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 Aug 2018 Seema
Edmund black
Standing here looking
Into the blue sky
Reminiscing about my childhood years
Teardrops on my cheeks
I would trade everything
To live it once more
I was the son of a mother
Who was bellow the poverty line
Father was a rolling stone
was nowhere to be found
But
The strangest thing is
I don’t remember being poor
I didn’t know a beans and cornbread
dinner was because we didn’t have money
And that my mom roasted peanuts
in the oven and cinnamon toast
was because we couldn’t afford
more expensive options
I only knew that they were delicious
and that my mom provided
and
was diligent with what she brought home
I remember my mom worked so hard to make things special
She made our birthday cakes and the Christmas
she pinched every penny to buy our toys and clothes
She would bring comfort where
there is hurt and unforeseen pain
She is what others view
as what’s right in this world
She is a breath of fresh air
Being poor didn’t stopped us from enjoying our-youths
Because love kept us
and gratitude
Turned little
into everything
Mother you’re the light of my world. The closest to perfection I’ve experienced in life........ A Mother!
In Solidarity
Limited , Not by Limitations
Confined , Not by Conformity
 Aug 2018 Seema
Logan Robertson
Twas the night before
Hawaii islands on the radar
A monster opened the door
It shoulders a storied scar

Of the last time, it hit its mark
Rearing its ugly head, ahead of pace
As the eye looms '82 in the dark
Wrinkles on this  eve sit sadly in boldface

Kauai sat once in unnatured infamy
It sunny shores hit once by the beast
Clouds of villains played in that symphony
With the next generation looking to feast

As the residence brace for the worst
Of the monster stepping on its paradise
With category four winds and cloudburst
The hope is that the monster plays nice

With the Aloha Spirit preserved with leis
In place of bold headlines of strung wrath
Hawaii can pray rays of light in the coming days
Willing the monster to take a different path

Logan Robertson

8/23/2018
This honor catches me by surprise, so much that I can't wait for the next dawn, sunrise, and all the days that follow. Thank you. Thank you for all the well wishes and support. It means looking at the sunrise, a new dawn, with newfound exuberance and eagerness.

To my friends and relatives on Oahu, I pray. Update-monster played nice. Outstanding was its piano play. Storm went from a 5,4,3,2,1 ... miss. With the Aloha Spirit preserved with leis
In place of bold headlines of strung wrath. Thank you.
 Aug 2018 Seema
Aslam M
The Dots.
 Aug 2018 Seema
Aslam M
Keep on Joining them.
Some Here ...
Some There ...
Everywhere...
 Aug 2018 Seema
Ivan Brooks Sr
We are all here today
Courtesy of yesterday.
So fear not tomorrow,
It's a gift from God to borrow.

Take a look at everything,
Do you miss anything?
Everything, everyone here today,
Began their journies yesterday.
  
Fear not what tomorrow brings,
It could be some good or bad things.
Things allowed by yesterday
Just to manifest themselves today.

Yesterday is the same as today,
It's just a day that has passed away.
Though it takes a part of us with it,
Tomorrow is what we all await.

©IvanBrooksPoetry
21/8/2018
Fear not yesterday, its a broken arrow.
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