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A step is all it takes
To brush past the winds obstructing your path
Igniting the spark that fuels their rye and cries
Pressure holds, suffocating as tears steam past
Shaky breaths collide in grit and defiance
Aching to be set free, an ache numbed in wait

Ears turned deaf to the ever persistent screams
Eyes glazed past the blood and sweat;agony
Brain broken down in collateral to forget
Begging release, hands turned in unison to hope
For a reason, a chance, a promise
Chained to the stake; a fool's dance was all it was.
Pessimistic to the core I know
He saw

Her wings lay torn upon the ground
Her screams muffled; cries scorching her throat
As they tore at her skin
Shattering the stars in her youthful eyes
As she watched; dulled and empty

                                                          ­       He knew

As her hand fell flat; uncurled
Her mouth, a stretched echo of her suffering
Marred colours of reds and blues charring her soul and body
With a single tear leaping from her ghosting eyes

                                                           ­                                                                    He rose

With the final gasp shifting dust above her cracked lips
The thud of her limp body thrown against rotting carcases
And the darkening sky shedding tears in anguish


He cradled her to his chest; numbing and warm
A finger pulled down the lids of her unsee in eyes
Whispering you're safe now Zainab
I've come to take you home
In memory of Zainab and others who faced the same cruel fate as her
 Jan 2018
Mike Adam
On those days

(Rare of late)

When a surge of joy

Flows through the veins,

Enjoy the gratitude
Due to life
 Jan 2018
Cristina
in the night between the years
a shy voice can be heard:
dear two thousand eighteen,
please be kind!.
 Jan 2018
Valsa George
Realizing a fresh life growing inside,
What thoughts coursed through my mother’s mind?
Did she gleefully welcome the news?
Or respond to it with a violent shock?

So sure, right away after her fourth baby
With four little kids still needing care
Like chicks in a coop, carrying once again
Might not have been in her scheme of things

Thus at a time when she expected it the least,
Could she beckon the new life growing inside,
With a pleasant nod of head in assent
Or with a suppressed moan of fright, I wonder!

When from nausea she started to suffer
And threw up each time when she ate
Did she curse her man in silence?
Or grow mad with her children and her fate?

Slogging through those weary days
With no respite from her routine chores
Did she get enough rest or care?
Or did she languish without a hand to assist?

Seeing her with an extended waist line
Did some nosy neighbors behind her back
Teasingly utter in hushed whispers
‘Oh, she has done it again!’

Once when I started kicking inside
Was she tickled or greatly annoyed?
When she heard the first ‘lub- dub’ of my heart
Did she feel as two hearts singing in harmony?

As her tummy grew bigger everyday
And sleepless in bed as she tossed
Was she haunted by nightmares bleak?
Or was she visited by dreams of delight?

Travelling closer and closer to those final days
Did she curse herself seeing her in the mirror
Woefully bloated and ripened into a bulge
Or did she wait my arrival in blissful expectation?

Then suddenly one day when the earthquake began
In mild tremors first, then gaining in force
Did she scream mad or cry aloud?
Or did she endure the pain in austere silence?

Then abruptly when I showed myself up
Did she feel any remorse over my ***?
And see me as another liability
Added up to the girls already in line

No, I am sure she must have cuddled me close
And locked me in the warmth of her *****
For she was such a rare gift sent from heaven
A mother nonpareil in self effacing love
This poem, I thought would be interesting to many of you to have an idea of the cultural difference from country to country and to show how life was in the fifties and sixties for an average woman living in an Indian village

Being wife and mother, life was hardly easy for any woman in a patriarchal set up during those days. Child bearing was a routine affair and taking care of the children with none to help was her lot. Men who were the sole bread winners would be away at their place of work…! Even if at home, they hardly lend a helping hand. Girls were always marginalized and looked upon as a liability as they could be sent away in marriage only by giving huge amounts as dowry! Now things have changed and most of the women are employed and earning members!

  March 8th- when we celebrate the International Woman’s Day, I dedicate this poem to my dear mother whom I regard as a great woman and a paragon of love and care.
 Jan 2018
James Floss
The space between expectations
And real-world realizations
Pinning hope upon a star

So far

Desire sires hope
Hope molds chance
But then circumstance

Twisted dance

Legislative ping-pong
An absurd, wrong, sing-song
Maintain a sense of self

Them, not you

Be the best you can
Rely on those you love
Have a back door plan

This land is your land,

Too…
 Jan 2018
Mike Adam
Why should not
A  man

Experience

Briney beauty

Of emotional
Release
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