EMPTY AND PEBBLED
--Cheops Beach in autumn

Naked we together again run
on our gold dust and pearls
beside the sleeping sea.
The waning sun beads our skin
while the wind smothers our lungs.

Every vagina is exposed,
a messy lagar where the wine is formed.
Any penis is Hermetical, closed,
an opaque clarinet.

Today the halves of the hinge
are rusty, stiff, and worn.

These times before,
nipple and prick would respond
to the air the sheen the motion
with alert anticipation.
These times before. But no more.

This is what this fall displays:
our lifetimes are pyramids
infinite at base
inexorable toward the point.


TAKE ME IN

“Take me in.” the poet prayed, “take me in.” The prophet hid.
“Take me in,” the poet said. “take me in.
No banker paid. “Take me in.” The soldier fled;
“Sink or swim,” the lawyer pled. “Take me in,”
the poet said, take me in.”
A woman did.

“Make me warm,” the woman cried, “safe from harm.”
The poet sighed. “Words are thin,” he did reply, “weak and thin.
But yet I’ll try. Weak and thin, but yet I’ll try.”

In the bin by page by page,
in the bin the books were laid,
inch by inch were set ablaze.
Line by line the match was lit.
Word by word
the poems all went.

“Now I’m warm,” the woman said,
“safe from harm. But poet’s dead.”
Poet dead?
Poet dead?
He lives on inside her head.
His words go on inside her head.


JENNIFER IN TWO VOICES

I know why the sky sings the blues – for you, Jenny, for you – atmosphere breaks down and cries. Once the wind must have had your voice: Wind makes my soul rejoice to hear you echo once more. Your precious beauty to preserve, earth freezes to its nerves in ecstasies of ermine. And the waves for you outreach – the sea begs up the beach, hands-&-knees its way in pride. And trees have honored you in gold, red carpet where you rode, jade ceilings and emerald floors -- nature’s learned your lesson well how to be beautiful: your appearance is your sermon.

I know why the sky sings the blues – for you, Jenny, for you – atmosphere breaks down and cries. (Across the landscape many-firred, atmosphere breaks down and cries,) Once the wind must have had your voice: Wind makes my soul rejoice to hear you echo once more. (urges us make love manifold to hear your echo once more.) Your precious beauty to preserve, earth freezes to its nerves in ecstasies of ermine. (Among the creeks and conifers in ecstasies of ermine,) And the waves for you outreach – the sea begs up the beach, hands-&-knees its way in pride. (in fields of foxes henna-furred – I hands-n-knees my way inside,) And trees have honored you in gold, jade ceilings and emerald floors (where moist warmth is plentiful, on jade ceilings and emerald floors.) -- nature’s learned your lesson well how to be beautiful: your appearance is your sermon. (Raven-eyed/lynx-face Jennifer: Your appearance is your sermon.)

Across the landscape many-firred, atmosphere breaks down and cries, urges us make love manifold. To hear your echo once more among the creeks and conifers in ecstasies of ermine, in fields of foxes henna-furred – I hands-n-knees my way inside where moist warmth is plentiful. On jade ceilings & emerald floors, raven-eyed/lynx-face Jennifer: Your appearance is your sermon.


AN ORDINARY LOVE STORY

If you are the vault, I
am the combination.
(a tux,
a mum,
a candled dinner)
If I am the match, you
are the conflagration.
(a kiss,
the cum,
those tangled
fingers)
If we are the watch, you
are the complication.


PEACE MEAL


…That night we dined. We had port and escargot
       and music,                      and the candles kissed the wine, the
WE                           *I                 way
       WERE                   *tried        one
REFUGEES                          *to  would                                                     the
        WEIGHING --minds not on *hold or cargo,                          rosebud
              INTO  (the)                   pearls*her                                        parted,
                     (PORT)                     or           *eyes                        blossomed,
                   (pearled)  FROM       fine                  *in                            grew
                           (on)               CHINA.                     *mine.
                          (her)                                           OR                           toward
   Fine food our (lips) barely touched--     SOME                                  the
                         (like)                   OTHER                                                    sun
                        (dew)               FAR                                                                in
                           (on) WHERE.                                                                     my
                (rosebuds,)                  Words chilled                                     eyes,
(like rain on shipsail)                      in the air.                                      kissed
      (as from her port)                   Finely she said: we’re through.       the
              (she slipped)                                                                                  sun, And cried.
And I cried too.                                   And then we left, as diners do
                                                                          when they are finished.

“Spiritual Pulse” Letter from Churchgoer Per the Request of a Local Pastor

By Jacques Fleury

Local Pastor: Dear Churchgoers,
 
We live in uncertain times filled with both possibility and peril, not to mention the daily joys and challenges of living. What are your hopes, dreams and fears in [sic] this moment? What are the urgent spiritual, moral, ethical, and religious questions that are on your hearts as we face these turbulent times? Your questions also help me take the “spiritual pulse” of our congregation, and they inform my preaching throughout the year.

Churchgoer’s reply to Pastor’s request:

I attended this Sunday’s service and although I spoke to the Reverend about how much I “felt” his sermon in the viscera of my soul, which left me in a haze of joy, I did not get a chance to tell him how much I enjoyed the singing and piano playing and how it blended harmoniously with the his sermon on being “grounded” through deep penetrating “roots” of the spirit.

The choir sounded ethereal, as a creative, I felt like I was in one of my lofty literary dreams, as doves and butterflies flutter around me in some, as we say in French “Île de la Cité” akin to Elysian Fields …in some island paradise.

First and foremost, I want to offer a snippet about my origins. I am from the island of Hispaniola, as it was re-named by notorious colonial era usurper Christopher Columbus or Hayti (meaning mountainous land) as it was originally named by the indigenous Native American Indians, I have not been there since I left to study abroad with my parents in America when I’d just completed the 7th grade in an exclusive, strict and abusive catholic school near the Haitian White House called Frere Andre or “Brother Andre” in English. My father had U.S. Residence & mercantile status as a business owner hence he lived in both America and in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, where his retail store was located adjacent to the then Versace storefront in the bustling sunny city.

Both he and mom owned businesses so they both travelled back-and- forth which meant sometimes I had to live in other parts of the world. At times I stayed with my paternal grandmother, who was biracial, my paternal great grandfather was a “white” man from France, hence explaining the reasons why my DNA tests on Ancestry dot com reveals Euro-Afro-Haitian ancestry since I’m also a descendent of enslaved West Africans brought to Haiti by the French for the purpose of cultivating and harvesting a then prosperous island replete with natural resources. Bauxite (aluminum ore), copper, calcium carbonate, gold, and marble were the most extensively extracted minerals in Haiti. Once the richest colony in the world, Saint Domingue (Haiti) was a leader in the production of sugar, coffee, indigo, cacao, and cotton.

I have published four books thus far and in all my books you’ll soon find out that Hayti, or St. Domingue/Santo Domingo or Haiti, as it is now called, and its people are NOT defined by “misery and hardship” as the mostly North American mainstream media would have you believe.

In the impassioned pages of my books, you will find stories of beauty, joy, resiliency and its revolutionary marker as the First Black Republic in the world and it was money from the then prosperous island that France used to supplement the American Revolution and Haitians also came to fight America’s fight against the British for independence for which they are memorialized in Savannah, Georgia. “The largest unit of soldiers of African descent who fought in the American Revolution was the brave “Les Chasseurs Volontaires de Saint Domingue from Haiti. This regiment consisted of free men who volunteered for a campaign to capture Savannah from the British in 1779” according to Contemporary Monuments to the Slave Past. The island constituted 70% percent of France’s economy, which is why they fought so hard to uphold the system of slavery and keep the country under French rule.

Now that I’ve said a bit about myself to provide some interpersonal context, here are my questions; which will be listed in two parts.

Part I.

I spent my early primary schooling in catholic school up the 7th grade when my father sent me to study in the States. I was physically and psychologically abused by the “Brothers” in my school, which has damaged my sense of self-worth and trust in “any” religious organization.

Q. How do you propose healing these immanent wounds of yore and letting go of the anger and resentment I often wrestle with daily and be able to keep my heart “open” to the love and light from a Higher Power, or Universal life Force Energy, God, or Allah whatever one chooses to call him/her/them etc…? 

Part II.

Growing up in America has also inflicted additional wounds to my already wounded heart having been labeled falsely a “Black man” when I am just “A Man” — due to the pseudoscience of eugenics and polygenesis–and considered an anomaly and the pejorative prejudice that is tethered along with that notion and practice. I try to keep an open mind and heart and try not to see the potential for more harm from those who look like the people who’d acted with prejudicial intents in the past; and who conceivably continue the atavistic practice of discrimination and dehumanization against those who look like me in the present. Particularly considering the Global Call for Social Justice and Racial Reckoning currently manifesting in America and elsewhere after collectively witnessing the public lynching of George Floyd on National Television.  All this harmful racialized hoopla triggered by the misinformation and xenophobic theoretical discrimination exalted by biased “scientists” of yore. They exalted a myriad origins of humanity and consequently separated the races into white, brown, black etc.

As you may already know, Polygenism was expressed in the seventeenth century in the work of Isaac De Peyrère (1596–1676) and by some philosophers and writers of the eighteenth-century Enlightenment. Monogenists of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, such as Buffon and Blumenbach, countered, arguing for the unity of the human species as ONE race: the human race.

I have written extensively about this in my book: Chain Letter To America: The One Thing You Can Do To End Racism for according over 100 years of genome research from such prestigious Universities as the likes of Stanford and Harvard, the first civilization was traced back to sub Saharan Africa 50,000 years ago, before their eventual migration to Asia, Europe and other parts of the world hence we are all geophysical representations of our African ancestors! The farther away from the equator, the lighter our skin colors and other modified traits. I wish this had been taught in high school…which would have probably prevented my negative sense of self and the ensuing feelings of “inferiority & not enoughness” which then propelled me to write my latest book: You Are Enough: The Journey to Accepting Your Authentic Self to celebrate myself just as I am!

Q: How do I reconcile the celebration of newfound racial justice “allies” and/or “accomplices” while navigating the relative continued oppression of Black Indigenous People of Color (BIPOC) in America?

Rev. I am aware that my two questions almost read more like essays, it’s just that I have NEVER been given this opportunity before…NO ONE has ever asked me about how I feel about these matters since I’ve been an American citizen or “Black” or “African (-) American” or “Haitian (-) American” citizen etc… As the ubiquitous Pulitzer Prize winning writer Toni Morrison of “Beloved” fame once said: “In this country American means white. Everybody else has to hyphenate (-).”

Thank you, Reverend, for this momentous and iconoclastic opportunity. I will treasure it always. One Love!

Jacques Stanley Fleury is a Haitian-American Poet, Author and Educator. He holds an undergraduate degree in Liberal Arts and is currently pursuing graduate studies in the literary arts at Harvard University online. Once on the editing staff of The Watermark, a literary magazine at the University of Massachusetts, his first book Sparks in the Dark: A Lighter Shade of Blue, A Poetic Memoir was featured in and endorsed by the Boston Globe. His second book: It’s Always Sunrise Somewhere and Other Stories is a collection of short fictional stories dealing with the human condition as the characters navigate life’s foibles and was featured on Good Reads. His current book and hitherto magnum opus Chain Letter to America: The One Thing You Can Do to End Racism, A Collection of Essays, Fiction and Poetry Celebrating Multiculturalism explores social justice in America and his latest book, “You Are Enough: The Journey to Accepting Your Authentic Self”  along with all other previously mentioned titles are available at public libraries, The Harvard Book Store, Porter Square Books, The Grolier Bookshop, Goodreads, bookshop, Amazon etc.  His CD A Lighter Shade of Blue as a lyrics writer in collaboration with the neo-folk musical group Sweet Wednesday is available on Amazon, iTunes & Spotify to benefit Haitian charity St. Boniface.

Rebirth

Upon the mighty sun's death
Comes gentle moon's birth
Twelve beats of burning labor
Darkness shines with cool favor
Silence disturbed by chirping
Cicada's courtship revibrating
Floating a heavenly orchestra
Twinkling lights of stage's extra
Nocturnal actors play a drama
Mysterious aura of a diorama
Silence fill the eight hour recess
Secret dreams no one can guess
Dawn creeping slow and gently
Sending off darkness longingly 
A rooster screamed with might
Announcing valiant sun's rebirth



Be Free

When voice is silenced by insults and threats, 
When life is drowning in anger, pains and regrets
When mind is forbidden to be free and fly
When truth is twisted and one is forced to lie
When sound is hoarse towards the heaven's ears
Yet not even a single blot of cloud hears
When one's soul and spirit is condemned to die
Then one has no recourse but carve all into words 
Be they bleeding festered wounds or sheathed swords.
For a windy fire, muteness cannot afford
Its blaze shall cackle on its on accord
What joy to be read and understood
Though no difference if forever hidden under hood
For the heart's knife scraped not for honor
Thrusts and slashes are to expose the horror
Thanks Green Owl

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.

LIFE & ITS VERSATILITIES

Life

Life is an unchosen gift which we should try to make the most of. In our ignorance, we generally waste most of our time. By the time we realize its importance, much of it has been wasted.  It is a pity we do not carry forward knowledge from our previous incarnations and we have to start afresh. Life remains a process of learning only. Life can be best spent if we understand in the beginning that we are not the masters of the game. We are passive participants. We have been dealt some cards and we are expected to play the game to the best of our wits.

The important thing is that we should play a fair game. Those who underplay or overplay it, soon come to grief after a brief period of exuberance. We can instill meaning into our lives by being good at heart, being helpful to others, and not harboring ill will against anyone. It is good if we can forgive the people who have played false with us. The most important thing in our life is not wealth, nor possessions, but peace of mind and happiness. And we should not disturb others’ happiness, nor let others destroy ours.

Death

We erroneously think that death comes at the end of life. And it is a nightmarish experience. Yes, death is a bridge between life and eternity. Nobody has looked beyond what lies at the other side of the bridge. Death is a lingering phenomenon, which shadows our life. Every moment that we live, actually dies. So, all the day, the process of dying is on. Moments which we have lived are dead now, and they are becoming past. It should be remembered that there is no life without death, and no death without life. Inanimate things do not die. For a living thing, it is a privilege to decline as time passes, and finally die, giving space to the new. It is better we learn to understand that where there is life, there is death.

Birth                

Birth, marriage and death are three occasions in life which are considered most important. When we come to life, we have no options. We do not know who places the order for us, and who delivers us on to the earth. Mother is there, but she too is a passive agency. The decision for a person to be born in a particular family is taken at the highest level. The person is not consulted where he will be born, when he will be born, and what will be his colour, his religion, and his stature. Things are just given to him like gifts in one stroke and he is made to move. Now, it is in our hands how to understand this life. The entire life sometimes passes and still we are unaware of our destiny. Why a man has come to this earth? This question we must ask ourselves. We have not come simply to earn money and eat and drink and make merry. There are other reasons, some higher reasons, which bring us to this earth. In the absence of that knowledge, for most of he people, it is a blind trudge only.

Marriage/Family

A man has to raise a family for the purposes of reproduction, and our society wants him to marry. Everybody marries, everybody has one or two kids, and people know the kids have to be given education, and when they grow up, married off. But the task is very tough. The most basic issue for the couple is to stay together even if they do not  understand each other. Kids too when grow up, no one knows what they will be in their lives, even if they are given equal nourishment.

The essential issue here is: Should every one marry? Those who cannot compromise with others, must not marry. If you marry, then be ready to share your time with someone whom you don’t know. It is better people who marry know each other for at least six months. Once kids are there, no couple should be allowed to separate so long as the kids are below the age of 5 years. It is easy to break a family, and it is very difficult to stay together. It is better if we try to stay in marriage. Breakage can destroy the lives of the kids. Family is the smallest unit of the society. It must have harmony. We should see there is compatibility between the partners. And there is love too. Otherwise, it is a picnic party which ends in brick bats.

Children

People these days are so fed up with their lives, and careerism, that they do not want kids. But in view of the modern wisdom, they go for women who are in service. They have to postpone childing under pressures of the work. Then, they do not have quality time for their infant kids. We are not fair. Because, this is what the kids will visit upon us when they grow up, and we grow down.

It is essential we allow the kids to grow, and acquire the qualifications they wish to get, join the stream of life which best suits them, and then, separate them from the main family unit, and let them run their own family. Distance is a great healer. It is a must if we want to see peace between the MIL and the DIL. [Mother-in-law and the Daugher-in-Law].

Author:

Dr Jernail Singh Anand, President of the International Academy of Ethics, is author of 167 books in English poetry, fiction, non-fiction, philosophy and spirituality. He was awarded Charter of Morava, the great Award by Serbian Writers Association, Belgrade and his name was engraved on the Poets’ Rock in Serbia. The Academy of Arts and philosophical Sciences of Bari  [Italy] honoured him with the award of an Honourable Academic.  Recently, he was awarded Doctor of Philosophy [Honoris Causa] by the University of Engg and Management, Jaipur. Recently, he organized an International Conference on Contemporary Ethics at Chandigarh. His most phenomenal book is Lustus: The Prince of Darkness [first epic of the Mahkaal Trilogy]. [Email: anandjs55@yahoo.com Mobile: 919876652401[Whatsapp] [ethicsacademy.co.in]

Link Bibliography:

https://atunispoetry.com/2023/12/08/indian-author-dr-jernail-s-anand-honoured-at-the-60th-belgrade-international-meeting-of-writers/

https://sites.google.com/view/bibliography-dr-jernal-singh/home

Listening to Etta James sing “At Last”

At last

The discordant threads

Will be woven.

The tattered

Will be tangled

Into each other….

And the moon

Will finally bust

And burst

Through the nocturnal

Sky

And the black birds

Will suddenly sing

And fly.

What you have seen

Will finally be seen.

What has slipped

Through your spidery fingers

Will now stick to you….

And the universe

Will envelop

You.

Doug Holder is a poet living in Somerville, Mass. His work has appeared in the Worcester Review, The Lowell Review, Constellations, Lilipoh, Caesura and others. He is on the board of directors of the New England Poetry Club.

Board of Directors of the New England Poetry Club

Boston Area Small Press and Poetry Scene   http://dougholder.blogspot.com

Ibbetson Street Press  http://www.ibbetsonpress.com

Poet to Poet/Writer to Writer  http://www.poettopoetwritertowriter.blogspot.com

Doug Holder CV http://www.dougholderresume.blogspot.com

Doug Holder’s Columns in The Somerville Timeshttps://www.thesomervilletimes.com/?s=%22Doug+Holder%22&x=0&y=0

Doug Holder’s collection at the Internet Archive  https://archive.org/details/@dougholder

In Silent Awe 

In silent awe, the heavens speak, 
Of mysteries deep, of wonders meek. 
The stars, His whispers in the night, 
A canvas wide, with holy light. 
The mountains rise, their heads held high, 
In reverence to the endless sky. 
The oceans bow, their tides embrace, 
The boundless love, the tender grace. 
Through every leaf and every tree, 
His breath of life flows wild and free. 
In every dawn, His promise new, 
A world reborn in every hue. 

The birds sing hymns to praise His name, 
The wind declares His endless fame. 
In every heart, a quiet place, 
Where souls can meet His gentle face. 

Beyond the veil of time and space, 
He holds us close in warm embrace. 
Through joy and pain, He leads us on, 
Our constant guide till night is gone. 

In silent awe, we stand and see, 
The hand of God in all that be. 
For every beat, and every breath, 
We owe to Him, who conquered death. 


Maja Milojković was born in 1975 in Zaječar, Serbia.
She is a person to whom from an early age, Leonardo da Vinci's statement "Painting is poetry that can be seen, and poetry is painting that can be heard" is circulating through the blood.
That's why she started to use feathers and a brush and began to reveal the world and herself to them.
As a poet, she is represented in numerous domestic and foreign literary newspapers, anthologies and electronic media, and some of her poems can be found on YouTube.

Many of her poems have been translated into English, Hungarian, Bengali and Bulgarian due to the need of foreign readers.
She is the recipient of many international awards.
"Trees of Desire" is her second collection of poems in preparation, which is preceded by the book of poems "Moon Circle". 
She is a member of the International Society of Writers and Artists "Mountain Views" in Montenegro, and she also is a member of the Poetry club "Area Felix" in Serbia.

River

Nature's impish thoughts manifested
A sublime Pinnacle of lay bare thoughts
A flower smiles when it rains 
For it will be drenched forever
Into the autumn pal
The dusk dawn lies peacefully
The cat musk heaves a playful sigh
When Aurora Borealis dream open
A new sledge hammers through
By the river upfront
I cried a soothing honeybee
For two more added beauty 
Has been my forte
As the dying river died a peaceful death
For autumn comes a decades musing high.