blindly you rail against the cross and Christ
And sow this kingdom with rot, and make us vain
Shall you be still proud when He comes again
Shall Danny and I not rise by His sacrifice
To drive again the long road and hear the sea
Roaring in our dreams, and know the mass is free?
Then shall the bamboos like God's orchestra sing
And the Santa Cruz Mountains burst in bright light
Where we shall play eternal children, and bring
Tributes of praise to the eternal king. Night
Has no beauty that shall outshine our glad days
Nor love no promise excellent as our joy
When these valleys rise and nothing can destroy
My faith made real, and friendship near forever stays
For death is done. Until then I miss you still
Bulwark and bastion of the people's will
Copyright © David Smalling
today, I die.
Don't Cry, this is the way it is. Don't cry, it's ok.
I'm ready. it's so different, when you know you have to go. everything seems so...so pointless. All I ever stressed about, thought about, and cried about, gone. All I can think about is what lies ahead. In a moment I'll begin my journey into an eternal world. Where my past decisions guide me to my destination. What will heaven be like? Will I get to Heaven? A couple of minutes all I could think about was my mother. How dare she do what she did! A couple of minutes ago, all I could think about was how long before I moved away. How quick that has all changed. My anger brought my actions. and now I lay, I lay here...hopeless. Don't cry. I know I made my mark. And I'll always remain, in your hearts......I sat there in church, in front of a coffin, a man. Stitched lips and powdered face. I saw what death brought, and felt nothing. I sat, watching, staring, as some mourned. Not me. I sat there watching, gazing. Around me, someone was sad, not because of death, but because she lost her cell phone. In front of me lay death, and around me, no one cared. Will I matter. will people lose their cell phones at my funeral. Mother: I'm sorry. I know for 16 years you've done your best. Mother I'm sorry, I want you to know. I did notice all the things you did for me. You'd give yourself to not lose me. A working woman, a mother of three. I noticed. I love you mom, don't cry. dad. you weren't there much, most of my life. its ok. I know that if you could, you would. dad, don't cry. I hold no grudges. for all of you that I talked to, for mom, for dad, for my sisters, and for YOU, don't cry. i have to go now. God.. I'm ready. I'm sorry, I know I messed up...but I was good. Today...I die. it's ok. I'm ready. My whole body...It's warm, a sensation, a tingle, a swarm. now.. I die its ok don't cry, I’m ready.
Copyright © Raul Gonzalez
When my eyes close for the last time
I hope to have touched so many in my
Life time on my journey of life
Those I meet and left behind
With my smile and loving heart
That never discriminated
And hated in justice felt from the heart
When love it was from deep with in
Protected with faith those loved
And held closes to my heart
Never hated but forgave those who
Try to keep me down and kill my faith
To those who shed a tear for me
I hope to wipe dry with my love not gone
For my loving heart lives on with in each
And every one who knew me as big as my height
I will be with you in heart and spirit
For you will keep alive every time you think of me
Remember the good memories
Relive them when you feel sad that I am gone
For I will be in a better place at rest
Waiting to reunite with each and every one
Much love always
Copyright © miriam garcia
You had the spirit of a stallion.
You could not be tamed until you were ready
and no matter how life may have tried you could not be broken.
You brought a piece of something that many did not possess to every life,
and when you opened your mouth unearthly words of wisdom were spoken.
You were strong and beautiful and had the deepest blue eyes I've ever seen.
The love that you held in your heart was like something out of dream,
It was love and confidence and support and stability you made me feel.
God blessed me by letting me be a part of you.
I am so happy that our lives crossed paths and you helped see me through.
Now you are in His memory, waiting to be raised.
When you live again, your mind will be clear.
The fog will be lifted.
There will be no haze.
You will run about and never die.
You will feel no pain or fear, never cry.
Your days will be filled with love, strong and true.
Your last words to me were I love you.
Here I wait, just trying to get through.
I will see you again, Grandma.
Into my arms, I will welcome you.
Copyright © Misty Hoot
A Farewell To The Travelers (On The Bhoja Airlines Plane Crash)
With pace does darkness conquer light,
when mounts the sun the dying toll,
spied an aura grim my wistful sight,
for had poisoned all, a single bowl;
captive of death as it life betrayed,
the awakened --to the resting prayed,
"Oh! Farewell the mornings vanished pole".
Life comes with such a temporal mien,
has it plucked the wings of future how,
though pillows of respite --I had seen,
but these feathers do no sleep allow;
do fly swift! The binders of this cause,
your pause of age, is our ageless pause--
"So, farewell the birds of heavens now".
But, soul a machine that does not cease,
yet it fools us from our time of birth;
pass on, move towards the restful peace,
but, secluded stays its pensive worth;
Until the day, we shall meet again
at some wondrous unknown valley then.
"Ah! Farewell the travelers of this earth".
R.N.Khan, © 2012
Copyright © Raja Nosherwan
All in one faded-black day
(but let None forget)
In my arms, her body lay
(my life was the price to pay)
A tragedy, through the lack of humanly shame
(do they know pain)
My darkly colleen has to suffer no more
(Robert nor do you)
Let me die
(please hear my haunted cries)
If I can not see Sophie tonight
(live on with my grey)
I'm just a mess of despairing words
And broken nerves
Another mourning, afflicted sight
(through decay, love can remain)
Solace, sympathy are just more lies
She is all I need
Until you decide she is just another sadist's toy
My Angel, why did you have to fly so far away
My Angel, just let one feather stay
My Angel has flown away
My Angel, why did you have to fly so far away
My Angel, just let one feather stay
My Angel has flown away
(My body is amortal, die I may,
Together, our hearts will forever stay)
Copyright © Wyatt Loethen
My heart egos and my life drained from me
Simple life I live, I act as I know all
But I know not, no, not even a little
I earnestly seek for recognitions
But my life and my heart is a hole.
An empty vessel, soulless, loveless
I have been succumb by the pain of heart aches
I have become a broken man,
Know not what my future holds
I envy those who went before me, who were acknowledge
I hold on to the little shred of hope in me,
I am being drowned by my own sorrows.
Love, hate, a new beginning and ending of my old self never seems to happen
My wrath against my enemies is nothing for they humor me with insults.
Let not death come to me in misery and despair,
For life is full of joy and full of sorrows.
Love me, as who would love a stranger from nowhere.
Let my sorrows be taken away by the love of many
But at last, no one would.
Don’t cry for me, for no one knows me
They came before my grave and said “who is this man?”
“Why is the name not written?”
It is not written because I am nothing
Don’t shed a tear for the stranger such as me.
Life is like a dream on a calm sea,
As the captain gracefully steer and gently moves its rudder.
The passenger puts their lives in his hands,
A calm sea is the heaven of any sailor.
“So, where is my captain?”
The wind blows every so gently,
But my heart sinks gently into the sea;
Who will mourn for the stranger?
Drowned from my grief,
My faith begins to waver like a ship tossed around by the winnowing wind
My heaven, my calm sea turns against me as I sail the Galilean sea
“Where are thy words that calm the raging storm?”
Ay! I have no peace even in my passing.
I have not thy words of command,
For my faith has been tossed away by the hating winds,
Shallow, empty, and broken I lay here in an unnamed grave.
Only thy mercy will guide me to the third heaven!
Let my sorrows be washed away by the blood of the innocent lamp.
Let thy words be the honey drops for mine,
As this world knows only lies
Blinded by greed and lust,
They seek only to destroy of what they fear.
And my sorrows are tossed away by thy promises.
For thy compassion for lost sheep is great.
"Have I found peace?"
I have, for I know my heart is at rest when my body has aged
And my salvation has come
When I died with thy Words of truth
Copyright © LIde Sangtam
I’ll stay for as long
as you’ll have me
At least as long
as you have need
Until the time comes
that you no longer need me
Then bid me farewell
E’en when I’ve gone
I’ll still be close by
In the flowers, in the wind…
In the Autumn leaves.
So if you should ever
Have need of me…Again
Open your window
And let in the breeze
Copyright © David Whalen O Haolin in ancient Celtic
You flourished and blurred
like a spark on wind
Gracefully and quickly like a frightened hind
in pursuit of light
You harvested through bushy meadows
taken by blight
In struggle with plight
had you lost your might
And gave out
although never you gave up.
Where are you?
For you must be still there.
For I still can feel you
somewhere in the air.
Copyright © Lukasz Walterowicz
The periwinkle petals closed
As daylight turned to dark--
And nighttime fell like dampened silk,
To hush the meadowlark.
While the Talmud--and the holy words;
The violins, and song--
Fell silent in the midst of dark
Seeming out-of-place, or wrong.
And faith became a memory,
Like love's first gentle kiss--
The most dear of all possessions
Was the one most sorely missed.
For God had been the guiding light,
So the rituals, and wine--
But the Cantor was bereft of song...
T was the night of '39.
Copyright © Mel Merrill
In the summer of 2007, God received an angel.
The Angels name was Katie.
Katie was sweet & Katie was good
But I guess God wanted sweet old Katie
Out of the hood.
She did all she could, she gave all she had
But never in her life treated anyone bad.
Jesus, I know that she’s good
I know that she is great
But sometimes I just hate,
Hate that she is gone
Hate that she is away
I think about her everyday.
Everyone & Everything is changing
Family is falling apart,
Oh why it’s breaking my heart.
Tearing the house down acting like pure clowns
God you got a gift
But sometimes I wish,
Wish you hadn’t took my Angel
Wish you would have let her stay a little longer.
God received an Angel.
The Angels name was Katie
I hope Katie is with me daily
Until I die & visit her in the sky
House is up wholesale, everyone thinking
“WHAT THE HELL”
Angels, Angels, Angels
Angels flying here, Angels flying there
Angels are flying around just about any & everywhere
You took a couple of my families angels in strange ways
I get up in the morning wondering when is my day
& who will be next to depart us.
My heart was broken when you took my Angel
Oh, why did you have to take her,
Her out of all people
She followed the rules and the laws
But I am wondering is that all.
Copyright © Sharika Sellman
I wake up in the morning
and the pain begins,
Starvation, beatings, disease
when will it ever end...
There is blood on my elbows
and blood on my knees,
my clothes are torn
I just want to be free...
I am what I am
I guess thats why I'm here,
I've been here three months
And I'm numb with fear...
I pray to God
and ask him why,
what did I do
to deserve to die...
Copyright © Cody Cross
God ! God ! Why have you forsaken me ! Translation of Pierre Emmanuel’s Eli Eli Lama Sabachthani by T. Wignesan
Opening the eyes requires such an immense effort
As if the entire sky were their eyelids
And the forehead how to hold it up raise the earth
To stare wide-eyed the space between the sticky eyebrows
In order to be able to see
All of a sudden the neatness of the slashes
Of black and white during the afternoon’s storm
A world of sharp detached angles
The exact banality of the tiniest things
All for nothing
So therefore it’s really for nothing he was going to die
On this stump of a cross his ankles frozen
By your atrocious coming and going to the beat of the
Inundating the cramped sinister woods
O ! the Crowd !
If the gallows were the Tree in the Garden
Indeed it has changed since Adam enjoyed its shade
So vast and dark in waves of palms towering high
The taste of these nocturnal waters rendered them insipid
Adam concentrated on the fruit and in the fruit the night
His eye was the ultimate star the most solitary
Someone wanted to destroy himself screaming into it
The hand already held the fruit. Of a sudden the anguish
Now the Tree is extirpated from all space
Its sap is concentrated in one monstruous fruit
This body where God is shrivelled up this Face
Of the Person in the désert of an over-populated world
This is the Man
God ! God ! Why have you forsaken me !
The Christ as pulp bruised empties itself in the depths of
The entire spirit is drawn upwards by the cry
But the taciturn echo awaits that it enters into him
This Yes that Adam has refused him in the Garden
Adam Christ uttered it out loud to sum up his tortures
Necessary that the act of abandonment be out of
And the cross the supreme echo of divine Names.
(La nouvelle naissance, O. C. t. I, p. 1088)
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
Copyright © T Wignesan
At the end, there were too many days
And dust, not from his own plodding.
The warmer memories of his best days
In ways fell past; now there was nodding.
I’d heard of those with greater faith,
But had really nothing to compare;
Ill health had reduced him to a wraith,
Though he didn’t much seem to care.
Spring stood empty, but the sky held clouds,
So the cold rain came as no surprise.
He left us bereft, memory enshrouds;
I can still see the faith in his eyes.
Copyright © Michael Seeger
A Letter from God to Those Who Miss Linda Marie
She is a bouquet
She is a lilac tree
Her essence always has been and still is of Me
She is my most talented daughter and she is now here with me in my heavenlies
She paints the splendor of paradise
Conversing and taking long horseback rides
She even sings with my angelic hosts and beings
A special spark I placed in her at birth
It was like a most spectacular fire work
People from afar could always view her splendor
I know very well of her elegance because I am her Creator
Whenever you think of Linda Marie
Just remember that she is here with me basking in a warm heavenly glow
She would never want her friends to miss
The complete joy of being kissed by the elegance of my radiant rainbow
She is the extension of my creativity
Always filled with my “positivity”
I will cherish her forever as she waits for her friends and family to arrive
There are two things to remember as you await your time
To join Linda Marie and my eternal sunshine
Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind
And to your neighbors always be kind
These are the two greatest commandments that take the place of my old law
So just remember as you think of my daughter
Cherish the laughter and her silly fodder
She is sitting up here with her heavenly Father
Sipping on a spot of sparkly tea
Copyright © Gwendolen Rix
When you walk outside into the open air
When you look around at all the beauty everywhere
Think of butterflies fluttering all around
Filling the atmosphere from the sky to the ground
When you feel the wind across your face
Remember my love is all over the place
When you see one lone butterfly fluttering by with such beauty and grace
Think of me and the last time you saw a smile on my face
Remember the joy we shared in our lifetime together
The bond we shared was the most precious treasure
You are blessed with memories of our years on earth
Just as God blessed me on the day of your birth
I have moved on to a glorious place
But daily I am still blessed with your loving face
When you see a butterfly, think of me
That is my spirit flying high and free
I watch over you my dear loved ones, each day and night
I am so proud of your choices to live your life right
My love for all of you will continue to flow
I miss throwing my arms around you more than you know
I am flying with Angels in the Heaven’s above
We watch over you always and send down our love
Look for the butterflies with colors so bright
For they host the spirits of loved ones now out of sight
You must keep your chin up and take care of yourself
But remember God sends His Angels to sometimes help
When you least expect it, at a time of great need
That’s when an Angel appears to do a good deed
Keep your eyes open and be prepared
Great blessings will be upon you when you’re least aware
Watch for the butterflies as they flutter around
They will soon appear in your life when they are less likely to be found
My heart is with you as I watch from afar
Angels walk with you wherever you are
Trust in my word and know that many blessings are upon you
For God has sent Angels who will help you through
Hold memories close and cherish those in your life with love
Trust in my word and in the Lord above
Copyright © 2003 Shari E Davis
Copyright © Shari Davis
Beauty is in flowers, and the petals
Bathing in the early morning dew
Beauty is in the eyes of a father
When his son takes the first step
Beauty is on the face of a baby,
Sleeping in mother’s lap
Beauty is in freedom,
When you fly high on the wings of hope
Beauty is in the expressions of a poor man
When he gets food after eternity
Beauty is in the pride of a teacher
When his student supersedes
Beauty is in the compassion of a devotee
When he finds solace
Beauty is in the innocence of a child
When he asks you questions
Beauty is in the sips of laughter,
You share with your friends
Beauty is in the springs of desire
that arrive after a prolonged autumn
Beauty is in the cry of a woman,
Whose womb succeeds
Beauty is in the silence,
When you don’t speak, and you say a lot
Beauty is in the warmth of passion
That builds around the arms of a lover
Beauty is when those small fights,
End with tears of joy
Beauty is when the first raindrop,
Kisses your cheek
Beauty is in perseverance,
When the world’s showing off
Beauty is in the enigma,
When everything’s certain
Beauty is in a poem,
Where poetry meets prose
Beauty is in little chunks of life,
Filled with joys and sorrows
Beauty is in your eyes,
your heart, and in every single breath
Beauty is when you say,
“What a Beauty-Full Life...”
Copyright © Piyush Kaushal
Mist of Time
Do not spill my blood
Do not bury my last scream
In a grave.
I will walk softly
Across the screen leave no trace
Just a whisper… and
In years to come you will hear
An echo, recalling my name.
Copyright © jan oskar hansen
Introduction: At some point of our lives, someone close to us departs off to the next
phase. We think of the good times and try not to think the bad; but sometimes it haunts us
back to how we responded in a naive way for our juvenile wishes. And sometimes we see them
in our dreams at the utmost optimism and glory. But the fact that we get to realize what
we did back then may have cherished and broken their souls in some ways, we always wonder
if we could alter the deeds that wounded their affection in our times of immaturity…And
pray that we get a second chance to do so for our next life. *the first two lines have some inspiration from another piece*
Even if our hearts were as strong as a storm, we’d still feel a little bit sad
Knowing that we’ve lost our grandfather, our friend, our dad.
For so many years, we’ve felt their presence
In so many ways, we’ve felt complete,
But truly, even if we deny – We sometimes skip a heartbeat.
Our lives are nothing but their memories and their art,
Orbiting us each day, reminding us of who we are
Where we stand and to whom we belong,
We pray and cry up oceans for them night after night
Praying to be together just one more time, in the worlds of light.
But yes you are so fortunate, that you got to leave,
You’ve made it to the greater step, I pray for us to meet.
May your soul be blessed and may it shine brighter than the sun, Again and again
‘I love you’ it’s not a lie, I may not have said it that much
But I hope you knew inside, even if I may have been unkind as such
Nothing is left for us to do but feel the tears stream down our eyes
For we, once in a while have broken their hearts with one or two lies,
Their face glows and vividly fades away from our dreams those nights
That’s when we fall, fall down to our knees, pray for we could have changed
The ways we reacted back in those days.
Thoughts of those moments, thoughts of their sorrow smile
Now makes us realize how we never cared,
For that to overcome, we treasure the good times we’ve shared,
The times we’ve heard them say “You’ve made me proud”
The times we’ve felt them lay their hands, oh so be crowned.
Their tender touch, their forgiveness
Their blessings for us and their happiness,
We pray to feel it all again
Bring it all again,
To the eternal life, after this time.
Copyright © Aqeb Be-Nazir Ibn Minar
A man stands on a hilltop, weeping.
Come and see.
For he has watched a nation unaware,
chipped away to just this memory.
We'd found that we could meet a war,
and through a sacrifice to find its end
and then in one obscenity, (a burst of light)
attended with our souls the foetal cavity
of madness--gave to the world
a blood-besotted flag,
and yielded up its ghost.
His tears come hotter, for
they cannot be assuaged.
Once we knew that love existed.
Beauty quietly confirmed itself
before our eyes; we had a god
and ate his flesh, and drank of him--
and once we lost ourselves in moonlight.
Once we sang.
And shall we turn away?
Such grief is unconsolable
and may not be forever shared.
The man has tears enough for us.
Our nation, swept away by greed,
left us only with this hilltop.
Come, and let us find the strength
for our own weeping,
our own blasphemous eternity.
Copyright © Robert Ludden
Daddy's Little Girl
Near twenty-seven years since he has passed,
Not a day goes by he does not enter my thoughts.
No presence of knowledge this time might be the last,
Our final words were an argument that I've since forgot.
Only a few short days after we disagreed,
My headstrong ways came honestly from dad.
I noticed one morning his right ear did bleed,
He said, "Don't worry sweetheart, it's nothing bad".
Myself I blamed for the longest time,
Re-assurance came from many others.
Was an old war wound that stole his mind,
Is what the doctors told us and our mother.
Seeking comfort in church for the feelings of guilt,
Always remembering that heated moment of shame.
The bond between us that took years to be built,
The stroke he suffered, I assumed all the blame.
Months passed by and more strokes to come,
Whispered words in his absent ears how sorry I was.
Did he hear me say "I'm sorry"..just maybe one?
I sadly doubt he heard my words of sorrowful love.
Before I knew it, the good Lord took him away,
When he was gone, my mind was in a whirl.
As I sit here and write and even to this very day,
I have faith he knows, I'm forever "daddy's little girl".
Copyright © Maggie Mae McAfee
Nana’s a safe harbour for a child,
a rattling baby taking water
at the christening font, and fluid
in the lungs. Little’s of consequence
for you, ceremony or theology, or
clan gathering. We pilfer your
routine deftly as rogue genes have
jellied your muscle. But held above
the waterline you’re safe now, if
perplexed to tears, the agony of taking
passage from death to life not quite
surpassing navigation of more hostile currents.
Copyright © Alistair Bain
I see you
I hear you
you must be
You still exist
I still miss you
I see you
I hear you
stay with me
I need thee
unit am I
without an ally
I need you
stay with me
I need thee.
Copyright © Lukasz Walterowicz
Another son is dead, until five he lived.
For his long life at Shah-Hamdan he had threads tied
“Shehij ninder yee nai. Gahas Kormakh Khudayas Hawale”, his mother cries.
No news can penetrate across the mountains. Satellites work here no more
My Kashmir burns. And no one knows.
An old woman with torn scarf sits besides fire. While feeding her neighbor’s child
She sighs. Is my son dead or alive? She silently cries.
In Madrasa I hear children reciting Quran. A girl’s come out dragging her feet.
I remember her from somewhere. I remember her seeing naked.
Oh! God she is the one who was raped.
Nights have turned pitch black. My eyes are losing the habit of sight
Midnight soldier’s set another house ablaze. At least there is some sort of light.
Many letters have been written to God. Postcards posted of those raped girl’s
But its curfew again. No post office deliver’s the message again.
Death comes from everywhere. Close your windows mother
For bullet respects no womb. It turned Gulistans into tombs.
From the plains the visitors come to visit their God’s
They are our only witnesses but hypocrites at heart.
They say paradise is kaasmir. While my Kashmir is ablaze
They testify against us. Is anybody witnessing this? No one at all
Be witness to at least this. Open up your eyes my Lord!
When paradise is painted with colors of hell, certainly divinity loses its grace
In the news the reporter is beaten. Bamboo sticks are hungry for human blood.
Let Kashmir go to hell. A new promise in their portfolio.
Threads have given up at Dastegeer’s place. Even they are horrified at our fate.
In Maisuma boys are dragged by police. They close their dreams, end their screams
In a police gypsy.
Men shape into monsters when they are given right to anarchy.
The gypsy drives them into the dark cantonments. They will remember this day
Interrogation officer comes. After celebrating his son’s birthday.
The winds from the cantonments bring their news
Burned tires around their necks. Burning stoves near their heads.
The knife tearing up their flesh.
And the boys cry, “We haven’t batted yet. Cricket. We know nothing”.
Death wants children to be headlines
Hunger has affected the heavens as well.
Graves are full. No more space left.
We need land of the plains. For our graves.
In the ac car the bureaucrat goes. The mother’s with search full eyes
Ask about their sons they lost. They drink their tears
And he sips champagne.
Copyright © Muzzaffar Ahmad Shah
You gaudy stars do not get giddy when I grieve
Nor wrest through clouds to melt this darkness
That so befits what logics to your destiny weave
For all dreams, and all theories prove finiteness
Where death draws the line,
And purposes find terminus
And we a quick, withered gust
To its vexing carnal fate resign
While amoeba dares the boundary we cannot pass
And earthworms wallow above our graves in grass.
O Tanya, I would talk to God for you, and ask him
Why you had to be murgered in your youth, I may
But cannot tell which way your feelings, it is a dim
Realm without news, and you may there, rather stay
Where security bars do not fail
For murderers and murdered, keep
Alike the common pillow of sleep
And nothing changes where prevail
Death upon soul. But what rightt even then that you
Should one day keep company with murderers too?
It was the Sabbath, and all the angels that around us
Share the worship of our hearts, how did they Lot alone
Beheld in peril, did they not hear and join your chorus?
Since stars are only burning gas, and not jewelled stone
What other myth of man must fall
What other thing have I now to know
That misplaced faith may bring no woe
When sorrows chain the back to wall
Take them all, Lord, except the truth of your soon coming
No other hope is left when earth about us begins crumbling.
Tonight the light left the stars
Ashrouded in dark veils of sorrow
Neglecting callous clouds, and spars
Yearning against damocles tomorrow,
Agrieved my heart for a young life lost
Lady woman, I conjure her majesty
Orchid unseared by sun or frost
Winnowed and wilted by a tragic end
Earthly fragrance flood heaven again
Farewell, sweet teacher, hush to sleep
Anthems from your voice hold memory
Resplendant while yet bereft we weep
Evincing faith in the cold claws of misery
Well you made your example yesterday
Elusive mortality, how you discomfit us
Levelling us in our glory to common dust
Litany now, ye angels, bring Christ and his day.
Copyright © David Smalling
Stuck at the bottom
I'm caving in.
One thought of you not here
Puts me in a claustrophobic nightmare.
I can't wake up.
I may not see you again.
Reality isn't different from my sleep.
I'm still running aimlessly away to nowhere.
I'm so blinded.
Every second is hidden that I'm spinning in circles.
Makes me reckless, violent, purple dead.
Over and over something's wanting me to say
I was a creep for treating you that way.
Can you forgive me?
I promise I won't make you cry.
One more chance I'll be a loyal friend.
Walk to your door.
I'm closing in.
Standing on thin ice there's no turning back.
I'll say it straight out without fumbling.
For once in my life
I confess it was a mess.
Screwed up everything special we had planned.
But now I'm here alone.
Hope is my only invisible ally.
I raise my white flag to the skies.
Will you operate my wounded heart?
The stakes are high.
But I'm willing to continue where we left off
If you have room in your heart for rent.
Copyright © phillip chong
I believe in angels
I saw one just today
She sat beside a mother
As they took her child away
She wrapped her wings around her
She listened while mom prayed
Through coffee cups and flowing tears
And yet the angel stayed
Nurses, doctors came and went
Daylight turned to eve
Mom sat alone or paced the halls
And yet the angel would not leave
Scrubs of green approached the doors
With paper shoes; mask hanging free
The angel stayed because she knew
The news was bad, you see
A little boy was draped in light
He joined the angel by her side
They held mom's hand as she was told
Her baby boy had died.
Copyright © Lena Pate