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Tyler Matthew Jun 2020
one word
just one spark
one soul
just one race

remember

we built a tower up to heaven
reaching up and out to Him
curious to what’s beyond
united in our purpose then

one tongue
one mind
one hand
we climbed

the tower

and was it wrong to search the sky?
to know the angels, brush their wings?
was it wrong to meditate?
to equate ourselves to kings?

and when He deemed we rose too high
He brought the tower to the ground
colored flesh and broke our tongues
with a hard hand held us down

remember
the tower

and was it wrong to search the sky
with all those stars we looked upon?
to see the truths eluding us?
to know what heaven lies beyond?
The Lord said, “If as one people speaking the same language they have begun to do this, then nothing they plan to do will be impossible for them.  Come, let us go down and confuse their language so they will not understand each other.”
Amer Pelides May 2020
Years gone by without seeing myself,
Sheltered from the world like a babe,
The toils of life and the world covered,
Like a curtain covering the window to destiny,
When was it that I lost sight of who I am?
Was it never there or was I locked in?
The roaring blaze of fiery pain now seeks to be extinguished,
I desire to accomplish what I can in this unforgiving void.
To realise my ambition and vision as any man should,
Now I must free myself,
I am past hoping a friendly force to liberate me,
I shall now liberate myself,
To experience either glory or ruin.
By my own merits forever more.
Heather May 2020
For as long as I can remember I’ve been damaged
Sad eyes that only appear more beautiful with a glassy film of tears.

For as long as I can remember it’s been difficult for me to love or be loved.
I always feel so close to many but never truly connected to one

For as long as I can remember I’ve been disappointing
To myself who is never satisfied until I’m writhing in pain

But even then,  I’m breathless.
Something I found in my notebook.
Sourabh kotecha May 2020
Why would that beautiful winged bird run?
Unaware of its wings, or all its wisdom shun?

Could it not see the beautiful infinite sky?
Only crawl, walk and run, will it never fly?
Birds, small and big, in awe of its wings
Surprised, how happily it walks and sings
Its never too late to start, wiser birds say
'To move on ground is a child's play
God blessed you with wings to fly,
Running makes your dear ones shy.'

The bird never seemed to pay heed
Will tree never grow out of the seed?
Grounded the bird practised to live,
He couldn't fly, he was forced to believe
Inspiring thoughts and it did take an airy jump
Far from a flight, it was a little ****
Afraid to fall, the bird never flew
And slowly, was left out of its crew
When you fly, your wings are put to test
On ground, it could afford to rest

Were those wings to go in vain?
Or fooled, to quit the sky to choose plain?
Why would that beautiful winged bird run?
Being unaware, or all its wisdom shun?
We walked 500 kilometres,
We are not marathon runners,
We ran only for food and family.

The walk was long,
But our minds were strong,
Hunger came along.

Hunger put us to faint;
Public watched us like saint,
We were treated as a quaint.

The going got tough;
Our foot became rough,
We felt the tiring walk was enough.

Tears poured in our heart,
Disease ripped the whole world apart,
But humankind was selfish and smart.

Public and rulers slept,
We remained helpless and wept,
Banks disturbed us with debt.

Fishes in the sea cry,
The eaters put it to fry,
Our hunger cries were buried,
Towards our homes we hurried.

Frogs rested in the shadow of a snake,
Hunger tested us during this corona quake.

Corona turned a manhunt tiger,
Killed us with its sharp tooth of hunger,
Our hearts filled with demonic anger,
Hunger kept disturbing us longer.

Our corpses were a useless exhibition,
Media wolves framed our deaths a suicide,
We had no place to reside,
Train tracks became our new home inside.

Our hunger and pains remain unheard
Ruthless rulers find our sufferings awkward

Our hunger creates leaders and robbers,
Rulers filled our society with backstabbers,
We will emerge as leaders and food feeders,
The globe will become our followers and readers.

To all living beings we will feed,
To our future generations we will become a seed,
If hunger kills a human like a crop-killing ****,
Our hands will destroy the humanimals with greed.
Coronavirus had put the globe to a halt. Migrant laborers are the biggest victims who are battling corona and hunger together. Their voices are unheard. My poems always want to be a voice of the voiceless in the globe. Migrant labor population work for their family leading the worst life. But there was no helping hand for many migrant laborers. The house owners evacuated them and asked them to suddenly leave their homes. The migrant laborers have to make long walks towards their hometowns as they had no transportation, food or accommodation. The rulers in so-called developing countries like India left migrant laborers to walk long kilometers to reach their homes. No facility was properly made and the whole country stood silently to witness their sufferings, as they had to make a long tiring walk for around or more than 500 kilometres. Many of them could not battle their hunger and thirst.
Mohan Boone May 2020
tickling the rocks
dancing around woodworms
drinking tequila with dandelions
the floor is 
no place
for a young fern with ambition

beanstalk
said the big unfurling fern to the little unfurling fern
beanstalk all the way to the ozonosphere
if you endure
and you harvest the best sunbeams
and nitrogens
and you cheat at quizzes
you'll climb as high as that great rose
and you'll be happy and
strong
and powerful

but I am happy
said the little unfurling fern to the big unfurling fern
and I don't wish to be strong and powerful
and that great rose I've heard is a real
pig
and he doesn't share his Easter eggs
and he has no pride in his hedges
and he plays bad music really loud on
buses

this floor is the floor but it is
my world
and I like the woodworms
and the two leafed clovers who don't know their
androecium's from their
gynoecium's
and the dandelion - well
he drinks too much tequila but he has a 
strong heart
and if the world was on fire and everything was lost he'd share his
last
mini eggs
with all of us.

it is true - that I am small
but in my scrubby wisdom I know I know
that it is better
to stay down low
among cheap friends
and dance with ugly woodworms
and tell stories to bluebells
and play flute with the clovers
than it is
to grow tall
and handsome
and have only the spiteful rose for a friend
and have to listen
all day
to *******
Morrissey.

now there's a lad
said the big unfurling fern to the little unfurling fern
as the dandelion racked up the tequilas.
James May 2020
A life of serpentine-driven fate,
a flow of undulating winds,
is a life left in desuetude
ululating for a course more driven.
vanessa ann Apr 2020
what are you waiting for, little bird?
the day has just begun, there was an angel
at 5th street and she told me to say hi to you,
little bird. what’s your plan for today?

you cannot sit around and wait for a suitor to offer words of praise,
you must learn to sing your own.
you will not get a thousand retweets on that little bird app but you must
do, anyway. do, anyhow. do, do. i do.

i bear with me no key to help you flee
there will not be a kind knight to hear your plea

o little bird, remind me
of your plans of jailbreak last night, speak
to me, have you learned to bend metals with your beak?
will you set yourself free?
—release
The Foodie One Apr 2020
Such strange creatures
we are -
Flesh and Bones
and Pain - and Ambitions -

From inside Desire
urges Itself forward -
Traps and enslaves
every Will in its chains.
© 27/03/20
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