Visited you today
as the sun set in the horizon…
the orange tinged carnations
were a perfect complement
for the skies
and for you…
orange and blue
always remind me of you
the winds softly blew
and I just sat there
staring at the grass,
well more at your name really…
what I am looking at,
that it’s been seven years
of missing you,
of just putting that reality
at the back of my mind…
But there are days,
such as today
which make me
confront that reality—
I see your smile,
remember your laughter
celebrate your spirit
and your love
Tears, I tell you I have
the most stubborn tears
maybe because they
make it so real for me?
I look around me
and look for that sign
Nope, not there…
I say a prayer
and speak to you
thankful for the life shared
I kiss the date that you were born
and walk away
my reflection on the car window
One last look around,
and then I see it…
a cat, as we drive away…
Skies now streaked purple and pink
**My brother would have been 40 today, May 6…
Copyright © binibining P.iNk
COME MY BROTHER
You asked me the other day, my friend, who
I replied: I am you in another body!
Yes, it is true
Look how much the same we are,
No matter what the color, the creed, the race, the status
Look, I am born and die, suffer and enjoy, love and hate just
I am a father, a brother, a son, a mother, a sister, a daughter, just
Happiness I seek, family to raise I wish, peace to find I look for, just
I yearn, I abhor, I fear, I hope, I bleed, I heal, just
I believe, I doubt, I accept, I refuse, I laugh, I cry, just
We are alike, we are the same, we are brothers, children of
A unique father
Why have we:
To oppose, to fight, to hurt, to destroy, to eliminate
One another ?
Are really our seas that narrow, the oceans that small, the lands so
Limited to contain all of us?
Is it the case that our hearts are not big enough and our minds are not
Wide-open to enfold all men ?
It is up to us, my brother, to change this world we have inherited, with its:
Virtues and vices, history and culture, sins and merits and
Try to make it better, nobler, kinder and more caring world
Obliterating harmful beliefs,
Demolishing injurious divisions,
Destroying detrimental distrust
Bring the dawn of a new loving world,
A world of acceptance, of respect, of justice and of
With peace in our hearts, liberated would we be
From past’s deleterious tribulations
For myriads of years, have kept apart!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
24 OCTOBER 2013
Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis
Brother of the Quill
Join me in a dance
For mother sings nightly
And father sleeps within a trance
they'll never hear our steps
Through hemlock and the fields of wheat
All night long we will dance
Moon Mother lights our way
And our ancestors shine as bright stars
We will run as the wolves
And sing from our hearts
Brother of the Quill
Join me in a prance
We will shoot stars with our arrows
And wish for another dance
They'll never hear the swish
Of when we sneak back in
And fall asleep before Father wakes again
Copyright © Jay Loveless
Home Of The Hang Man
The children are so full of doubt
No one is allowed to speak
No one is allowed to shout
Opinions are driven underground
Seems that every time they do it wrong
Always been the same old song
Never get it right
Never allowed to speak
Never allowed to fight
It’s a strange house
The children are so full of doubt
A strange house
The kids just don’t understand
They don’t see that this is the way it’s all been planned
Keep them frightened is the game
Then all those “other” things won’t need to be explained
Why is big brother always mad
Why is younger brother always sad
Why does he sit in his bedroom all alone
Because it’s a strange house
And not a home
It’s a strange house
The children are so full of doubt
A strange house
Everything they do or say
Is turned into to a weapon to build upon the barricade
And Dad pretends he’s not afraid
Of the sudden discovery of suffocated memories
The dark deeds linger in a cage
Of ridicule and violence that makes the babies cry
So Mum has buried her suspicions worryings away
In Sunday lunches usual farce
A make believe gathering of corrupted loving and pretended merry making
It’s a strange house
The kids are so full of doubt
A strange house
Big brother hit the self destruct
With pills and needles long before he decided he was gay
No one ever asked him why he was so mad
And no one ever asked why younger brother was so sad
He sits up stairs in his room
Surviving in a sea of doubt
The suffocated memories have all come out
He’s always sad and he’s always alone
The babies to they both have grown
But he doesn’t know them anymore
It’s been so long since he left that so called home
It’s a strange home
The children are so full of doubt
A strange house
Their children are so full of doubt
Brought up and made this way
All their futures turn to grey
As all the buried memories fight their own way out
Remember why they always felt so wrong
Remember what happened when we were young
And mother just closed her eyes she did not help
All the future turns to grey
Brought up and made to be this way
Father was the hang man who took their lives away
Copyright © colin mitchell williams
To be called ..
~ Grandma is a Honor ~
I have been blessed with 4 Grandchildren
~ one lays in Heaven " Kaleb " He is God's Angel ~
~ His twin brother he will always watch over , and be in his soul~
For he loved his Brother so much in the womb ,
he chose Heaven which gave life to his twin
~ I feel his spirit when I see the other Grandson ~
Time passed another gift to see
we are " Mickes" and Loved
Our Dad held the title in Baseball
~ that's how we roll ~
those children are Grandmas hero's
The Irish they love big and Family is everything
The brothers will protect the beautiful sister
~ as many lads will be calling ~
Every time my Grandson hits a home run
There will be a Angel watching proudly in the stand
It will be as if the Angel lifted him when he runs
~no one runs faster then my Grandson~
either baseball or Art ~ you shall find your gift given
These children have been blessed~
~ a beauty to hard to describe
If you think not ~~ Take a look at the Mom
That girl can stop Traffic
after raising three and still~
"Inspired by the gift and loss of Grandchildren "
May our precious " Kaleb " softly rest where Angels only Dwell
Copyright © Shanity Rain
I found you crying in the closet when you were only five
A walk-through closet that opened onto both our bedrooms
You had a bad dream didn’t know where to turn
Mom and Dad weren’t home left us with Uncle Joe
but he always went to bed right after supper
And he wasn’t our uncle just a lonely old man
who stayed on when we rented his house
You were my little brother so I took you to my bed
Later you told me I petted you like a little lost puppy
The next morning I helped you make your bed
Our first chore of the day making beds
smoothing and tucking covers
erasing signs of disturbed nights
Making neat what was chaos
We didn’t realize we were making beds in a burning house
Inside our home reality was knocked askew
to match our town struck by the tornado a week ago
I held tightly to your hand as we boarded the bus
Mom was running away from Dad taking us with her
No great adventure awaited us only fear of an unknown future
At ten all I knew to do was bury my face in your cowlick and cry
You ran away from home I found you sitting at the corner
with tears rolling down dirty freckled cheeks
stumped because you were not allowed to cross the street
Your pillowcase full of clothes a sad lump on the pavement
I took your hand and led you home
I taught you to make your own bed
with perfectly tucked corners and fresh clean sheets
But our house was still burning
Soon only the two of us would be left
Our sister headed to Heaven wrapped in her chenille bedspread
Mom trailed behind hanging onto a loose tail of the sheet
flapping forlornly in a cool autumn breeze
I took your hand sat with you on the window seat
We watched parades of people passing through our house
who never noticed us And we waited
We waited years for Mom to return although she slept in her bed
each night and made it first thing in the morning
Our house was still burning
You grew up to set your own houses on fire
It was what you knew making beds in burning houses
Each time I found you took you by the hand
led you to a peaceful place where we could sit quietly
and watch the world go by for a time
Words unnecessary between us
They had been since before you could talk
when Mom placed your chubby newborn self
in my four-year-old arms and said Here’s your baby brother
You watch out for him He needs you
Your fires have all gone out now
No burning embers left to catch on the bed covers
You make your bed with ease precision
and a renewed sense of purpose
I watch happily from a distance of only miles
And know you can feel me still holding your hand
For Kevin, the most exasperating, loyal, and lovable little brother anyone could have.
Copyright © Monterey Sirak
Since first I saw you, it was your eyes,
mesmerizing, your gaze transporting
me to a realm, not of fantasy, real,
where young men go when cupid’s
arrow takes root.
Since first I saw you, it was your lips,
captivating, holding me frozen
in anticipation of our lips brushing
for the first time.
Since first I saw you, it was your voice,
a crescendo, light, invigorating,
each word you speak intensifies
my hearing, enveloping each
note, time ceases as I hang motionless
Since first I saw you, it was your hair,
long, flowing, gently rising above
your shoulders as a slight breeze
passes through sending waves
of your essence my way.
The sun magnifying each strand,
highlighting the minute
variances of invigorating color,
creating a halo effect, a portrait of
your beauty forever imprinted.
Since first I saw you, It was you,
my love forever more for you,
Copyright © Mac McGovern
A burst of white light
gamma rays, overbearing
a flash of brilliance
burns through to my soul
everything is like hell
the world starts to melt
in the blink of an eye
just the cold blackness
I don't care if I am not again
what I once was, for at this moment
I am greater now
than ever before
I took the path between
teetering, tight roping walking
right up to my right
divined in my unholy state
I thought I told you
I am your king
still you sit there, hesitating
I know you hate me
what does that mean?
I hate just about everything
still I'm chosen
I did not wish before
now bow down to me
refuse me no more
for I shall always be your demon
until you accept me as your King.
I don't even know you
though you say we used to be
best of friends, you and me
the day you ditched me
I remember now
exactly how it played out
back when we were just tiny things
even back then I still was King
you thought me stupid
just a ruse
I would laugh inside, you see?
not one of you single, mean people
ever even knew me
in a world, mostly seen to me
that is why only I can be your true King
and bring forth a new source
of light everlasting.
As two worlds collide slowly aligned
one wrapped in shadows
one bathed in white
evils swirling in the clouds above
I'll always be the king you love
to hate or despise as in your blood
I thought I told you, I am the one
I am the way, the way out shall be shown
breathe in my spirit as it carries you away
breathe in my faith it shall carry your empty space
and deposit you gently on a cloud just enough
higher than you've ever dreamed of
for I am king now, and your in my hell
your in my imagination, I'll just never tell
you'll feel as though dreaming, you'll feel now
if you try and see
you were always found the most
shared in the light cast upon me
the last bright star in heaven.
Denounce my name, if you may
One year later, still not afraid
A black sheep, a darkened spade
That's just life, I'm not right
I'm in the wrong, follow along
Like a piper, I'll pitch a song
Mesmerized, the weak wills sing
I thought he told you, he's still our king.
Copyright © Bj Fard
He woke and saw his beloved asleep with one breast partially exposed
And with his fantastic limp he works his way to the kitchen
He made coffee for her with croissant lathered with jam
Gently he pulled at the exposed women and gestures with the tray
Happily she wakes and with great affection reaches for him
Coffee is second and pastries with jam come close to him
But he is first and the love hits him like the wind
Gently it began and gale force now
He had to lash himself so he wouldn't be swept away
And it grew
She always lay in their position and there was no other
He would mold himself to her and tease her nipple
He came home weathered from the battle and with grief
Friends had been shot by snipers and the heat
He had seen a woman with a basket approach his friend
And she dropped the basket and pulled the belt
The explosion deafened him and his comrade's face is gone
Fragments hit him but he is running to his friend
But the friend lays silent
Gazing to the wetness on his leg he falls
He is deafened and wakes in terror and looks upon the leg
And finding himself in bed she tries to talk with him
But he claim's it's a bad dream and the basket falling
The limp was his reminder of that day and he eats the croissant for his friend
Copyright © Patrick Cornwall
Here you are, only twelve, at our kitchen table.
Such a carrot top you were! Strangers used to think
you were our red-head mother’s natural son.
And here’s that photo you took of me at college.
Though you’re not in it, how could I ever forget
it was you in front of me that snapped that shot?
For I’m laughing and so glad you came to see me!
In this one, all ten of us are in the back yard
dressed in our Sunday best - our first big reunion!
I’m nearly 30; just look at my silly perm!
Folks still mistake me for Dori in this picture!
Look how Mom and Thea - for once - are smiling!
You’re standing behind me, in a lovely grey suit,
only 32 and almost out of law school!
Here from more recent pictures, this shows a rare time
we were joined, but sadly, for Dad‘s funeral.
You‘re not in this one, Dale . . . nor in any others.
That picture in our back yard was to be the last.
My dear stepbrother, the best man I ever knew -
Taken from us so young. . . you remain beloved.
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich
" I remember that day
As clear as the crystal springs in June"
only it wasn't June, It was August
the morning air was thick like smoke
it choked me awake
the first blush of day
flushed across the sky
blood red clouds
colored her path
I lay still
like the air
without a hint
of summer's wind
the clock on the wall
with the tick, tock,
its bony hands
seemed to skip along
until I arose from bed
I sipped on coffee
as I took in the news
unsure what my day would bring
...and then I could hear a buzz
as if a fly was making circles
beside the bed, then a ring, ring,
ring echoed within my purse
I stared at the clock
my heart began to beat
faster then time
was it my father
did something happen
I worried as I listened
as if being choked
with my ears
to make sense
of the words
...and then silence
fell all around
as if deaf
unable to process
who turned 49
just the day before
like the august wind
no more jokes
or candles atop cake
his wick had burned out
within that last breath of air
and it burns, slow
as the years pass
still to this day
yet I'll remember that day
pick a line contest
"Reflections when the summer breathes"
Sandy Adams 8-22-2013
Copyright © Sandra Adams
The tags are labels placed on a table.
Beginning with A and ending with Z, the labels placed on the table enables me to readings.
I defeated being judgmental and did not become analytic.
My mind is a schema.
The stems are roots ending.
Argumentative are the colors exploding.
White becomes mixed and black is a misted.
Meaning is that both are within an element.
The bags that I carry appear to be heavy but they are not.
They are held many ways so that my arms will not tire.
I walk with a slight lean to my shoulder because my purse must strap.
I arch upright like a cat.
The stems rooted and garlic is scape.
The railroad track is the shortcut we take.
The blood is enriched and the heart strengthens.
Once grown, he knows life ascertains.
Pulling back the curtains, he views the beautiful garden planted by his beloved mother.
The clothes in this bag I will wash completing my chores for today.
Once done, I will leave to find something to enhance my life.
I feel agitated and I must relax.
Tomorrow will be one of the best days in time.
The stem is a broken root.
It uses or loses its route to new growth.
The knowledge it provides is wisdom to the planter.
The stem asks the question of why did this happen.
Copyright © Verlena S. Walker
He is the silly brother of death
is never seen around the cradle
and has never turned up for the
He is waiting for you with jester cap and painted grin
Roaring with laughter he pushes aside
Together on the seesaw
he pushes you higher
and higher until you
dangle over boundless
gorges until you
scream you have to go because you
so many things to do
so little time to spend
With both feet back
on solid ground you buy him a
for his big brother to arrive
Copyright © Niels Blomberg
Man of La Mancha
Fat cat donning
A gray flannel suit
Fake alligator shoes
Sitting behind a desk
For erroneous reasons
brother with Spike words
Strapped for freedom
To write abstract words
Words of wonder
From a latter day poet
for thy self
Mustering words of confusion
Detail lies and half truths
To abort friendship
Brother my brother
There is room
on this place
We call mother earth
Let the past be
I extend my hand
And in ending this
Alma con alma
Soul to soul
Honor and truth
Is here for
Copyright © Tonytocaa Camacho
The Brother In- Law Part II
christine asked Christian - what are we going to do now?
Christian answered - I will take care of you. I will leave you
in a safe place, while I go look for fortune. They left in the
wagon they had and went back to town. Christian found
a Convent and he talked to the Mother Superior.
He told her what had happened and asked if he could leave
his sister there, while he went to look for a new life for him and
her. The Mother Superior said yes - that they would take care
Christian left and went far away. He was twenty years old.
he was young and very handsome. he soon found a job and
worked very hard. After ten years, he became very rich. He had
a car, a home, nice clothes and money. He said to himself - now
I'll go and get my sister.
He started his journey back. When he got to the Convent, the
Mother Superior did not recongized him. He told her who he was
and why he was there. She told him - I'm sorry - she can not go
with you. He asked why? She said - because she got married
He wanted to know - who the hack, she got married to. The Mother
Superior said - she got married to JESUS. She took the vows last
week. He turned around and looked at JESUS and said - I couldn't
have picked a better Brother In - Law myself.
He went back to the place where his parents had lived and everything
was reconstructed, only better and with a bigger house. He soon found
a girl and and got married too. He went back to the convent and donated
a lot of money to help them out. Everyone was happy. His sister and him
would always stay very close. The end....
04/24/2013 Written by
Lucilla M. Carrillo
A story/poem that I hope
Copyright © Lucilla Carrillo
The brother In - Law Part I
A long time ago, there lived a young couple.
They were very much in love. About a year after
they got married - they had their first child. It was
a lovely baby boy. They named him Christian. He
was loved from the start. The father worked hard
in the field and the mother in the house.
Five years went by and the wife told the husband
that she was expecting another child. The husband was
overjoyed. He told his wife - I hope it's a girl this time.
The day finally came and a daughter did arrive. She was
named Christine. She was beautiful and a gift from God.
Christine was loved from the beginning. They were all very
happy. Life in the farm was good. The parents saw their
kids growing up. They all worked very hard to keep the
place going. Little did they know that destiny would
change their lives.
The parents were very proud of their children. Christine
was going to be fifteen years old. On her Birthday - her
parents gave her a big party. She wore a beautiful dress
that made her look like a princess.
Two days after her Birthday, Christian had to go to town.
He invited Christine to go with him. she accepted and the
left very early. It would take them most of the day. While
they were in town doing their errands, back home the mother
and father were doing their chores, when some outlaws came,
robbed them, killed them and burned their home.
When Christian and Christine returned - they could not believe
what they saw. nothing was left. They both cried a lot. Christain
burried their parents. They both prayed and said good bye...
To be continued....
I hope you are enjoying this...
Copyright © Lucilla Carrillo
In my dreams we sing and play,
Chase each other like we once did.
lying on the hill at night we would dream about another life.
A place beyond the stars, a place that only we knew of.
We grew up and our priorities changed
I never expected our paths would not cross again
nor did I picture bars separating us.
In my dreams is where we meet
It's the only way to touch your face,
see your smile and hold your hand
for we are living in different lands.
You are my brother and brother you'll be
and I will see you again in my dreams...
Copyright © cory long
Dear God, He's done it once again,
He had to go back, and take care of them,
His real momma and his sister, and his step Daddy too,
They needed things, that only he could do.
It's a bad part of town, he's told me so,
I asked him not to leave, but he said he had to go.
Bring him back, I want him in one piece,
You brought him once before,
Now Please God, return him to me.
My brother is my savior, I worship at his feet,
I need him in my life, his presence is so sweet.
I heard a slamming door, that must be him now,
I'll pray again later, that's a promise, my vow.
Thank you God, for bringing him home to me,
If he was awake I'm sure he'd agree.
He came home last night, with a black and blue eye,
His lip was swollen, and he had hidden tears in his eyes.
He ribs were bruised, in fact I think one was broke,
His head was throbbing, when he came in he barely spoke.
I helped him down the hall, though he's much bigger than I,
And when his knees gave out, you must have been nearby.
I somehow found a strength I never had before,
And with my arms around him, I got him through the door,
I laid him on my bed, and told him not to sleep,
I stayed up all night, and tended to his needs.
Dear God, thank you, for keeping him alive,
I don't know what happened, but I didn't let myself cry.
He's my brother God, and my love for him will thrive,
We watch each others backs, you don't have to ask why.
You answered my prayers, you brought my brother to me,
You gave him a home, God I hope you can see,
We don't need an answer, though our question is as simple as can be,
We sometimes wonder, did you give me to him, or him to me.
Copyright © Jay Loveless
The black river mills are seen in the distance
The red skies show spiraling, gray clouds
The earth is man’s canvas
And the mills slowly mix the paint
We have seen the devastation
We have felt the desperation
Some of us wallow in our watercolor
And leave the canvas blank
The mills crush their bones to the bottom
Mixing them nicely into the paint
People are pushed in without thought
Others go in willingly
The river mills are closer to my view
And my brush is stiff and unused
Women and children walk alongside the rivers
The elderly follow and sometimes shake their heads
On a cliff, I watch them all
My brushstroke stiff and worthless
Shakily I climb down the precarious cliff
Brush in hand
Canvas in view
Watching people suffer in the paint of their mistakes
People wanting to be part of the picture
I never desired this. . .
I wanted to create a masterpiece
The women and children are gone
I see a little black boy standing alone
He is watching me curiously
Tears in his eyes
He is a watcher
He was born to suffer
He never desired this either
The boy smiles sadly and takes my hand
“It’s okay. I understand.”
I shed digital tears
And program some control
It is quiet, save for the sound of the river mills
It has mixed well
The colors are astounding
“Are you sure you want to stay?”
The boy nods.
“No one wants me mixed with them.”
He is a creator
He is a watcher
I dip my brush into the churning waters
I then hand it to the little black boy
“The world is your canvas now. . .” I whisper.
It was NEVER mine to meddle with. . .
And we are set apart for a reason
But together we are incomparable
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal
Ever since the flames licked
my fair pink burning flesh,
nothing in my life has remained the same.
I had to go back in to
save my little brother Chris.
Life without him would kill me,
besides myself I would forever blame.
Even though it’s been ten years,
my face still feels the pain.
Having to go through high school
with a scarred face is just lame.
I’ve got the body of a goddess;
I must admit I’m beautiful from the neck down,
but the hideous burn scars
on my face have remained.
Months after the accident
weeks before school started,
a knock at my door came.
An anonymous donor sent a box
full of beautifully hand decorated
Mardi Gras masks made for only the fairest lady,
that’s the day I got my new name.
Each month a new box of masks
would arrive and I would wear everyone.
I became known as the royal shapely, disfigured lady.
Mardi Gras was my fame.
One night a mysterious white box appeared,
inside rested the most unique and intricately
adorned mask of all. It was a pure white mask adorned
with a delicate French ivory lace, fluffy pure white
dove feathers and shiny white pearls outlined the mask.
White is normally considered lame
but this was breathtaking, nothing plain.
Inside the box was also an
invitation, asking me to attend
the prom with "Masked Bandit" Lane.
I couldn’t believe it! All along it was
my handsome next door neighbor and
Chris' best friend, who had been sending
the ornate masks to me. He was my hero now,
my enthusiasm could hardly be tamed..
Lane had always adored my brother Chris and seemed
to like me too. I always knew he had
a crush on me, but I never knew to what extent.
I rushed over to his house where he was playing
with my brother Chris a heated basketball game.
I hugged him and told him that
I would love to go with him to the prom.
Just between you and me,
Lane and I will always be the
masked King and Queen of Mardi Gras
and forever in love we will reign.
Copyright © Marie Harrison
A tale of one mans rage:
I listen to shattered voices
and trembling fearful screams
rattling my inner conscious
corrupting once vibrant dreams
A stream of words trapped inside
left hidden for so long
escape with a sudden fury
in that moment I was wrong
The alcohol in my system
enhanced this primal rage
smacking her down emotionally
my actions very strange
Its like I stepped outside myself
watching this violence transpire
I only wanted to talk
but my actions did not inspire
Physically I may have struck her
but I honestly don't remember
with the devils blood surging my veins
intensifying my temper
Now i'm filled with agony
and torment for what i'd done
now I must rise above it
for my daughter and my son
Dedicated to a wonder father who had finally reached his limit.
After so long, and so much abuse, he SNAPPED...
Copyright © Jared Pickett
Matthew, Beautiful with his hazle, brown, green, eyes.
He has been a favorite of the ladies since my mom brought him home.
The darkness of the brown in his skin, but the light in to, is so raidient.
He can make one laugh, like no one else.
He's ten, but man he can act like a little old man that has gone through life.
He try's to boss me, ha! that little reble.
Somtimes I feel like I'm a bad example For him.
I wonder if he loves me, I know he does, but I just wonder sometimes.
My baby brother he will always be, and I will love, even when he hates me.
He will suceed, for sure.
Baby brother I love you.
Please love me.
Copyright © Emily Kroeger
Regretably the moment passed,
For one last kiss, the chance expired.
Invisibly your time amassed,
To go beyond all things desired.
Too late I hear those mocking words;
Your opportunity has gone!
Such words now seemingly absurd,
Seemed trapped as if a haunting song.
If I could have that day once more
instead of waving hands would show,
one long embrace with you implore,
then you could leave and I might go.
For this was not just one more death
of a soul so cruelly apprehended.
This parted me from every breath,
and left behind the long tormented...
Copyright © Neil Marsden
Brothers killing brothers......a field of blood
sisters slaying sisters.......instead of bearing sons.
mothers ,daughters..fathers, sons
all dead and gone, kindred spirits slaughtered one by one
by the hand of those each should love.
I wonder if at the last moment they had second thoughts
Is this the way to go ..isn't there a better way?
Perhaps dialogue or patience would have been better
Less lives could have been lost ..less regrets to bear.....more hearts could have
Yet the war continues unabated..send in more troops is what we say.
Isn't there another way?
Too many orphans left.. ..uncared for and grieving
too many tears have been shed.... hearts harden.
Prisoners of war......wounded and shell shocked veterans....... physically
handicapped....mentally deranged....a terrible plight
both sides share the same fate....pain and sadness is all that's left
no one wins yet the war never ends.
Love's now a thing of the past
only anger and hatred remain
When, oh when will Peace prevail.
Copyright © Margaret Okubo
Was it all that long ago
when we drove thru the streets?
Singing those crazy drinking songs
that you taught me.
Oh, how I wish for those days again
when the boulevards came easily.
Our voices in the open air as we sped
in that sports car of yours.
Your death gave me a voice that
I did not know I had until you left me in that void.
Now, words fill the pages of a writer
instead of the notes of a musician.
Sometimes the tempo rises
Other times it is staccato and slow.
How can I tell others my memories of those days
as I watched your courageous battle.
Your voice still sings those songs in me
from I know not where.
Was it all that long ago...
Copyright © Dan Cwiak
"Dear God, give me a big brother.
I'll be the best little sister ever.
I know its not possible for my parents to go back in time.
But I'd love for a big brother that is all mine.
Make him kind, and make him sweet,
He doesn't have to be perfect, as long as he loves me.
Dear God, can he be taller, with big soulful eyes,
And when he smiles, can it rival the sun's shine?
Give him strength, as fierce as a lion's roar,
He'll swear to protect me forever more.
He would wipe my tears from my cheeks,
And with a laugh easily calm me.
He would understand my heart and head,
In a way that no one would ever fully understand.
Dear God, can he teach me,
All the things I would never know.
He doesn't have to come from where I come from,
But can he takes me to the places that he goes.
Dear God, I am begging,
Please grant this one plea,
I realize that it may be a hard request,
I know you are not a Genie.
But here I am alone and cold,
With no true love from my family,
I'm lonely and I'm longing,
For someone who will care for me.
Dear God, please give me a big brother,
I promise I'll be the best little sister ever"
Copyright © Jay Loveless
Not a day goes by
that I don't remember you.
A castle in my heart was made for you,
from the nightmares, to guard you.
As the cold breeze passing through sings,
wrapped you, shielding with my wings,
when he came sneaky in the night,
the grim reaper, he dares might.
with a slash from his scythe,
he took my wings too.
Flightless, wandering lost,
tired, fell kissing the dirt.
Woke up one morning,
in the middle of the woods.
Down on my knees, pleading you,
"Dear brother! one word from you will do."
For now I know what love is?
but none I have to share it with.
Copyright © ravi kiran
Let another sun set,
Let another flower wilt,
Let another autumn cast its gloom,
Let another tear role,
As ye part, and bid
The final adieu.
St. Stephen’s college
Copyright © Suyash Saxena
Today as I stand here,
With your name engraved not just on stone
But in the hearts of millions who thank you
For not letting them cry,
I feel proud that it was you…
We wish you were here,
There’s not a day we don’t think of you.
There’s not a minute we don’t miss you.
But we’re glad you ran into death
So that a thousand others could walk into life.
It was not your duty,
You weren’t meant to be there,
But you took it up,
Did what you had to do
As a citizen of the global world.
The little ones will never know
What a wonderful person you were.
But they’ll always know that
You were a hero…
How you died for the greater good…
Tears, grief, pride, longing - a blend of everything.
Its been ten years, ten long years
But the memory’s still fresh and cutting.
It still hurts to know
That you could be here had you stayed back.
But you didn’t and that’s made you a hero.
You ran straight into it
While a thousand others were running away.
Your death is history….
Millions died with you
But you stand out ‘coz you made your choice.
As I stand here, I know that a decade ago, today
You were here somewhere,
Running into a cloud of dust and ashes
Searching for the smallest sign of movement
To bring them back to life.
Somewhere between the despair and hope
You forgot to breathe…
I pray every day that
History would rewind itself
Back to that fateful September morning,
Not because I want to hold you back…
But because I want to come with you…
It would have made a difference.
I know it would have…
I know you’re with me
In my dreams, in my daily life
Laughing at my blunders,
Guiding me through hardships.
My guardian angel…
On this September morning,
Not exactly the same as before,
Here I am telling the world
That my twin brother died
Saving the victims of 9/11.
Copyright © Neethu Roy
Reflections of imperfections
have shown me a way
that I can move mountains
through my power of faith
even though I can't see him
I know he is real
through the power of prayer
and a Love that I feel
It's growing inside me
like a flower in bloom
shall I reveal my powers
or is it too soon
I am reading the signs
through my darkness I find
a reason for belief in
the light of mankind
that I know shall overcome
the greatest of odds
the Love I seek amazes me
especially through the flaws
because now I am inspired
through the hero's that bring
my throne through the darkness
on which I return on as your King.
Copyright © Bj Fard