A LOVE FORETOLD
We met each other for a reason
The myth was one foretold before we ever spoke
From the beginning our hearts were so close
Our thoughts often the same without even talking
Our hearts together beat in perfect rhythm
as we both rested in each other's arms..
A most beautiful and perfect dream together
I know at times our dreams could not find each other
in the sharp brokenness that we both have lived through
But our hearts together are like a shrine in a temple
We both religiously worship in each other's love
Nothing can ever tear it down; it is too strong
God will surely bless such a love as ours...
SORRY BABY, I WIN
One look at his face and into his eyes
I was hooked at that point but he wasn't surprised.
Six foot six, with long wavy hair, women fell at his feet
but he didn't care.
"Too Easy" he says, with that sweet evil grin
At that moment I thought, I should run far from him.
But my heart was curious, it knew no bounds,
So I decided that I would just stick around.
I'm glad I did because there was much more
than this strong attraction that went straight to my core.
"I'm not a nice guy" he told me quite sharp,
but I knew there was goodness in this bad boy's heart.
The love for him I had was quite real,
it was far more than just lust or his strong sex appeal.
He made me laugh and Wow!... what a smile,
so I stayed around if even just for a while.
Since that day, the tables have turned,
For me his heart melted, it passionately burned.
He thought he was immune to any emotion
No love in his heart, no speck of devotion.
Little did he know he'd have no control
against this tough but loving woman's grasp on his soul.
Now it's me who possesses his sweet, evil grin,
"Love Conquers All, Sorry Baby, I win".
Longing for My Place in This World
I thought I knew where my place was in this world long ago
But I find my purpose changes like the beautiful seasons,
and I gladly change with each season in my life.
I never was impressed by riches or fame, even though I have had them
I have also been poor in money but my riches were in my life lessons.
The only thing I ever wanted, was a stable home with children.
I got my beautiful children, but a stable home was never meant for me when I was younger. But... It kept me moving and it taught me so much. There was nothing I could not get through because of doing everything in life the hard way.
It took a long time for me to see the purpose of that.
I never look at a hard time as something bad, but another lesson learned in my life.
Now, in the latter part of my life, I know where my place is. It is everywhere.
It is wherever God places me at any given day. That is where I belong.
If someone needs me, God will place me there. I have been all over the world without leaving my home. I have learned from people who I have never met. I have loved children who aren't mine. I have empathy and I am so grateful for every person I have in my life. I love so many cultures and watch in wonder at their lives.
And I am so glad that God has shown me that my place is not one place or for one purpose, but in many places and for many reasons, and it is exciting!
And, I am truly thankful that he uses me everyday in a different place in this world. I love my life!
Escaping Reality
In my secret world that only I can see..
the trees and grass are always green, if only this could be.
I'd never have a worry about memories of pain..
only golden days of happiness and joy that pours like rain.
I've lived so much reality I often have to hide
within my world of make believe to mask the pain inside.
Where fairies, knights and princesses become the real thing.
They take me to a magical place where I can laugh and sing.
Please take me from this darkness from where I've seen such things
as blackened hand prints on my skin and painful tears that sting.
Though all of them have disappeared now from the naked eye,
the scares they left upon my soul have killed the joy inside.
So once again I travel back to my peaceful, secret place
to escape the cold and violence that I lived outside its space.
Kristy Raines was born in Oakland California, USA and is a poet, writer, author and humanitarian/activist.
She has five books getting ready to publish soon, one with a prominent Poet from India which will launch hopefully soon called, "I Cross my Heart from East to West", two fantasy books of her own called, "Rings, Thins and Butterfly Wings" and "Princess and The Lion", and an anthology of poems in English," Walking Without You, one in French, "Little Rose Poetry", one in Arabic called," Jasmine and Roses". She is taking a course in Arabic to write this book. Kristy has received many literary awards for her unique style of writing.
From southwestern Michigan, Jerry Langdon has lived in Germany since the early 90’s. He is an Artist and Poet. His works bathe in a darker side of emotion and fantasy. He has released five books of Poetry titled “Temperate Darkness an Behind the Twilight Veil”, “Death and other cold things” “Rollercoaster Heart” and “Frosted Dreams” Jerry is also the editor and publisher of the literary magazine Raven Cage Zine poetry and prose. His poetic inspirations are derived from poets such as Edgar Allen Poe, Robert Frost and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. As well as from various rock bands. His apparently twisted mind, twists and intertwines fantasy with reality.
The Passage of Time
Long vanished the ancient cold,
The song of the wolves, distant
Howling through the downy flakes
Drifting o’er rooftops and curling
From chimneys grown cold.
Time glows like a banked fire
Against the cold of eons past
Aching bones of lost love
Waiting in time to dance again.
Wilted the love posies given
By wooers besotted and forlorn
In the heydays of their passion
Never to hear sweet promises
Polished, refurbished and stored
In the heart-shaped boxes of time
Or wear the locks of hair in lockets
Of long dead lovers, sworn
To vows impossible to keep
Past the eons of their courtship.
Old are the dreams, forgotten
The glory of laughter and youth
To be lived as the wind whispers
Beneath the waves of thunder,
Grumbles into the caves of love,
Absorbed by the echoing walls.
Longing dies but lives in memories
Bursting forth in the glory of sunsets,
Waking on the sunbeams of morning,
And sleeping in the dust, tracked
Through the temples of timeless love.
Sacred Freedom
It’s the soul that is touched by space and time
And the heart that breaks to poignant rhyme.
A King can feel like a prisoner within his castle halls,
While the soul of the dungeon inmate soars beyond his walls.
Circumstance is what you make of your surroundings
A castle can be a fortress wherein fancy sings
Or a prison where only despair is given wings.
Each step is sacred that you walk in a free land
Thank God for freedom to choose where you stand.
Christmas Sonnet
This, our first Christmas, brings me such delights!
You are all the gifts I ever dreamed of;
Every Christmas tree trimmed with sparkling lights;
Every star on top symbolizing love.
You're every kiss beneath the mistletoe;
Every turkey, yeast roll and candied yam;
The angels I made lying in the snow;
You're my gingerbread man, my honeyed ham!
You’re every Christmas Carol I have sung;
You’re reindeer, Santa Claus and candlelight;
All the stockings filled I carefully hung;
You’re the sleigh bells imagined on Christmas Night.
You’re the glowing fireplace on Christmas Eve -
All the cookies and milk I used to leave.
Sacred Silhouette
Yours is the sacred silhouette outlined
Between me and the LIGHT of Creation –
The deep voice of love from outer space
Reaching me from the corridors of time;
The pulsating heart of constancy
Beating for me in echoing waves
Of unforgettable love, caught
In the beauty of thought and desire
To hold the night in each other's arms.
Your love touches every cell of my being.
You are the glow in the mist of morning;
The chirping cricket on the threshold
Of love’s open doorway to paradise.
You are evening’s quiet reverie
Enhancing my belief in a loving God.
You are the quiet breath of falling dew;
The glow of lilies in the moonlight.
You are a thousand fireflies lit by my desire
To know the tenderness of your ways.
You’re the taste of moonlight on my skin;
My silent steps on the path of yearning
As I walk in the sacred shadow of stars
Seeking your soul in love’s rocking cradle
Suspended from the limb of infinity.
Annie Johnson is 84 years old. She is Shawnee Native American. She has published two, six hundred-page novels and six books of poetry. Annie has won several poetry awards from world poetry organizations including; World Union of Poets; she is a member of World Nations Writers Union; has received the World Institute for Peace award; the World Laureate of Literature from World Nations Writers Union and The William Shakespeare Poetry Award. She received a Certificate and Medal in recognition of the highest literature from International Literary Union for the year 2020, from Ayad Al Baldawi, President of the International Literary Union. She has three children, two grandchildren, and two sons-in-law. Annie played a flute in the Butler University Symphony. She still plays her flute.
Yet twinkling lights were seen flying near and free
Fireflies are so gentle to keep you company
Don’t be afraid, you’re never alone even in the dark
Don’t be afraid though your eyes seem blind
Don’t be afraid though you feel lost and cold
Don’t be afraid of being alone in the dark
You are never alone, just wait and believe
Don’t be afraid, you are protected. Don’t you see?
Lilian Dipasupil Kunimasa was born January 14, 1965, in Manila, Philippines. She has worked as a retired Language Instructor, interpreter, caregiver, secretary, product promotion employee, and private therapeutic masseur. Her works have been published as poems and short story anthologies in several language translations for e-magazines, monthly magazines, and books; poems for cause anthologies in a Zimbabwean newspaper; a feature article in a Philippine newspaper; and had her works posted on different poetry web and blog sites. She has been writing poems since childhood but started on Facebook only in 2014. For her, Poetry is life and life is poetry.
Lilian Kunimasa considers herself a student/teacher with the duty to learn, inspire, guide, and motivate others to contribute to changing what is seen as normal into a better world than when she steps into it. She has always considered life as an endless journey, searching for new goals, and challenges and how she can in small ways make a difference in every path she takes. She sees humanity as one family where each one must support the other and considers poets as a voice for truth in pursuit of equality and proper stewardship of nature despite the hindrances of distorted information and traditions.
They are dishonoured who snatch away the Sleep from innocent people
By envy and egoism of Bayonets,
Who bereave others others from their rights Under the knee of their dirty power,
Who made helpless mortally every corner of
Beloved land.
Until now salty blood smell of thirty lakhs
Bengali floating on air.
Lanes and by lanes, killing fields stand on eyes
With crying of grave silence
Repainting with blessings of memorial.
Across the world holy child of bestial sperm,
Blooming war child carries tearless lament of
Desolate Heroine. Think of,
WHO knows the gruesomeness of war than us!
So, we don’t want war but peace in the globe.
Avoiding starvation with sufferings from the Debris of burnt peace house
Today we are fifty two years old.
In this 52nd Victory Day of Bangladesh, at this Assemblage I am a petty representative
Who am sending peace message to you all
Of the world, a letter with red alphabet and Green envelop of friendship is being delivered To every home of world village.
Today,16 December, in our Victory Day, I wish
A leader of pure soul to come back with calling
Of magical voice of generous life like Mujib in
The persecuted land of earth.
Wishing them to wake up of wounded and Moribund lives for fighting of Independence.
Wishing them to sing a song of freedom.
One day, the earth will give shiver with pandemic of peace.
Aklima Ankhi is a poet, storyteller and translator from Cox’sbazar, Bangladesh. Born in Mymensingh, Bangladesh. She has a published poetry named “Guptokothar Shobdochabi” written in Bangla. She is a post graduate in English Literature. As a profession she is a Lecturer in English.
The Victory Day
16th December is the Victory day of Bangladesh
After a long line of death in nine months ---
Severe torture, rape and struggle in the deep dark place
The Morning Sun rose in the East sky
On this day of 1971
Bangladesh, a name written with the blood of millions of Bangalee people
A name glorious with its own beauty and struggle
We have bought this country with so many lives
When I go through this history
I can't but cry
Oh, my country! We have found you in the map of the world
Where I live and find myself to be one the world's citizens
Oh, my Bangladesh! I love you from the core of my heart.
Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh,
11 December, 2023
Md. Mahbubul Alam is from Bangladesh. His writer name is Mahbub John in Bangladesh. He is a Senior Teacher (English) of Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh. Chapainawabganj is a district town of Bangladesh. He is an MA in English Literature from Rajshahi College under National University. He has published three books of poems in Bangla.
He writes mainly poems but other branches of literature such as prose, article, essay etc. also have been published in national and local newspapers, magazines, little magazines. He has achieved three times Best Teacher Certificate and Crest in National Education Week in the District Wise Competition in Chapainawabganj District. He has gained many literary awards from home and abroad. His English writings have been being published in an International Online Magazine - Synchronized Chaos from America for seven years.
Trees
In forests deep, where nature thrives,
Stands a marvel that keeps our planet alive.
Majestic sentinels, rooted in the ground,
Trees, the guardians, spreading beauty all around.
With limbs outstretched, they reach for the sky,
Whispering secrets as the wind passes by.
Their emerald crowns, adorned with leaves,
Creating canopies where sunlight weaves.
Oh, mighty oaks with trunks so stout,
Centuries old, steadfast without a doubt.
Birch trees, elegant and slender in form,
Dancing softly in a gentle summer storm.
Maples blaze with colors ablaze,
Enchanting autumn with their fiery ways.
Silent witnesses to the changing seasons,
As winter takes hold, they endure with reason.
Beneath their boughs, life finds haven,
A symphony of creatures, from rabbit to raven.
Squirrels chase and play on their sturdy limbs,
Birds nestle and sing their melodious hymns.
Don Bormon is a student of grade 8 in Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh.
