BE YOUR MATE

I know right now!
your thoughts are fully opaque.
You want to give your life a retake.
Because this world is acting like a snake.
Your mind is under a terrible quake.
And soul is suffering from an untold ache.

Ohh Pretty!
It's time to take a decision for your own sake.
Firstly, take a short social media break.
Rise early and bake a cake.
Go to a park or lake.
Just listen the chirping birds and eat that cake.
Write a poem and don't be fake.
Give yourself some space and accept your mistakes.
Be you and don't follow others like copy paste.

Sit on a fresh grass and put aside your hate.
Pray to GOD and count blessings of your fate.
It's hard but have patience and just wait.

You are doing well, so don't underestimate.
Take a deep breath and enjoy your present state.
Instead of becoming your own slave, be your own good mate. Believe me!
You will feel better after this mini escape.

This day is in you ... 💫

The future never comes back
Today is your future
The past is the past
Today is your chance

Today don't say tomorrow
Tomorrow's bread has arrived today.
Who has the past left behind?
Faith is in you today

It's not far, it's close
How long is your time?
Put your will into it
The future is yours today



Fayzullayeva Sevara ( Uzbekistan)

SOBRIETY

position to the east with bowed knees
touch the earth with your forehead
repeatedly, count your beads, mumble
prayers to the wailing walls, search
through the holy text & make pleas

go to the gate called "beautiful" 
and you'd find there a woman
read her her sentence to the
wide congregation from afar
but are there afoot for the
water and wine

for signs and wonders
for 5 loaves & 2 fishes
for the miracle that raised
the lame fisherman from
his court of penury
for the woman with
the issue of blood
and for the woman
stoned to death, that
her scream was stuck
in the passage of her throat

her body is sanctified, sacred and
worthy of the faith evident in her heart
flooded with pure charity of
un-forgetfulness with 
supplication in deeds
always with
gratitude


****


Give Thyself Grace

midnight hallowing from the pages 
of my poems like a cat meowing for
cuddling from the arms of its Lover

I don't let my eyes fall asleep for the
time to stay up awake and witness
the birthing of a brand new Order

that day is now — for I believe and
hear the howl of the wind tender her
soft whisper to my ears, of windy tales

blowing my mind with surprises of the
moment as envisioned in my heart
in my mind, and soul — I pay attention

unrelentingly I pay heed not to the 
unheard-of but to the negligence of
my destroyed identity haunting each
footprint I demonstrate my words upon

I am not that tall black, silver fox man in
those jeans, polo t-shirt, drenched in
Versace Eros at the other table for two
waiting upon the arrival of his date

I am not what you perceived. Nor the 
abstract imaginings you've painted 
on this empty canvas...

I am simply a holy-preying fugitive
on the run with a stolen identity —
running away from the captors 
hiding behind another man's
dogma

torching my way unto his form
of eternity with his 
myth

give thyself grace
oh thou bunch of
derelict bag of
honour

****


Uchechukwu Onyedikam
Lagos, Nigeria

Not Alone With You

It's raining.
I am standing on the threshold
Of my little studio apartment.
I am lonely here without you.
I was never lonely with you.
Even though you didn’t love me. 
I knew that and fell just the same.
Rules were set.
I could not say it 
Not even alone with you. 
That didn’t stop me.
I was not alone with you.

You told me the end was coming,
Time for me to move on.
I still loved you.
I was not alone with you.
I knew one day you would kiss me
And close the door.

One early afternoon the door was quietly shut
I was still shrouded in the glamour
Of my love for you. 
There is a difference in knowing 
the candle would gutter and go out
And believing it will.

December 25th: The Date

December 25th is the Christmas Date;
the reason I can’t afford to wait
the opportunity where I can meet my age-long mate
the entrance to the celebration is through the Christmas Gate;
‘’Merry Christmas’’ is the pass to enter
The businesses of the day anticipate some modest sales rate
The  period in time where I look forward to my marriage to my long-time friend, Kate

That’s indeed December 25th : The Date
(D-A-T-E: Defined Attainment (of) Time Embraced)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------
no one ever promised
 
endless days
of rain and
fog
 
just pure
fucking misery
as my arthritis
is jumping
for joy
 
and the days of
drinking the pain
away have got to
the point where
dylan thomas
looks over at
me and smiles
 
no one ever
promised life
would be fun
and fulfilling
 
hell, i wasn't
even promised
a tomorrow
 
these are the
days where i
wish my father
had the courage
to follow through
on his threats
------------------------------------------------------------
in a dying town
 
an old buddy of mine
opened up a coffee
shop in the town
we grew up in
 
i wish him all the
luck in the world
 
a small business
in a dying town is
usually a recipe for
the onset of a mid-life
crisis
 
of course, he served
in the navy
 
so, it's probably not
the first crisis he has
come across
------------------------------------------------------------
a smile to your face
 
i still remember that
perkins parking lot
and how you couldn't
believe how easily
i slid my hand down
your pants and brought
a smile to your face
 
you're still the only
woman to ever answer
her door in lingerie
for me
 
i'm sure your wife
is enjoying that now
 
thankfully, i haven't
drank all the memories
away
-------------------------------------------------------------
down the roads of apathy
 
near the end of summer
 
another hot, long, sweaty
ride down the roads of
apathy here in the midwest
 
the road to nowhere has
been washed in the blood
of countless suicides and
the old souls realizing all
their mistakes
 
the kkk still like to recruit
here, but often knock on
all the wrong doors
 
i saw a black man walking
with his daughter in the
neighborhood yesterday
 
first time i have smiled
 
in months
-----------------------------------------------------------
this holiday weekend
 
a local radio
station is doing
an 80's marathon
this holiday
weekend
 
just what i
want to do
 
relive my fucking
childhood with all
these songs choking
on nostalgia
 
i figure i'll throw on
some beethoven
 
pour a glass of scotch
 
and think of a few
creative ways to die

J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) was raised by wolves yet managed to graduate high school with honors. He’s been widely published over the years, most recently at Horror Sleaze Trash, The Rye Whiskey Review, Terror House Magazine, The Beatnik Cowboy and Pyrokinection. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)