WITH A SWEET DREAM!

Mind never agrees though intently I see

I die checking who wrote these words

Who clings to my heart so very much

Lost and absorbed, my eyes overflow 

I know not myself despite attempts

The evening wind blows with hisses

The mind for no reason goes shrinking

My Days drown as my heart throbs

I do my best to be absolutely genuine

But someone unforgotten cheats me

I do listen to her tremendous laughter

And fall asleep with a sweet dream.

SANDS OF TIME!

The wild emotions of mine fly away

Shedding all their faded feathers

Me so lonely now with none beside me

Deserted are the sands of time

Old emotions fade away like blooms

My soul does write desolate thoughts 

Of my mind in odd and hidden tunes

My mind filled with an aroma unknown 

Gentle breeze blows caressing quietly 

All the hopes the sky and waves pour

I shape them into words to give you

Passionate are tunes and words I give.

MYTH OF LOVE!

The meeting is an explanation

My myth of love is older than we’re

Let the heartbeats stay tuned

Two hearts have to be brought closer

To rest on my beautiful dreams’ arm

Now I feel the world is at my feet

Sometimes find my dreams weaker

Than the broken bits of the mirror

Now settled from being shattered

Hearts are like shrines in a temple

Where we both religiously worship

God is sure to take care of our realm.

BREATH OF MINE!

If there is something in your heart

Your eyes have already expressed it

It feels like spending a decade to know you

Every time we meet I do feel afresh 

As if your eyes were talking something

While alone, your eyes stalk behind my shade

A journey of ages has wound up in just one moment

I have no idea if my life has moved so fast

I keep thinking about you for hours

As if every breath of mine was just yours.

Dr. Prasanna Kumar Dalai (DOB 07/06/1973) is a passionate Indian Author-cum-poet while a tremendous lecturer of English by profession in the Ganjam district of Odisha. He is an accomplished source of inspiration for young generation of India. His free verse on Romantic and melancholic poems appreciated by everyone. He belongs to a small typical village Nandiagada of Ganjam District,the state of Odisha. After schooling he studied intermediate and Graduated In Kabisurjya Baladev vigyan Mahavidyalaya then M A in English from Berhampur University PhD in language and literature and D.litt from Colombian poetic house from South America.

He promotes his specific writings around the world literature and trades with multiple stems that are related to current issues based on his observation and experiences that needs urgent attention. He is an award winning writer who has achieved various laurels from the circle of writing worldwide. His free verse poems not only inspires young readers but also the ready of current time. His poetic symbol is right now inspiring others, some of which are appreciated by laurels of India and across the world. Many of his poems been translated in different Indian languages and got global appreciation. Lots of well wishes for his upcoming writings and success in future. He is an award winning poet author of many best seller books.

Recently he is awarded Rabindra nath Tagore and Gujarat Sahitya Academy for the year 2022 from Motivational Strips . A gold medal from world union of poets France & winner Of Rahim Karims world literary prize 2023.The government of Odisha Higher Education Department appointed him as a president to Governing body of Padmashree Dr Ghanashyam Mishra Sanskrit Degree College, Kabisurjyanagar.

Winner of “HYPERPOEM” GUNIESS WORLD RECORD 2023.Recently he was awarded from SABDA literary Festival at Assam. Highest literary honour from Peru contributing world literature 2024.

Completed 200 Epistolary poems with Kristy Raines, USA.

Books.

1. Psalm of the Soul.

2. Rise of New Dawn.

3. Secret Of Torment.

4. Everything I never told you.

5. Vision Of Life National Library Kolkata.

6. 100 Shadows of Dream.

7. Timeless Anguish.

8. Voice of Silence.

9. I Cross My Heart From East to West.

Epistolary poetry with Kristy Raines

(Image of a middle aged South Asian man with short dark hair, reading glasses, no beard but a small mustache. He’s got a plaid collared shirt on and blue jeans and is sitting in front of a tan wall.)

THE WORLD BETWEEN US

In this world of love, songs, and lore.
As I watch you at a distance, my dear.
My heart thrills with joy and pleasure.
I always aspire to the blissful days at the core.

In this world of the sun and moon.
With the grandeur of Autumn and Spring.
We will have a nice time in nature soon. 
And make this life 
full of felicity in a magical Spring. 

This world is full of forces of good and evil.
We must always cherish a positive will.
And drive out the forces of destruction and the devil.
To make this life full of bliss and goodwill.

Oh dear, let us spread our love to all the creation.
For, the world is suffering, it needs so much love.
Let us love the creation and save it all from destruction.
To all creation let us extend, our ardent love and aspiration.



SONGS OF CUCKOO AND OTHER BIRDS 

Even if it was not dawn 
The sweet symphony of the cuckoo swept into the air
Like a sweet canticle 
It was so clear, sublime, and ecstatic, 
It filled me with a celestial feeling.
As an early riser, 
I sat on the balcony of my house in the countryside and enjoyed it to my heart's content.
It seemed to me that I was not sipping the coffee but the sweet song of the cuckoo.
It was not far off.
Hardly a few meters away from my house. 

Again I heard the fascinating voice of a bird.
With this also, the spring breeze was touching me.
It was having a special charm.
It was so enjoyable free, light, and beautiful.
It was near my balcony,
I saw a tiny bird not more 
than the size of a thumb 
but gifted with so sweet songs.
Being curious I went to see it among the flowering plants adjoining the balcony.
As l went near, it flew away into the air.
But I know, it will again come back and
spread its mesmerizing spell and make the environment happy and 
jubilant.
For, spring is existing with all its beauty and splendour.



SILENT LOVE

You are separated from me miles away
Perhaps there is less chance to meet again
But your memory always haunts me
And still, always a subtle silent link moves.
It travels from me to you always
It speaks soul to soul
An inner soul voice speaks to you in silent hours.
It is, as if, you are with me and talking. 
I feel the pangs but I transcend it.
A sense of satisfaction I feel.
You can tell it is love or anything else.
I believe, beyond body, feelings transcend
And takes the soul to the loved one.
Beyond body, a true love world exists.
Body attachment destroys, the purity of love
True love is always beyond body.
It transcends and comes back to your shore



DIVINE FLAME

In the far distance on the horizon
There blaze a flower of crimson light
So radiant and bright
Behold it with all your might

My heart aspires to touch the Saviour's light
Under the dew drops deep. 
With the blade of grass filled with dew.
Nodding its head and dancing in the breeze

With the soulful fight
I stand to place my ordeal allure.
With all my endeavour
Only for the coveted goal

Nothing can deflate
Nothing can erase
Nothing can allure and detract
Nothing can move me
My attention is on the saviour light.

With determination of ton's fight
My aspiration jumps to an unseen height
To catch hold of the divine light
With the blessings of the heavenly sight.


He is a bilingual poet, translator, editor, and story writer. He writes in English and 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 centres 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.

Being Alone


Very often I forget the consciousness of death
Although my hands are stuck to the soil of the grave
Every human being wears clothes
Addition and subtraction of demand
A staircase extending from zero to infinity
The galloping horses run into the unknown
The distance radius increases from person to person
People bury dead people and want to escape from death
The time map stops with hands raised
Deeds walk along the path of the past
A dark wind rising from the hole of the grave Hiding the footsteps of dead people
The fragrance of roses, the color of marigolds become like a stranger.
White chrysanthemum wrapped in a shroud
Perception on the leaf is irrelevant
Running from death to survive
Quick exit from the cemetery
Where one day we must come for eternity.
Then being alone.

The Sea

This bay adorned with seaweed 
covered rocks, the slight
foam that we avoided,
due to its displacement 
among what beauty 
we could drain from this 
impeccable dullness. 

The sand now scattered  
with half filled bottles,
the remnants of a planned
weekend piss-up gone
horribly wrong, due to a lack
of hindsight on just
how deplorable this destination
is, despite our longing for nostalgia. 

The crack of gulls upon 
polystyrene clog up the salt air
inhaled, leaving white dunes
in our lungs, absorbed through
arteries, and bled out across
a beach now devoid of promised
pleasure.

The cliffs now split silently
in two, alcoves that barely   
accommodate our disappointment
and slowly close in around us,
as we gradually arise once more
and begin to repair 
what is left of our dignity.  


The Last Days

The owner of this trough
has simply past caring, likewise
it occupants, who feed on its
contents; their sunken principles
stoop to a new low, like a torn kite
through a vortex, never quite hitting the
ground. 

Their breath held tight, 
any forward vision now blind 
with pride, corpulent 
with the grains they have sowed
with minimal toil, and distributed
only amongst themselves.

The tower they deemed 
could never be toppled
now corrodes brick by brick, 
untruth by untruth, 
and slowly falls into this breeze
as toxic dust, which luckily
we finally have the chance to purify. 


Perfect Practice

Chattered words in private,
those footsteps practiced 
in circles that never decrease,
time I considered wrapped 
and protected in this refuge 
which offers no respite, 
like a barb-wire bird's nest,
cradling nothing but discomfort. 

And when the hour strikes,
those shredded nerves now 
engulf each limb and muscle,
a sense of vertigo as that 
time approaches, teeth grating
against pavement curbs, 
the end result is no protection
for a broken throat; 
the rehearsal always 
ends up the finished product.   



Jonathan Butcher has had poems appear in various print and online publications including, The Morning Star, Mad Swirl, Drunk Monkeys, The Abyss, Cajun Mutt Press and others. His fourth chapbook, 'Turpentine' was published by Alien Buddha Press. He is also the editor of online poetry journal Fixator Press.

Tinted Mirrors

Imagine a room
brightly lit with autumn aura
of dried yellow and sweet potato.

No doors,
no windows
except to the soul.
Mirrors line the walls 
in fractures and rainbows,
simplistic to extravagant 
eyes of separate shades
peering into yours.
Oh, the ideas, memories,
reflections bleeding out,
pouring back into
your essence.
I envy your shards 
of opportunity.

Now, imagine the page
in front of you,
notebook sheltered in hand.
The light is no longer warm;
dark blue whispers
emanate through the room.
Pen ink lingers on the page,
colors, letters,
remnants of sensory sorcery.
The tinted reflector
has a color of your own:
blood, tears, touch, eyes
lining fractions of your story
A new beholder 
shall soon perceive
this work of art.

Each bridge he links
To the end of each valley
Is the sweet fruits of his tree of life
Each sweet fruit he tastes
Gives him the bitter part of life 

+


 I drive my piercing Blade
   Beneath the rocky soils
         of a Blessed Sky
              driven by
                winds.
And Fear itself
 Scatters the Rocks
         to leave the Silt,
For Rains will draw
      a carried path
              to fruition.
   A Tall
  Shield differentiates
Love's lights to mend
Our
 Hearts         
     with
       Grace 
           ♡

                                                ............



Composition May 21, 2024
 on a Tuesday Morning 
by  John Edward Culp