October 3

October 3

Something is changed
In the Spring’s air
I feel the smell of
Cold waters…

Copyright © Dario de Giacomo


The thing with Writerly Insomnia

The thing with Writerly Insomnia

I hail from lands that might seem strange to you my dear
So I have many things to tell you
But I waste much time in trying to make the story short
and encoding it in the language you understand
Sometimes I get lost in poetic mazes of my own making

As for my bloodshot eyes
it’s just a “thing” that comes with writerly insomnia

But you see
the “thing” with writerly insomnia is life threatening:
I have been staring at blank pages for hours
the ink I put, wont it only yield blotted pages?

Keep The Faith!

Keep The Faith!

When the sun is down,
When there is darkness all around,
When everything seems to fade,
Just walk my friend & keep the faith!

It’s not an easy thing to do,
As it would take a lot of courage from you
While quitting may seem the only solution;
All your hopes & dreams may seem delusional,
There would still be light down the road,
Tomorrow my friend will bring new hope!

It will last longer if you make it so
To cut it short you just have to grow!
There are still undiscovered paths,
Awaiting your walk
A bag full of challenges,
Knocking at your door
You choose to hang on or to let go!

Whatever you choose it gotta be your best;
Because at the end you’re answerable only to yourself!
So don’t let it get the better of you,
Work hard and just stay true!

Times will change and so would you
But its all in the process of becoming YOU!

Copyright © Shweta Vaghela

Disclaimer: The image used herein is in the public domain and taken from the Internet. Due appreciation and credit is acknowledged for the same.


My Lover Turns Into A Witch At Night

My Lover Turns Into A Witch At Night

By Oppong Clifford Benjamin
I was as sure as faith and dance
as darkness and its absence
and as heaven and humans-
I had no doubt that God was here
And that God was there too;
In sins, He was here and
in the holiest of holies, He was there.
It was a dark room under a dark rainy sky
with the stars hidden behind frowning clouds
The air carried everything including our doubts
on its carelessly chaotic cold paths to nowhere
It was the sound of percussion instrument playing
Playing soft hymns to the atmosphere unseen
On the floor, seated we were:
Legs crossed. Right on left leg
right palm in left.
A black candle burned its wax away
to illuminate our dark life someways
Kiky had mastered her craft.
She was in a black cassock
She looked ahead of my head
And closed her eyes again softly.
She didn’t want to breathe
She didn’t want to call my name
I watched her dance to the heavens;
Head bent to the feet,
Her hips curved around the dark,
Hands thrown to the near west
Heartbeats in accordance with every bit
of nature. It was with the rains on the roof.
I watched her turn into air and
back to a shadow on the wall
I watched her move back and forth
between the present world and trance
She danced her glory off,
She divined our future
And I looked on with anxious surprise.
And my lover finally became everything
I couldn’t have been,
everything I had only dreamt of;
The room walls
The moment
The air
The candle
The dark
And God
And Kiky was God
And God was Kiky
And God was us.
She opened her eyes abruptly and
spoke to the silence and it broke
As above so below, she said and smiled.

By Kweku Atta Crayon ( Oppong Clifford Benjamin)

[avatar user=”Oppong Clifford Benjamin” size=”100″ /]

Copyright © Oppong Clifford Benjamin
Written By: Oppong Clifford Benjamin

Oppong Clifford Benjamin on facebook

Oppong Clifford Benjamin is Founder President at Builders of the African Dream. To know more, the link for the same is https://www.facebook.com/BuildersofAfricaDream

Disclaimer: The picture used herein is submitted by the author and taken from the Internet. Due appreciation and credit is acknowledged for the same.

Beyond a distant Horizon

Beyond a distant Horizon

[Written for Z]

The sun is risen above the summit of a mountain- a Dwala-
Beaming, chasing darkness away;
Rejuvenating the veld as the dew shimmers,
Pasture assumes its deep brown lustre
As if trying to blend with the golden sun’s rays;
The Dwala – where it had momentarily perched-
Has slowly set it free for its westerly journey

My Tropical Savannah is a beauty:
Deep brown pasture in summer, clustered bushes and umbrella trees
Irregular footpaths run across its plains,
I assume one of them leads to you,
But as I trace them, they shy away at a distant horizon,
As if the sky is eating them up
The sun brings a light breeze mid-flight,
It blows softly on my quill,
Making a melody with the fur;
Whistling a song on the brim of my inkwell

On one footpath, I spot two love birds coming from the well,
The damsel is balancing an earthen calabash on her head;
My lips crease into a marvel-smile at their chatter and carefree laughter
I am surprised at myself for sharing their moment of bliss,
But then, it is always easy to share happiness.

Bliss is…abstract,
As the beauty and radiance of our sun

But the burden of sadness is…concrete,
Something I can share with you,
Only after I trace these footpaths beyond the horizon

The dying sun perches on a faraway ridge like an alter offering
Its deep brown rays permeate the foliage.
By and by, colours fade away with darkness.

The veld now looks old and beaten, almost gothic,
The sun is gone, leaving a trace of a blue-brown spectrum;
I hope it has come to you my dear,
With the same happiness it brings me

Darkness sets in.

Though my sentiments are hurt at the thought of having to close my inkwell,
I love the sweet calmness reigning in harmony with the sound of nocturnals,
Besides, seeing another beautiful sunrise is enough consolation.

[show_avatar email=536 user_link=authorpage avatar_size=100]

Copyright © Victor Gordon

Victor Gordon Musara (Vic Tor Jacob) is on facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/vic.tor.1213986

Disclaimer: The images used herein are taken from the Internet and submitted by the author. Due appreciation and credit is acknowledged for the same.

What Is In My Karma, I Do Not Know/ Karam-dharam/ Your Karma-dharma

What Is In My Karma, I Do Not Know/ Karam-dharam/ Your Karma-dharma

hey say it
Your karma is your dharma,
Your dharma your karma,
The fruit of your action,
That you have done,
But know I not,
What have I
Where lies it
My pitfall,
My wrong action?

O, where
Have I erred,
Where have I fallen,
My temptation
And the sin committed
In its name,
My lust
And trap of fallibility,
O, where
Have I erred
And fallen?

You show me,
Show me
The path of judgement,
Good action,
That I may,
May correct,
To the line,
Show me, show mew
The path leading unto.

My sin
I have unknowingly,
My sin
I do not
Which I committed,
My vice,
Which but
I know it not.

And for what
Am I bearing,
Am I suffering,
My karma
My dharma,
My dharma
My karma,
My property,
The result of
My action,
Good action,
Bad action.

My karma my dharma,
My karma dharma,
What it is
In my lot,
I shall have to get
What it is
In my lot,
My fate or destiny
I shall have to
That I know
Whether you
Accept it or not.

Your karma is
Your dharma,
Your dharma
Your karma,
In your karma
Which you have,
The action which
You have
For which
You will have to reap,
The consequences
What in stock.

[avatar user=”Bijay Kant Dubey” size=”100″ /]

Copyright © Bijay Kant Dubey

Bijay Kant Dubey on facebook

Disclaimer: The image used herein is in the public domain and taken from the Internet. Due appreciation and credit is acknowledged for the same.


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