No Love to Go Back
How can we go back
To what's gone and done
It's hard to be blind
How our hearts changed
Don't know what to do
Feelings may've been true
All is past behind
All is done and gone
No way to go back
I have known back then
The day it begun
You said you love me
How our hearts changed
Don't know what to do
Feelings may've been true
Case of infamy
Life ended the fun
Have I known back then
Heaven is for us
But I did wonder
When we're together
How our hearts changed
Don't know what to do
Feelings may've been true
There's no forever
So I did wonder
Is heaven for us
I have lost your love
Nothing's left for us
Knew would never last
How our hearts changed
Don't know what to do
Feelings may've been true
All is in the past
What else's there for us
I have lost your love
No love to go back...
Pained Memories
I tried to go back
Through my life story
And it's hard to say
Hindsight's not a thrill
If only you know
That it's not funny
And I won't complain
Though it makes me chill
-
I've felt ever since
Day you came along
Said you'd stay a while
And be here with me
You didn't tell me
That you can't belong
And I trusted you
Believed all you say
-
Heaven is for us
But I did wonder
If we're together
When we kiss today
Love can't ever be
There's no forever
I cannot insist
I get what I may
-
I have lost the past
Knew would never be
All that's left for us
I wish not to 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.
Think About It
Turning myself inside out
for you
so you can sniff and contemplate
if I'm worth a smoke
all my jokes
meaning more than tears
and you're beginning to understand
my love is beyond endless and more
faithfull
as the spin of the earth and beat of stars
so come
and make us as one....
A Way Home
Let's run together
quick step and jump holding hands
over this nervous world
sun tanning our bare backs and rumps
easy breathing and laughing
with no fear
we will be like children
long before the aging of flowers
their scent stopping time in awe
so smack your lips
we're going to kiss
a sugar dream
lasting forever!
Flight
In the air
floating
I'm your hero
and you're my Goddess
clouds soft
stopping when we want
lying upon them
sunset's far reaching fingertips of warmth
we dance naked
into a night sky of teasing stars.
Created
And when our dreams melt
we will float in the sea
under the night with the coming dawn
I seeing you and you seeing me
soon in heaven
where we were created to be.
Stephen Jarrell Williams can be found on X Twitter @papapoet
sadness becomes loneliness
it's the
laugh,
the gentle
i love you
late at night,
the warm
embrace
and suddenly
remembering
how many years
it's actually been
how the touch
of a woman is
nearly foreign
to you now
hopeless should
never come up
when you think
about sex
sadness becomes
loneliness before
you even realize
the world has
left you behind
--------------------------------------------------------------
start the weekend
a
thunderstorm
before the
morning
coffee
not exactly
how i wanted
to start the
weekend
but you're
old enough
now to know
you don't get
to choose such
things
your place in
life doesn't
allow it
--------------------------------------------------------
two vapid souls
shuffling down
the boulevard
a skeleton of
a man
thinning goatee
and hollow eyes
holding hands
with his woman
a soul crushing
blonde light years
out of his league
most assume there
are two reasons
why she is with
him
girth and wealth
most assumptions
are true more than
we actually realize
two vapid souls
searching for a
better tomorrow
if such a thing
even still fucking
exists
---------------------------------------------------------
a zombie apocalypse
the muse believes
she can't trust me
during a zombie
apocalypse
that makes me
laugh
she apparently
doesn't understand
that i will be dead
before any of that
ever happens
zombies, an apocalypse,
or a glorious heel turn
more pressing matters
are at hand as usual
like rent, taxes, a check
engine light that always
seems to come on at the
least opportune times
not to even mention
where one might be
able to find some
non-toxic land to
grow food or
whatever else
---------------------------------------------------------------------
a soft rain in the sunshine
two loose shits
within five minutes
of waking up
jack daniels for
dinner strikes
again
a stray cat comes
to our backyard
looking for birds
or some food
luck never appears
in this damn town
a soft rain in the
sunshine
a lonely woman
wonders of a better
way to die
here comes a daydream
meant for a better soul
the cocaine always runs
out on a tuesday night
right as she starts to feel
ok with doing it for money
once again
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
J.J. Campbell (1976 - ?) is old enough to know better. He's been widely published over the years, most recently at Disturb the Universe Magazine, The Beatnik Cowboy, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Black Coffee Review and The Asylum Floor. Rumor has it that he might have a joint chapbook coming out this summer with Casey Renee Kiser. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)
America’s / culinary roots / & Caribbean flavors
Ignore the variable sample
size, even when there are
such influential outliers
in the data as the Dearborn
Truck Plant, an upscale
specialty sandwich concept
shop unmatched by any
nearby drug store. I have
been guilty of eating the
odd haute/uberchic/upscale
sandwich myself! The Kill-
deer & Canadian Geese
that nest on its green
roof can be dealt with
by rule-directed searches
through mutation sequence
space that incorporate
energy production as
well as food producing
facilities. It will be days
before authorities can
determine the cause of death.
Materialist hermeneutics
The oven is a
resonant space
within which I
can move easily.
I put an egg &
some hotdogs in-
to it; what comes
out is expanded
& dynamically
rearranged. Each
time it is the
event itself which
operates against
the ego in order
to make room for
deconstruction; &
in doing so, opens
a window in which
to explicitly address
the techno-sexuality
of the digital page.
Sousa phoned
Snare drum
undone is hum-
drum until
rimshot or
paradiddle
pokes noise into
its silence. Such
a puzzle, perhaps
part riddle. Stick
figures giving
flesh to frame-
work. Is con/
un/drum.
Cultural artifice
Gerbils are not for-
bidden, nor are the latest
Broadway refrains, even
when played on rubber
violins. The conservative
Ordnung that guides
Swartzentruber practise
is still moderate enough
not to alienate swing
voters. Attracted by it
he started back for
Cedar City. Rarely is the
Toreador's song more
successfully achieved.
Pectoral
No content at the
moment but later
will be. It's possible
the ultimate constituents
of the planned structure
might consist wholly
of senses or concepts
but it's more likely
to be hot muscle car
babes with great curves
that love muscle cars
& the guys who own
them. Surprising how
fish survive so well in
what must be a harsh
& hostile environment.
Deprivation-
The touch was clear. It asked for something else. Something more pure and crystal. Transparent as my sister's fingernail.
I create muses in the air and talk to imaginary situations. Pets, people- furniture and sky. I bang utensils on the table and chew table cloth.
With shapeless nights and foamy mouth, I say my prayers and chant all the Buddhist sayings. Deprivation—-- a long pause.
From the sky like a circular topology. From inch to inch, moving gently to nowhere.
Now, I see television and dance to sepia voices, lost sounds or perhaps to kettle whistle.
I do not remain a body. Shifting towards a sanguine night sitting on a Jasmine.
I discard everything.
All and everything.
Devika Mathur resides in India and is a published poet, writer, and editor. Her works have been published in The Alipore Post, Madras Courier, Quail Bell, Modern Literature, Two Drops Of Ink, Dying Dahlia Review, Pif Magazine, Spillwords, Duane's Poetree, Piker Press, Mojave Heart Review, Whisper and the Roar amongst others. She is the founder of the surreal poetry website "Olive skins" and writes for https://myvaliantsoulsblog.wordpress.com/ She recently published her book "Crimson Skins" and her five poems were also published in the Sunday Mornings River anthology and has her works upcoming in two more fierce anthologies.
black cavities
outside the hospital
empty corpses
compliance ...
cries for help
getting louder
burning flames
outside the embassy
a soldier protesting
blood-stained gown
behind the window
a gasping doctor
ceasefire ...
a man in the rubble
collecting body parts
EVENING IN THE MEADOWS
In this meadow full of swampy land.
Adorned with mountains trees, grass, flowers and salubrious evening air.
The sky was looking so glorious tinged with golden color
It was a nice evening mesmerized with wild flowers.
Meanwhile the moon appeared in the sky with million smiles.
The fringe sky looked glimmered with moonshine.
Slowly the moonshine wrapped the whole ambiance.
Every beings lighted and delighted with the soft moonlight.
The tall trees of the meadows looked beautiful and meditative.
A rapt silence reigned in that realm of beauty.
In the meantime the rustle of the leaves resonated the air.
There was whisper of enchanting fragrance in the air.
Then rose the crickets that remained hidden in the grass.
They started their hymn in that enchanting glade.
Prevailed there a beauty and blissful air.
Reverberated the meadows with the songs and whisper of night so fair.
Dr. Maheswar Das
India
MORNING REVERIE OF THE WOODLAND
Morning descends with million smiles and blessings of eternity.
The enormous all- pervading sunshine sprinkles and makes the entire ambiance colourful.
The dew-sprawling-grass field looks glamourous and colorful.
The blade of grass dazzles carrying the dew drops in its breast.
The morning breeze enthralls all beings with an amazing touch of happiness.
The chorus of bird-flocks in the sky enlivens all beings with an infinite peace
The valley looks colorful carrying the tall trees under the enchanting sky
The woodland whispers with glee carrying the enormous shades of clouds.
The tall mountains of the valley kiss the clouds with so much ecstasy in their eyes.
The buzzing of the bees and butterflies makes the land a paradisal look.
The narrow brook that flows in the valley carries the songs of the cuckoo in an enchanting way.
The sky lark and other song birds spread their music spell unheard of anything of the woods.
The morning resonate with the musing of nature seems meditative .
The rapt reverie of valley is often broken by songs of birds.
Dr. Maheswar Das
India
FROM DEATH TO IMMORTALITY
Like lightning, you are the spark in everything
The energy in all beings
How futile is it to cling to matter always.
How long we will remain as a slave of matter
Not master
Never greedy to go up
Leaving the dense gross, ascending to subtle
How much inert is our intellect
Oh Lord
Raise our consciousness
From darkness to enlightenment
Make us free from the bondage of gross matter
for a upward journey From mortality to immortality
From darkness to light
From matter to divine
For, immense resplendent
light is beckoning from far beyond
Dr.Maheswar Das
India
Daffodils
Oh delightful golden daffodils
Oh messenger of spring
As I behold you for the first time in the garden green
I fell in love with your mesmerizing beauty
To me, you are a golden love flower of heaven
As l see you, my mind thinks of the spring season
I look all around to see the presence of spring
With your arrival, spring has already set in
With all its splendor and glee.
Under the radiant purple sunshine
I see you in the meadows
You are dancing and swinging in the zephyr
Your fragrance lifted me to the realm of heavenly joy and cheer
Heaven's beauty has nestled in your soft gaze.
How beautifully almighty has wrought you.
How beautiful is your whisper
How enchanting is your serenity and beauty that cheers all
How beautiful is your fragrance that attracts all poets and viewers
In vale and meadows, your fragrance stirs the air.
Your presence makes the ambiance colorful
Dr. Maheswar Das
India
Dr. Maheswar Das
-------------------------------
He is a bilingual poet, translator, editor, and story writer. He writes in English and the Odia language.
He has been pursuing his creative writing for the last twenty years and has authored more than one thousand English poems. All of his poetical exposition centers around Nature, God, love, and relationships. Some of his poems have been translated into international languages. He has co-authored three English anthologies of poems with his two friends. Besides he is the co-author of more than fifty English anthologies of poems of many literary groups.
He holds the degree of M.A. in both Economics and History. He has accomplished a Ph.D. degree in sociology from Utkal University. He also holds a law degree from M.S. Law College, Cuttack. He hails from Mallipur in the district of Cuttack, Odisha, India.
His English poems have been published in several national and international journals and Anthologies and have gained worldwide appreciation. He has received so many accolades from various national and international literary groups. He is a recipient of the Gold Medal award from the World Union of Poets, Rome.
