ISSN:-0974 – 3057
ISSUE -I : All selected poets and poems
Editorial for Issue-I March 2008
Countless poems come and hum at the Editors desk.Who dares arrogate himself to be seated on the Ionion Mount and pronounce eternal perdition for some and eternal paradiso for some others.We invoke pierce and announce that language can have no absolute meaning .Each different culture and each different taste interprets a code in its own way .the present group of Editors are also pent up in their own culture.They cannot help it and they selected the poems out of the host come to them from their own perspectives.It does not necessarily mean that the poems which have not been published in the present issue of "The Enchanting Verses" are not worthwhile.Man is always a slave of his perspective and the present editors are aware of their limitations.Still when an assignment of selective poems fall upon their shoulders they must do justice to the same to the best of their knowledge and receptivity.We also dedicate our first issue to great poet William Shakespeare.
The "Enchanting Poet" of this issue is Nikhil Parekh.Out of eighteen stanzas of the poem the first seventeen stanzas have the refrain - Religion is that... and what is religion! Parekh tells you -what your nostrills wanted to inhale till the last breath of life.It seems Parekh is the symbol of infinite thirst drinking deep in boundless Manna.Religion implies the groans of a finite being that thirsts for some aspects of the infinitude.
Other poets chosen in this section are Michael Shepherd , Celine Berghmans, Jan Oskar Hansen ,Amy Louise Kerswell, Martino Mario Fortuin, Nasreen Dawood , Fulgencio Bearis, Dimitriy Kokarev Rizk, Connie Crane ,Abdul - rasheed Uyghurson ,Nik Morgan , Terry halvorson, Stella Qishi, David Taylor , LangErhard Hans Josef Lang,Shernaz Wadia , H. Vaughn McCubbin ,Apurva Iyengar, Sunil Uniyal, Ameera Aidrus ,Koketso Marishane , Amani Bhogadi , Warlik Augustus and Ifedayo oshin .
We dedicate Issue-I of The Enchanting Verses International to William Shakespeare
Full Fathom Five
Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Hark! now I hear them,--ding-dong, bell.
THE ENCHANTING POET CERTIFICATION
<-This title for Issue -I goes to Nikhil Parekh for his dedication and contribution towards poetry writing.
It is better to be religious than to differentiate between religions
Come lets embrace our New Religion…
Religion is that--what even the most infinitesimal cranny of your eyes
wanted to see—inexhaustibly absorb; admire; yearn for till times beyond
infinity and even beyond your veritably stinking grave,
Religion is that-- what each ingredient of your blood inexhaustibly
craved to be a part of ---flow for with an untamed zeal resembling the
unendingly vivacious expanse of the crystalline blue sky,
Religion is that--what the innermost voices of your conscience felt to
be the ultimate truth---irrespective of whatever be the place; time;
situation; moment or conditionality of impoverished & truncated life,
Religion is that—what every part of your feet wanted to ardently step
on---pave an inimitably righteous path of their very own amidst a
brutal quagmire of emotions and squalid commercialism all around,
Religion is that--what your hands wanted to give the most
unflinchingly definitive shape to---such an unfailing silhouette of
eternal friendship which was impossible for even the most beguiling of
demons to disrupt,
Religion is that-- what your lips wanted to kiss 24 X 7---perpetuating
even the most bizarrely frazzled persona to uninhibitedly soar in
wisps of unfettered paradise,
Religion is that--what your nostrils wanted to inhale till the last
breath of life---an entrenchment of unassailable compassion which made
existence the most priceless chapter of destiny,Religion is that--what your fingers wanted to timelessly
with each unveiling instant---bask in the spirit of invincibly
bountiful friendship for times beyond an unfathomable infinite,
Religion is that—what each part of your ears wanted to mellifluously
hear---enthrall to the most unprecedented of capacities in the
everlastingly symbiotic tunes of blissful survival,
Religion is that—what your palms wanted to infallibly clasp forever
and ever and ever---that united strength of togetherness that granted
you the temerity to palpitate even in the most apocalyptically
disastrous of storms and times,
Religion is that—what your mouth wanted to perennially talk and sing
praises about---rhapsodically engulfing each element of the atmosphere
around you with the unbridled happiness of a countless lifetimes in
Religion is that—what each of your bones felt the most resolutely
strong for---defending each honest and fructifying voice from within
like the citadel of the gods,
Religion is that—what your mind fantasized till beyond the most
unbelievably beautiful limits—and thereby felt in the seventh heaven
of ubiquitous prosperity whilst traversing each instant on mundane
Religion is that—what your shoulders philanthropically hoisted from
one end of your adventure to the other—being a selfless harbinger of
humanity to mitigate each ounce of sorrow with profound camaraderie
Religion is that—what your legs want to ecstatically gallop after;
like the horizons indefatigably running after the Sun—the most
tantalizing mirage which tirelessly triggers you to achieve more and
more and more,
Religion is that—what the tiniest cranny of your soul unshakably
radiates---permeating such a yearning that you continued to wondrously
exist beyond your corpse for a countless more lives and lifetimes,
Religion is that—what your heart feels is the absolute epitome of
righteousness—no matter how uncouthly the barbarous planet outside
chose to devour every bit of you; from your very roots,
So folks lets forget everything else; come lets move united and
forward; come lets live this immortal religion of our hearts to the
fullest; come lets forget our disdainfully castrated pasts and give
this new religion of ours a fresh try—and our very very best…
by Nikhil Parekh
There is no happiness without grief and there are nice ways of treating a particular grief
! A grief ago
'There is no grief
which time does not lessen
or soften' -so said Cicero,
a man so often right;a Stoic, those for who
mall life presents a lesson
to be learned from,and then, to move on from..
But I wonder about all this:is grief ever lessened or softened?
Is it not, perhaps, overlaid
in our so various ways?
For some, grief framed and falsified
to ease that grief;
For some, like hyacinths and crocus bulbs,
left in a dark cupboard in the autumn of our grief
to respond to time, and
become at last
gently, gently, the covers pulled
over the loving bed,
the true, the pure, the lovely painful grief,
the memory deep cherished,
gently, gently, folded
into the cupboards of the heart
there to be known, without the door disturbed
until the time - 'a grief ago' as Dylan wrote -
the cupboard opened only for love's sake
without grief...:those carefully folded memories
brought out and loved
and lived a while...not grief, not grief...but
the pure memory of grief
by Michael Shepherd
Spirituality is the only element mightier than the Mightiest Prophets
Listening - Blue Spanish Sky
Sadness humbles its way through:
Blue spanish sky,
listening to the trumpets blowing away
from tears forming on the eyes -
like the blue blue pacific ocean
listening: love me; don't hate me;
care for me...
Watching the Blue spanish sky:
a stirring within indication
in love with love;
in hate with hate;
flies across the sky
as trumpets and voices
blow over my circle in its hole.
Listen; the soft tickles of the guitar
flows lightly in and out of the ears,
soft drums: drumming
to the Blue spanish sky;
wondering why: don't hate me.
Slowly the darkness comes in
Blue spanish sky and darkness stays
within my bones
into the deepness of my inner flesh
the pain doesn't erase -
it stays humbly by my side.
Sadness humbles its way through:
Blue spanish sky,
listening to the trumpets blowing away
from tears forming on the eyes -
like the blue blue pacific ocean
listening: love me; don't hate me;
care for me...
by Celine Berghmans
Rocks may be sharper than swords
I read that word on walls in books and
no political speech can be spoken
Without that word being mention trice.
There are exceptions of course some people
Cannot have justice less they, adjust and become
Like us and show some genuine humility.
Take the huddled lot in the middle-east; we said:
“Hold a fair election,” they did and voted for rebels.
If they want justice they must play the game.
So now they can sit behind a big wall and fret,
Till they understand they have to elect a leader
We accept, one who believes in our democracy
by Jan Oskar Hansen
Imagination is the root of discoveries
Here I sit alone on the hills.
Emptiness surrounds me.
Emptiness for I have lost the will to feel.
I sit here wondering what has my life become.
As I begin to wonder what happened to the old me?
A new feeling encolps me.
I am lost sitting in the empty hills.
Voices surround me.
Laughing at the mess sat on the hills.
That mess is me.
Here I sit alone feeling lost and sad.
As I look back on my life all I can remember is bad.
I can't remember a time when I felt glad.
I sit alone in self pity.
Wondering Who am I?
by Amy Louise Kerswell.
Flowers can enthrall biggest of sanes
Brave Brenda Barefoot
It was really cold last night...
The wood had retired early...
The cold it seemed to relish a fight...
Her mom and dad she hugged dearly...
Brave Brenda Barefoot...off to school at first light...
Barefoot,her stomach coming to terms with those skins...
Softly cursing the rocks and icy stones with all her might...
Brave Brenda Barefoot...scarcely in her teens...
It was really tough at school she thought...
No warm soup or bread at all today...
Difficult to think or say...never mind that silly old nought...
Brave Brenda Barefoot...her mind far away...
It will be cold again tonight her friend had said...
She would need to find more wood...
To save her family,to hold up her head...
Brave Brenda Barefoot...sadly,doing more than she should.
by Martino Mario Fortuin
Greenery is not only soothing to eyes but also hearts
The fish that slipped away
Once you told me feelings are areas grey
You said you accurately observe human nature and emotion
I misunderstood and called it your delusion
You never engaged me further
Did I become a bother?
Maybe you felt nothing because it was only words
How can I explain the spark I felt the longing the nerves
When I walked away for the last time
You gave no response which I concede is no crime
O cynic! All I wanted was for you to believe
Instead I grieve
My loss for being rigid
Maybe I'm not worth fighting for, just timid
Like the rabbit I am
You the monkey with your conventional plan
Okay cynic in your world you are right to think the way you do
Goodbye forever cynic! If only you knew...
The One… What is life without a yearning?
My precious soul
For the ONE that reflects it
If only for a while
As destiny unfolds... The moon my pearl bears testimony
As I gaze at her weary
Each night hoping that the morn
Will light the path to the ONE…
by Nasreen Dawood
Forts symbolize nothing but wars
Warriors in Emergency Room
Some they call them warriors
Warriors in scrub uniform
God send to person in impending doom
Their weapons are stethoscopes,syringes
vital signs monitors, defibrillators and skills.
Any minute ready in a code that might happen
ready for the scenario to saves lives.
Heedless to how many patient they care
with cardiac and respiratory distress, gunshot wound
trauma of all ages they encounter.
To saves lives are normal objectives in their life
Normal heart beats are music to their ears
Their presence at bedside are happy sight
to person who are sick, help are in reach
tender care they asked as they have angels on their sides
At the end of eight hours or twelve hours
tired toes, tired feet, tired hands and stress might prevail
Ready for the next day for same scenari
That's the Emergency Nurses the way they are....
should be and must be
Heroes to some.
by Fulgencio Bearis
HAVE EVER THOUGHT WHICH IS BEAUTIFUL SUNSET OR SUNRISE?
Good morning Sun,
How many miseries took place at your rise?
How many mothers wept?
How many children lost their innocence?
How many lives were shattered by your rays?
The tears that wash the blood, and clean the streets,
The screams and moans of victims to your sight.
Were you prepared to witness such a sight?
How do you feel each time you rise?
Is it the same each single day?
Or did the time accustom you to all this pain?
So tell me Sun, how do you feel?
You shine the light on world as it decays,
You grant life, and watch it disappear
Is this the reason that one day you too will die?
Join the others someplace far away.
Or will you fight and hope to blind the ignorance, the hatred and the violence too?
It must be hard, isn’t it so?
Is this the reason that some days you disappear?
Hide behind the veils of clouds,
And wash the world with tears.
But still I hope that you’ll succeed,
And one day won’t have to disappear.
By: Dmitriy Kokarev Rizk
BEAUTY CUTS THE BEAUTIFUL AND ENHANCES IT TOO
The World is Beautiful Today
The world is beautiful today.
And I am so inspired by its beauty.
Some say it is all an illusion,
A reflection, just a memory.
But I say You are there in all that beauty
looking back at me.
You wanted me to know you love me,
So You created that mountain out my window.
Austere against a pale blue sky, it takes my breathe away.
Just like You do when I feel you near me.
Some say it is just so much matter encased in energy.
But I say You are there in every bit of it,
To inspire my poetry.
Every thing of beauty is
Your gift to me.
Every year I live to see it,is my year of jubilee.
To be enabled to look at a delicate flower and see,
Truly see, its fragile, incomparable beauty,
To see that for a moment
You were there,so close to me………melts all my indifference
And inspires my creativity.
I see You move the tree tops with
Your breath of inspiration.
Because I believe it is
You,I feel exaltation.
I see a golden eagle.
On Your breath he is soaring.
And I am lifted out of my earthly form
As the joy within me merges with him.
I see You in him and so I join
And the world is beneath me like a silver coin.
Somehow I am on it yet above it just like he
I am golden,I am silver,I am empowered,
I am free.
Some say the world is my dream,that
You are not here in it.
I say there is only
So all I see is Infinite.
by Connie Crane
You can see your best reflection in water
I am a broken mirror
I am a broken mirror,
Which was broken when you look.
There is a hidden rose in my heart,
And never laugh at me as a kook.
I am a broken mirror,
Where was broken in the nook.
No one knows me and my love,
And never looked my rose or took.
I am a broken mirror,
Just as a myth in the old book.
You never read it even in dream,
Never read a line even is a hook.
I am a broken mirror,
But show you complete even every part.
It'll show clear spring to you,
Forever show to you my broken heart.
by Abdul - rasheed Uyghurson
Hurry can spoil but steady can foil
Housework in a hurry
Poetry gets me in trouble
Nearly all the time
I put off doing my chores
And get caught up in rhyme
I lose track of time
Having wordy fun
She’s busy out at work
And nothing has been done
I forgot to clean
And dust about
When she gets in
She’s gonna shout
Instead of thinking
What clever thing to say
I should have been hovering
And putting the washing away
Rhyme is not a reason
For not tidying the house
And so this poem ends now
To please a tidy loving spouse
by Nik Morgan
Radio wavelengths can cross the deep most easily
If only I had cried in the rain
then maybe I would not have went insane
with a thousand and one looks
yours is all it takes
for the breath in my lungs to go away
I have not seen you yet
but I am waiting for that day
when the ground shakes
and the ocean boils
when birds fly to high in the sky
and all the love in my heart
blacks out the sky
your face well be my sun
when all others fade in the gloomy dark gray
of broken hearts ally way..
by Terry halvorson
We never change but its the seasons that...
A Lazy Summer’s Day
There’s no sound of anger or of annoyance,
There’re neither cars racing on the highway
Nor that highway for them to race on,
There’re neither kids chanting on the playground
Nor bells calling us to Christianity.
There’s neither the cracking of the sky
Nor the persistent rain pattering on my roof.
There’s no couple arm in arm to admire the magnificent view
There’re no drums to feed our ears
Nor sirens to steal the boredom away
There’s no unfamiliar wing creeping underneath the November afternoon
Nor floods to enshroud the thirsty grounds
The land lies lonely out here
On this lazy summer’s day
There’s no pollution to poison the airs
Nor forests to give them life
All I hear is the hushing sound of the wind
Assisting the sand to fall into beautiful undulations
by Stella Qishi
The circle from snow to water is one of the best comparisons of life
Sweet Snowdrop;you reached up to the sky
through winter's snow,and now you have bloomed
you gently bow your head to earth.
What did you see?I lift your pure white blossom
and find green and gold
drawing my eyes to your centre;
so still; unfolding all your beauty.
And having reached for the stars
you now bow your head to earth.
Sweet Snowdrop;what did you find
such that you are now speechless,
have no need to reach up high,
and just gaze upon the earth in awe?
by David Taylor
Who were the real Aryans is still a mystery
Pre-Semiotic Ranges Of Aryan Purity
In different classes of Hindu-India's scriptures,
Both of Vedic as well as of popular origin,
There are many instances of
Reference to one report about the expellation of
A certain uneducated and treacherous branch on
The tree of renowned leading Aryan clan communities
,That over the generations had turned exceedingly vicious
And unbearingly annoying inasmuch as,
Disrespecting the country's mainstream harmony & order
Due to an ignorant adventurism on their parts,
They had usurped for own egotistic schemes
Powers from magical rites of their ancestral mother tribe's sacred lore,
That they came to wield in unruly manner,
Threatening to all forms of life.
Throughout various sources the reports on
That instant are burnished up into striking descriptions that
Vary slightly only in the minor details.
There was a forceful expatriation imposed on the Daanavas, on
A class of what later on by erudite British Christian missionaries
Had been termed in their own translations as'demons',
and, who were,Indeed, viewed & experienced by ancient
Jambu Dvipa'sPrevailing leading seers and their populaces as
A world of wild antipodes recilient to
Their system of peace & order.
That certain tribe of 'demons' referred to here
Had been named in all Hindu scriptures as
The tribe of Daanavas.
Now,By following up on most ancient appellations of
Rivers and places all along the geographical route, in
Direction of which the tribe in question,
Expelled more or less 5000 - 7000 years ago
From the land of their forefathers, must have
Taken on their flight, the said
Mythological tales find themselves
Validified in real-time historical context
With the following conjecture proposing itself.After the cursed parting of the leaders of the
Dreaded vicious fraternal clans, the latter,Betaking themselves in Occidental directions,
Wended their ways passing onwards
Farther & farther away from all the lands with
Ancient Aryan fire-sacrificers, such as
The Persian Zoroastrians or sun-worshipers of old,
Until they eventually reached areas surrounding
The Caspian and Black seas, which but
Had been populated strongly from times
Prior to their arrival
By various other powerful tribes,Such as by Scythes and Hunns, for the most notorious ones,
So that in the end the oncoming Daanavas
Had yet been forced to
Keep on moving further on westwards
While looking for new land to be taken as their own.
It was in the far expanses of virgin forests of
The upper stream of the river Danube only, that
Eventually they had found free land for a homestead, where
They could set up a scheme of rulership of their own device
.The name they came to call
The river along the banks of which they resettled was
The name they had once themselves been known by
Before they left from ancient Jambu Dvipa,
From the lands of modern India -the Daanava,
Europe's longest river, the Danube,the 'Donau' - as it is known in all German dialects of
The modern-day off-spring of those Daanavas,
A chief branch of all tribes in the heart of Europe
Eversince having populated what later on in time had come to be
Known as Germany, the country of the men
With lances called 'ger' ready to wield.As an example of the degree of
Relatedness of Alemannic stock that live
Along the outskirts of river Danube and
Those tribes of erstwhile same ancestral
Lineage that had ever happily remained
Back in good old India may serve
The following sample of striking linguistic similitude:
There is one word in the German language that
In southern dialects is being pronounced as something
like'Tsama-shleeasa' (Zusammenschliessen in proper German spelling) , that
Aside from almost its same pronunciation, also has the same meaning
In both modern-day German and the Sanskrit of the ancient
Inhabitants of Jambu Dvipa, where it was spelled as 'samshlesha' -
Its meaning in both cases
Through times and distances being
'The linking-up of all components and parts of
Any intricate functional system
For the purpose of being in command of its control system'.
In Germany of today the term is being
Applied to denote the setting up of an electronical system.
Whereas in ancient Jambu Dvipa the term was
Used to denote the setting up of
The mind-frame of a practitioner of yoga
Connecting the individual with the cosmic mind.
by LangErhard Hans Josef Lang
Can a leaf posses wisdom? Yes only when it is taken as a comparison
On a wonderful, gorgeous day,
Under a graceful old tree I lay.
The sun burned on its mosaic crown
hued green and gold and brown.
Chameleon clouds - fluffy, lacy drapes
tattooed the sky with their enchanting shapes.
In a muddy pond, cattle and men together bonded,
With genuine affection each to the other responded.
A soft wind wafted in from the west,
Leaves rustled which till now were at rest.
The aging brown ones drifted slowly down
Like blemished jewels ripped off the crown.
New young leaves sniggered in vernal greenery;
With disdain they scoffed the 'oldies' in the tree.
"Oh! Our style they cramp and our beauty they mar!
Merciful wind, blow these 'ancients' away and afar.
"A mellow gold leaf heard their snorts and laments,
Knowingly she smiled at their hurtful comments.
"Don't revel in evanescent youth, listen to our story,
We also were once the tree's crowning glory.
Time does not spare, nor age ever forgive!
The freshness of spring will fade while you live.
Autumn will enfold you in her wilting embrace,
None, oh none, can escape her withering grace.
So be tolerant of us drooping old dears,
Give us our due in our dying years.
The compassion you show to others today
Will flow back to comfort you another day."
by Shernaz Wadia
Make the floating thoughts sail.
TOO LONG ALONE
If you find this, don’t read it… it’s not for you.
Is this how it’s supposed to be?
My life on the edge of infinity.
There is nobody around me,
And in my room there is no sound…
I hate it when nobody’s around.
I see companions here, I meet them there,
But they’re not mine,
Or I them,
Why is that so,
Now I live in a world that’s cold as snow.
I’m not as young anymore, ’
They all say there’s time,
but I know very different,
my hearts moving beyond it’s prime.
To have someone close now seems a mystery,
A seeming travesty of my kin,
all lonely as forest shadows
Even when morning lights peer the dim.
But then, … a companion is still new ground.
We all must learn,
To forgive and take punches
As if love was reason found.
Am I sad?
Beyond all words,
If I cry now it will flood all worlds,
My mom’s, my dad’s…my sis,
…all my friends…
besides…I just ran out of towels.
I look at life with all its promises,
Now darkened by despair,
I longed to have someone in my arms,
Even glad if any was near.
Can I continue?
That question already answered,
But surely not by me…
But by a sad trail of love songs,
And a lonely trail of travesties
I live now because there’s no choice,
My life an awaiting stream,
I loved, then lost, then hoped,
Now my present, envelops an empty dream.
I hate all this,
I died again today,
Has the sun has arisen once more?
For my heart within all it’s wishes,
Finds only shadows and decay in store
I don’t know how to love,
But I remembered how to dream,
For all the love that’s lost
Reminds me again what that means.
I don’t want you around me,
Don’t even dare come close,
I’ve had my whole life to hurt you,
Now please let me recluse.
One day I will marry,
I hope she’s a queen,
I hope she’ll stay with me’
But even that has not been seen.
If tomorrow comes,
I will praise the Lord,
I feel the sun sometimes,
Although now, I only can see Its rays dimly lit
lying within a fjord,
Where am I now,
Please, let me tell…
No close family, friends or love…
…If my life be lifted from this hell,
It could only come from above.
Been hurt way too many times,
Seen my heart always on the floor,
Now I know no other way around,
I can only close a few more doors.
If I pass you along life’s twisted roads,
You might barely know it’s me,
I’m the one timidly passing by,
Looking at you with love…and infinity.
by H. Vaughn McCubbin
Imagination is the most stressful job
The Wild Beast
Lost alone in the forest,
I came upon a beast
A wild animal from the west.
It stared at ‘me’ its feast.With large fierce eyes
Bellowing…it charged at me
I smiled at it-that heavy size
Suddenly it stopped & touched me
I looked into its eyes…
Which seemed to burst any moment.
I embraced,The beast cried , astonished!
It wept away its beastly nature
Now clear and kind,
His eyes signaled submission
I beckoned, he followed
We walked back home
He lead me across the forests…
I told him what he was not,
Passed him all my love..
And so did he!My home welcome us,
But the beast was nowhere seen !
Instead I walked into the halls of ‘living’-knowledge!
With another human being!
by Apurva Iyengar, India
We have heard about mother Nature but have we ever thought about mother divine?
. A SONG FOR MOTHER DIVINE~
O Mother Divine
Bless me with your mercy please
Running wayward in my life
Always bound in some strife
Your fallen son am I -My heart's ever ill-at-ease.I have no mantra to recite
Nor any ritual do I know
I can only call Your name
And with heart before You bow
O Mother Divine
I know not how to sing Your glories
I'm tormented by the Mahish
Of senses lodged within me
O Mother come and slay the demon -From his trappings set me free
At Your will the cosmos runs
Shine all stars moons and suns
O Vital Force
Endless are Your mysteries
O Mother Divine I know for sure
Your fallen son You won't abjure
Nor shall Your helping hand retreat
O Mother Divine let me be
A speck in the dust of Your lotus-feet.
by Sunil Uniyal
A THING OF BEAUTY CURES EVERYTHING BUT MOTHER'S CURE CAN'T BE SUBSTITUTED
Mother-A cure for every wound
She is the luminosity of the outlook of her child,
And remove the hazardous nervousness and make them mild,
Her glamorous skim can swab away the anxiety,
And can bring radiant on the faceless casualty.
She has the astuteness to intensify their fuzzy forth coming,
By giving a bounteous heed and humble understanding.
She obviously occupies the state of eulogy and fray,
Her assurance can assist them and hinder when they go astray.
Her ardent nature has no juxtaposition,
Her amity has the right to arrant berate in her trepidation situation.
At last she tops in being forbearance,
She had to do it just for the child’s impending revere
by Ameera Aidrus
Take life this way as the mount below.It seems so easy to reach that far point but there are limitations
Life’s no win!!
Life’s no win,
Or is it?
Too much heat burns
Too much cold freezes
Too much water drowns you
And no water kills you
A poor man sleeps with a hungry stomach
A rich man don’t sleep at all
It is interesting for rich people to see how poor people live
It is also interesting for poor people to see how hard rich people work
Time is a healer
Time is a killer
And lifeIs no win!!
by Koketso Marishane
Sailors sail in the dark, in the light just for a descent life
Oh sailor of the seas
Oh sailor of the seas
Do you know how it feels
To catch your fish an
’Accomplish your mission
To you its tides and winds that come in your way
To me its my laziness that won’t go away
With god watching above you your boat will gently sway
I hope my life will go’ on exactly the same way
Excitement is something we both have in common
But you might experience it even more often
Danger is something I am not familiar with
Because of my family and friends its just a myth
I do get into trouble sometimes
When I do stuff at the corner of people’s eyes
But when it comes to the end
The fish you have caught;
The victory I have got,
Is worth it all to the very last bend.
by Amani Bhogadi
The only way to turn bads into goods is to relate them with aesthetics
Bloody cross--Inspired by Passionate of Christ
Bloody of the flamboyant of sunset
Bloody of the dusky peak
Bloody of the giant cross
Bloody of the track in front and back
Cross the bigger ride on you the smaller
Cross the stronger ride on you the weaker
Saliva and curse from different mouth
Can’t dirty and frighten you
As the whipping
Can’t the hurt and harm you
Ah, my lord
Angel you are but nobody respects
Prophet you are but no one believes
But what your suffered is all witted by Father
And every bloody track drive you nearer to the Heaven
“Since you are son of god ,why can’t you help yourself?
”Laughter broke out from their ignorant
But you still smile in return and beg mercy for them
Hatred kills your life
But your love kills hatred
They beat you to death
But you bless them in return
No groaning from mouth
As well as no complaint from your heart
Tears driven by seeing what you suffered
While smile on your face for forgive all with love
by Warlik Augustus
Does a seed develop into trees always?
TALES OF TWO SEEDS
I will enter deep down to grow
And my root in the soil bow
My stem I spread within the loamy reach
So my bought trunk shall in depth breach
Then I’ll let out my branchy foliage
On it I’ll display my flowers in cleavage
So my offspring be born bountifully
To serve mankind generously
My foliage for man’s cover
And my branches for birds’ shelter
SO SAID THE MUSTARD SEED
I shall not take a fool’s risk
Rather my smooth body about I’ll frisk
I wont dare the darkness of the deep
Nor my eyes uncertainties to peep
For if roused my root will be broken
And my stem on spread-spree will be smoken
Neither shall my body be scorched by the sun
Nor unstable seasons my life run
An my branches to great to house little brood
SO BOASTED THE NUT SEED
And so resoluted in unison resolve
Therefore, there and then they’re destined
Each granted as wished and willed
Both prospered as prospected
The mustard in manifold manifested
The nut natured as nurtured
Now fortune telling lies with time
Which will be well of the wishes
Then one day scratched up a squirrel
The naughty nut from its niche
AND IT A RELISH OF MORNING MEAL.
by Ifedayo oshin
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