Love, love, love, what is love?
Love soars and fears no height;
love is joy and feels right;
love's god-like, from above.
Love softens the stone heart
and pierces the dark night;
it releases Christ's light
and stays, to ne'er depart.
Love loves you at all cost
and gives eternal life;
love saves those dead and lost
and kills Death with God's Knife!
Love's God's divine, free grace,
his love for the human race.
Copyright © Ngoc Nguyen
An omnipotent'd been ideated by militant clan,
Aeons tell how it put them through a social pace.
To set up abode or to relate races with astute plan,
God had its genesis;women-men needed it to seek solace.
As fact a woman conceives, is manifest
Man couldn't conceive of anything but God for law and lex.
Dyed-in-the-wool,they kept bending head for mending mind lest
They vex orders of war, worship and women for sex.
But missile killed gravid woman with faded hue,
Her baby survived in placenta of its mom of Gaza:
A whole race, policies, religion; yet nothing to rue,
As if all were busy computing to bring future bonanza.
No more sacred are our Temple and Church or Mosque and tomb.
Truth says:fetus Jesus'd been bestowed on Mary's womb!
Copyright © PRITHWISH MUKHERJEE
This is the greatest struggle that mocks me,
To be a distant sigh, caused by this queen;
A rose that has yet to compliment thee,
beyond the scope of eyes, already seen.
There is mystery in her soft appeal,
a humble frame that solicits my quest;
and while life leaves us with answers concealed,
I’m convinced this broad advance is perfect.
For while life is bitter, this is pleasure;
To gracefully shatter this mundane silence,
and dispel the devils space, indeed clever;
let’s rejoice in brief absence coined timeless.
With these tendencies forever burning,
may this one flesh never cease from yearning.
Copyright © Jiril Clemons
You dislike poetry
because you think
you do not speak it,
because you cannot see it down in ink.
You’ve not heard your honeyed words glistening,
but I have heard you
speak in meter sweet
and metaphor and simile sublime.
To walk in verse,
you needn’t count your feet,
nor is it necessary all lines rhyme.
You disown your words
and deny your tongue
to say you have no interest in verse,
ignorant of the images you’ve sung
and of your own soul’s music
(which is worse).
Poetry’s no academic notion;
its function is to express emotion.
Copyright © James Ph. Kotsybar
Use the sonnet form as you please. Treat her
Like a queen or like a whore. Give her what
She craves. She will with grace so softly guide
Each word written through her body. She will
Let you leave your seed between her lines, so
Let her crave the ink of your pen upon
Her face, your mastery of written word
Displayed. Be not afraid of what she will
Cause you to say in your sleep. Though she induces
Nightmares and cold night sweats, you will
Always, desperately return to her.
The coaxing of her rhythmic heartbeat
Mid-coitus in iambic pentameter
Her loins dripping in satisfied quivers.
Copyright © Samuel Lee
Sonnet: Nothing feeds on itself like violence
Nothing feeds on itself like violence
The more it self-destructs the more its might
Goya geek – padi eaten by its own fence*
The dog that swallows its own tail in fright
Yet nothing changes fast as when throttled
Takes the weight of one’s whole life to wake up
Many the night Dopplegänger dreams rattled
Will the hand that wields the chopper back up
To see the other severed from body
Since violence begins in thoughts at will
Who can hold it back once in thoughts born free
The root cause of violence springs despite will
Envy and hatred begin in the eyes
And stick in the head right until one dies
• Pagar makan padi: Malay for : The fence eats the padi/rice; meaning, treachery (where trust is betrayed).
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
Copyright © T Wignesan
My life is shattered pieces of stained glass,
a thousand puzzle pieces on the ground,
under a skeleton of amder brass,
red, blue, green, yellow, breaks without a sound.
I pick up pieces, trying to see me,
but I just cut my fingers on the side.
Now just an obscure view is all I see,
and it makes me wonder how much I hide.
But its those moments when the rain falls down,
and the rust washes right off my skin.
When I catch a speak at my glowing crown,
and the clear glass lets me see within.
So I put together my stained mirror,
and swore that I wouldn't break, or disappear.
Copyright © Allie Rosenthal
A ZEN Sonnet: Everything comes from Nothing which is Something
Everything comes from Nothing which is Something
Something comes from Nothing which is Everything
Everything comes from Nothing which is No-Thing
No-Thing comes from Some-Thing which is Any-Thing
Everything’s both Something just as well Nothing
Nothing can never be No-Thing and Nothing
Take No-Thing from Some-Thing and you get Nothing
Take Nothing from Something and get Everything
In the end does it matter if there’s Nothing
Only to your aunt who hasn’t seen Any-Thing
And what if you said you must have Everything
You can’t have it all even if there’s No-Thing
Do we go through lives already have-been lived
How else can some tell in detail Life un-lived
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
Copyright © T Wignesan