Poetry from Adeolu Adesanya

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WEAPONISED WORDS
©Adeolu Emmanuel Adesanya

Bleed a little you poisoned blood of mine
Into the abysmal valley of my conscience
So that the mixture of half lies and near truth
Can trickle into my heart and wreck fatal havoc.

Let in clammy skin and clutching palpitations
The sinus read a gory details of my troubled past
But take heed to omit the weaponised words
That deliver your pivotal part in the anarchy.

Move back a bit, you ignominious stabbing pain
Rather let the head tilt upward to ease off
On the damages done and certain betrayal
Else the goodness therein titrate with your venom.

How do I go about stopping your flow
Putting a lid on these diluted blood that circulates
Do I bleed out and dry to satisfy your deathly dares
Or simply breathe in long and hard to pacify your thirst.

Bio

An ardent poet and writer for the past 15 years, Adeolu Emmanuel Adesanya, the author of  poetry collection titled “Why Ask Why” obtained the degree of Bachelor of Education  from the prestigious University of Ibadan, Nigeria and Master of Science in Business Management from the University of Wales in Cardiff, and currently a doctoral candidate of the University of Wales. He is widely published in several international anthologies and journals.

Artwork from Kathy Montoya, from Melissa Heye’s Fearless Beans

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These images come from the new book Fearless Beans, by Melissa Heye and illustrated by Kathy Montoya. Book may be found here and shows Beans’ first day at doggie daycare!

Poetry from Joan Beebe

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CELEBRATING HOLIDAYS

The year flies by and all too soon,

we think of so many things we have to do.

The list is long so getting ready takes time,

The kids have their list and I have mine.

We think we will stop all the extras this year,

But suddenly find ourselves the same

As decorations appear.

We run to the mall several times a week

And walk the mall over for the items we seek.

We  promised ourselves to keep the spending lower

But we look at our checkbook and know the marketing power.

So,  sadly we try to sort  our mistakes

Balancing our checkbook, — have we got what it takes?

We promise again that next year we’ll do better

And I know what I’ll do, I’ll write myself a letter

As a reminder of the promise I’ve made

And then make my list before what I will need fades.

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Essay from Elizabeth Hughes

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Holiday Gifts
At this time of year the signs, fliers and containers come out for gifts for the needy. After Christmas I see brand new books either in our recycle bin or outside the trash room due to the kids not wanting that particular book. If I may make a suggestion, for babies and toddlers, get the cloth or card board books. Something that tiny hands can hold easily and won’t tear. Not all parents will or can read to their children, so something like a cloth book with bright colors and cute pictures would be great for them.
For older and elementary school children, get a gift card to a book store, that way the child can pick out the book that will stir their imagination and get them excited about reading. It doesn’t even have to be a major book store. Used books stores probably have gift cards or certificates also. The older child will come closer to reading if they are able to find something that really interests them. It will also make them feel good about their gift and the experience of picking out one of many books that are out there. Please if you do get a gift card, pick one that they are able to buy something with and not just a $5 gift card. The child probably will not find what they want with a small amount. I am not saying it has to be a lot, but just the price of a book.

Poetry from Bruce Roberts

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Hayward Public Library

Cold steel door handles

startle my senses

alert,

eyes scanning

people, shelves, books–

ever the books–

inching off their appointed spots,

creeping closer,

daring me to approach.

I slip past the librarian,

whose wire-rims notice nothing

but my overdues,

taking breath,

deep, tense,

boldly, I enter the stacks.

The hairy hand

around my ankle

springs from

The Rue Morgue

blue book, clear cover,

white-knuckle grip–

Poe me,

but I’m ready.

I kick out hard,

freeing my leg and leaping

20,000 leagues away,

finding Nemo

in brown leather binding,

and giant squid tentacles–

slithery, insistent,

suction cups on my eyes,

my eyes!

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Halloween poetry from Joan Beebe

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A SPOOKY NIGHT

Halloween is coming,

A bewitching night, it seems.

The parents tell the children, have no fear.

And in the dark of the night, lights from some houses gleam

Inviting you to come with your pumpkin bag to fill,

so you draw near.

Of course you have to say, “Trick or Treat”.

To all the people that you meet.

Children running or some just walking but

You see ghosts, Cinderella, space men, and more

You run and hurry to the house next door.

You behold a welcome sight

Of people holding baskets of treats

And they are standing in the light.

Halloween is fun walking in the dark

And seeing ghosts and goblins running here and there,

But parents are watching and they are in their care.

Soon, the night is over and tired children slow down

Everyone is walking at a slower pace, their

Eyes are on their home with their pumpkin bag of treats.