→True ☆ Poets← - Hello Poetry

Dec 2016

Pradip Chattopadhyay

Those marble plaques in the cemetery
hold no dead beneath them
yet in the rising mists of winter evenings
when night like loose dark pebbles
fall from the sky
can be heard hooves of trotting horses
from the rows of cold white stones
and on nights favored by moon
is visible cavalry in scarlet serge
with pith helmets and carbine rifles
piercing the terror paused wind
with cries of vengeance
mirthful in washing blood with blood
on the fields of Cawnpore
dissolving into marble white stones
steeped in the peace of moonlight.

Sepoy Mutiny (1857)
On 27 June, 1857 in the town of Cawnpore (now Kanpur), India, sepoy mutineers laid siege to a British army encampment reportedly massacring British women and children.
Two days later, a company of British soldiers captured the town and extracted bloodied revenge.
This work is inspired from the time many years ago when I used to spend the evening hours alone at a cemetery in Calcutta where stand the war memorials of the British soldiers killed in the mutiny.

Dec 2016

Denel Kessler

The Climate of Denial

tepid waters do not lie
gale is to cyclone
as rain to thundercloud
no amount of counter-spin
will make them anything other
than atmospheric unrest

El Niño, La Niña
how to read
the unsettled waters
upwelling from the deep
what should feed us
leaves us starving, weak

orcas encircle their kin
emaciated mother, tiny calf
dying from ocean’s lack
while we look on and moan
all the power to change
if we only cared to own it

In the Strait of Juan de Fuca (between Washington state and Vancouver Island, Canada) a resident female orca recently died from what scientists believe to be malnutrition and environmental toxins. Her young male calf likely died as well, he was too young to survive without a mother. The last aerial photos taken of the mother and calf show her emaciated, held afloat by family members. A heartbreaking sight.

On the heels of these deaths, there is increasing concern that this resident pod of orcas, numbering about 80 individuals, is declining to the point where it can’t recover.

#change #environment #denial #climate #orcawhales

Dec 2016

Tom Balch

The Spirit of Christmas

Co-Lab with Maggie Magnolia.

On a cold Christmas morn long years ago
lay a soft fresh dusting of pure white snow,
covering the trenches and no man’s land
turning signs of a war to a place so grand,
somehow this beauty affected all men
the cold winter silence broken and then,
a single voice singing O Silent Night
sung so beautifully putting things right.

Everyone joined in from every side
then Stille Nacht stopped all men in their stride,
and with every line the voices just grew
all men sang Schlaf in himmlicher ruh,
they laid down their arms and walked unafraid
meeting the enemy on this Christmas day,
showing their photos of loved ones back home
friendships were formed and a hate for war grown.

Each man and young boy were afraid on that day
but good actors they were, all their fears hid away,
grasping that moment of peace in their hands
they thought of their loved ones and dared to make plans,
alas all was lost as new shots reigned clear
in place of their hopes was a fresh feeling of fear,
nothing has changed as we march forward to war
this Christmas we ask: What was it all for?

On this cold Christmas morn stood in the snow
are millions of crosses row after row,
each bearing a number, unit and name
reminding us all that war´s not just a game,
and yet they played football in no man’s land
forgetting for a moment wars evil plan,
the spirit of Christmas had won over the day
the soldiers became friends to the generals dismay.

Dec 2016

Sethnicity

Bajanga

B-lankets and pillows never felt better
              no matter what surface wearing you + me sweaters
A-ll night under street lights after working so hard
           comfort squeezed tight between red and white cars
J-umping from tree trunks to bounce on my balcony
             or tripping through doorways lamenting your exiting
A-bsolving my Queen of hearts choking in barren land
           between seats, belts, and borders holding your hand
N-estled in bed two children and Halo on your head
              lips of flames lost and found ignoring what was said
G-iving Forgiveness for Arrhythmia of Heart
            remembering the beginning  going back to the start
A-ccepting that no matter how far apart
           We are the creators of each others art.

Bajanga: A myriad of objects or interchangeable adjective...

In this piece, Bajanga: A Punch-Drunk Love.

Until the very end of Me.
Until the very end of You

#starcrossed #punchdrunk #bajanga

Dec 2016

Ananye Krishna

A Lament

Such concentration on the face 
Such emphasis on trash 
Takes a lot of effort
 For parties both sitting and standing

Hard it must be 
To maintain this state 
Training it would have taken 
To become so lame

Lives might have been lost 
Rainbows might have faded  
Stars might have imploded  
Hearing a dirge in every word that came

Will this ever end 
This drone bent on drowning

Dec 2016

mikecccc

doesn't it

things do blur together
don't they
after a while
it all looks grey
it all sounds like static
and it all feels
like madness
kinda scratchy
headache inducing
it isn't I think
a myriad rainbow of woe
but after a while it all
just feels the same.

Dec 2016

ThePoet

• Time •

I'm running out of time
and the clock is ticking fast
But I'm trying to erase
all the damage in my past

I'm running out of time
and these minutes never last
But the darkness that I face
is the shadow that I cast

©