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 Apr 2021
Valsa George
I had fallen in love with her at first sight
a six year old with eyes
moist with dewy tears
she stood among the other whining kids,
picked up from the compost heaps of life
her slight brown hair was tied
at the back into a ponytail.

in her torn pink frock and delicate frame,
she looked a fading rose.
on her face was the pain of desertion
with no Dad or Mom to kiss away the tears
or hold her close to the heart

the building with its cracked walls
had an aura of ruin about it.
everything, so shabby and stinking
and it was there that I met her

but among the many, locked up like caged birds
why did I single her out?
may be her cute look and seraphic innocence
made her so special!
even after I had left that place,
my thoughts kept returning to her
and I decided on making her happy somehow

the second time I went there,
i carried some knick knacks
and some sweets for the children to munch
also a parcel colorfully wrapped and tied with a ribbon
when I called her aloof
and handed that small gift,
i watched the twinkle in her little eyes

as she opened it with fumbling hands
curiosity peeked on her face and eyes
finally, when I took out the glossy frilled frock
she squealed in delight and clapped her hands.
saw her face aglow with excitement and joy.

into her bleak world I let out a flash of delight!
A personal experience.... the memory of which I still cherish.
 Apr 2021
Carlo C Gomez
~
Silver water
flowing out from under
moon-less-ness

Beautiful daughter of the stars
dancing in eclipse, remembering
the season of the sun

And how her
calculating love survived
its long hibernation

~
 Apr 2021
Glenn Currier
My heart keeps floating east
to the place of my birth
along the brown rushing waters
of the awesome Mississippi
the vast Atchafalaya basin
where the boys  
of fishermen and hunters
become men.
Oaks drip with moss
cypress trees grow out of swamps
and exude a mystic charm
that pierces your mood
and captures your fancy.
La Nouvelle-Orleans
born in centuries past
gateway to a new life
for my forefathers
who crossed oceans from France
made families for the generations
and planted their culture
amidst the rich foliage
and damp environs
of this magnificent mysterious place.
Yes, I yearn to cross the Sabine
make my way to Breaux Bridge
and other Evangeline towns
eat crawfish etoufee
by the Bayou Teche
speak my Texanized accent
to my Cajun cousins
who tell their stories
with a hint of French
and laugh in a universal language.
Soon I hope to make the trek
to quinch the yearning of my heart
hug my cousins
breathe the poem of my life
and the moist fragrant Louisiana air.
I bow to my friend here Jamadhi Verse with gratitude for his poem, Tri-state Trinity," that inspired this one.
 Apr 2021
Eshwara Prasad
The tired twig broke.
A lone Leaf went into a free fall.
It softly landed on the ant hole.
A bustling empire descended into permanent darkness.
 Apr 2021
kayla morrison
Wing tipped tongues
Utter madness as their wings fly away.
It's art. Like a trash bag floating down an empty street.
Empty words float and circulate the masses.

Consumables.
We eat media, satisfied by garbage.
Wiping the latest episode of Tiger King off our chins,
We chomp on clickbait desserts.

The writers, thinkers, and philosophizers
starve.

Searching for anything with substance
they revisit old watering holes.
The marrow has been ****** from literature,
The cave is too real to re-enter,

But there is a rumble from within.

Weak but present.
The uprising is upon us!
Writers, Thinkers, and Philosophizers, rise!

Rise and pluck the birds from the sky,
steal their wings and soar.
Soar across time and spread the wisdom that has been bestowed upon you.
There are more faults
than the San Andreas
but it doesn't pay us
to mention them,

Pride comes before pricy
in the dictionary,
ha
can you picture me
searching through the dictionary
looking for this?

One must take pride
and make of pride
a
part in everything
we do

I try to,
sometimes I fail.
 Mar 2021
jordan
this daily death
and nightly rebirth
these swelling buds
and falling leaves
this piling snow
and torrential flow

this in- and ex- halation

this building warmth
and inertia of cold
this body grows
and then it grows old
this rhythm of life
and imminent death

pervades everything i see
so, could it be
that, perhaps, this rhythm is me
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