The poet, as the life force, what fuels their muse,
and the inspiration of their poems.
"WHY I WRITE?"
They say You are different
How am I different, I have not a clue
Pain comes to everyone born as a woman
How we look at things, the nature of it all
Our survival depends
Yes, I am different, I am distinctive
I am fire, I am water,
I am heart
Everything is woven into one
I carry
Words that are fierce and pierce your heart
Subdued and benumbed into a sea of seahorses
Do not define, by what you see or by what you hear
Stories are brought by breeze, gone by the wind
Rather you see me as me
You accept me as me
A scroll writer from the ancient Anubis
Now scattered to earth by Brahma
Then will you know whether I'm poles apart.
© SHEILA ANN PACKIRNATHAN
Malaysia
******
THE RED ROSE
Like green leaves we live in prime spring,
the nightingales in boughs often sing,
I saw a rose blooming in March,
With a smile, my heart wishes to catch,
Young, beautiful, active in a red dress,
I know her name has a great bless!
Eyes are dancers an messengers,
She is as a queen among the flowers,
With inflaming glances, she has bright beam,
As a piper in a soft poppy dream
I whisper. priestly words in tranquil tempest,
The bee sat proudly on her breast,
I sent my sighs to carry the bee away,
Fears, tears, groans with me in a way,
Like a diamond, full of purity
Smile is the mark of her beauty.
Her light is a sweet harbinger of love
Cherry lips, whiter than lily dove.
A heart is a temple of delight,
A face is a perfumed light,
Her eyes and lips, a passionate anthem
To my temple, the smile is the open sesame.
Tunes are quiet with the tossing grass,
The longest lie I have with a blushing lass.
Blissful union with her sweet spirit,
Splendor, melody, and little sunlit
Shake a shoulder, my eyes fast shine,
I evince the sore story with the line.
Like a shadow, dreams are fast done,
I feel sad when the rose is gone!
© AHMED YASIR DHAIN
Iraq
******
CONSUMING PASSION OF A POET
When the fervor was restricted to an unnamed flow
When the imprisoned soul lost its way in a world of sorrows,
When an ardent love didn't find its heartfelt soul,
When a fiercely energetic aura got lost in an apathetic air,
When a melodramatic intensity was chained by a phlegmatic being,
That lost emotion became a poet in me!
When an amorous strength became cold,
When a hot-blooded stamina was cursed by a passionless person,
When an aroused love became steamy,
When sensual lines turned into sizzling eagerness,
When a torrid drama couldn't withstand the zealous
Wave during melodrama,
That mercurial soul became a poet in me!!
©SONAL RAO
India
******
I AM POETRY
Where would you find me?
In the vagaries of love,
Or the vicissitudes of war,
Or, all that which lies
in between?
The rising of the sun,
And the setting of the moon
And all those moments that lie
in between?
In the waking of the consciousness,
and the lulling into sleep,
And all those junctures that fall in between?
The harshness of reality
The gossamer of dreams
And all that matter, which lies
in between?
The exactitude of words,
And the cloudiness of thoughts,
And all the bits of psyche that lie
in between?
The euphoria of arrivals,
And the anguish of departures,
And all those emotions that lie
in between.
©SHWETA SAHAI
India
******
Our muse fans the flame,
If ink runs dry today,
We shall write with our blood.
© USMAN ABDULKARIM
Nigeria
******
BRIDGE OF WORDS
Between the shores of difference,
Where conflict's waters churn,
A bridge of verse extends its planks
For those who wish to learn.
Each stanza forms a steppingstone
Across the troubled tide,
Each metaphor a handrail firm
To guide us side by side.
In rhythm's gentle constancy
We find a common beat,
Where enemies might pause to hear
Their mirrored hearts compete.
For poetry speaks languages
That borders cannot claim,
It weaves through walls and barricades
With whispers soft as rain.
Through sonnets, ghazals, haiku, psalms -
Our shared humanity
Flows free of doctrine, creed, or land
In pure simplicity.
So let us build with careful words
These bridges, arch by arch,
That strangers might become as friends
As toward each other march.
For peace is not the absence of
Our differences displayed,
But rather how we honor them
In verses newly made.
© CONCETTA PIPIA
U.S.
******
Beloved Bard
On this day
let verses rise
high like dawn-lit,
that hue in the skies.
Let your ink traverse
both mountain and valley.
Let words soar like a kite,
like raindrop sprinkles.
Let the whispers echo
in the jungle of soul.
Let it find time and place
in sorrow or delight.
Let inks sail across,
across the sea of life.
Let its rhyme relive pain.
Let its rhythm awake, numb.
© NYOK M. MARENG
Sudan
******
A POET'S QUILL
My quill writes as my mind thinks
Words come into focus as it goes
Dictating ideas, thoughts, quotes
Expanding the scope of daily life
Experiences we've dealt nonstop
A shooting, crash, birth, war, death
A yo-yo effect that grips us all
Into a paradox scheme in writing
Embracing truth and compassion
My quill depicts the emotion of love
How it affects human nature relationships
The connection between family and loved ones
Interactions among people we barely know
Those we work every day at a busy place
Familiar faces on the bus transit or subway
My quill moves towards our Mother Nature
The beautiful and majestic sun and flowers
Celestial heavenly bodies and oceanic waters
Thunderous skies, pitter patter of raindrops
Hailstorms, winter snow pileups along the roads
Atmospheric deluge, tornadoes, earthquakes
My quill continues to extend to wildfires
Destroying acres of land, habitat sanctuaries
Creatures big and small go extinct, dying
Affecting our environment and ecosystem
Global warming is a real problem some say, a hoax
It is an essential element of our life, here on earth.
The power of my imagination can go furthermore
As my quill will never rest upon events, stories told
Being a poet, sharing, inspiring everyone to read our work.
© GLORIA MAGALLANES-LOEB
U.S.
******
MY PEN SPEAKS POETRY
My pen speaks poetry
Words of deep passion and feelings
Confessions and goals
It is an unburdening
Of my heart, mind and soul
To write out all my frustrations
Express the beauty I see everyday
My pen speaks poetry
In its own special way.
© DONNA McCABE
UK
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