Category Archives: Poem – Not Written By Me Though
Light in a time of darkness.
Maestro please. ￼
A masterpiece. ￼
Lightning that strikes ￼￼the core perfectly.
A thunderous clap.
Clouds stream in quickly.
Raindrops race down, cooling everything.
Such a perfect melody.
conducted perfectly. ￼
All while the world continues to gravitate￼ harmoniously.
By Riya Bhatia | Featured Contributor
Note from Author: This was written when I was experiencing one of my worst anxiety attacks. Instead of running away from it, I decided to embrace it and use my words as a means of understanding myself better.
* * *
My breath trembles
as the room seems to be
consuming my soul,
The walls are closing in
and my thoughts are
consuming me whole,
Sweat and tears
dim the shine
and rosiness of my face,
And all they can say
is keep picturing yourself
in a better place,
I’m crippled with fear
and can’t think
beyond this second,
How do I move on
and when will this ever end,
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
Hold it for a few seconds.
It’ll be alright,
The day will get better
and the sun will shine bright.
My heart starts to race
as tears stream down…
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If I may?
In Memoriam Kevin Michael Davis
Doors at Chaco Canyon photograph by Kevin Davis (2/16/1982 – 7/21/2010)
“The Framing” a poem by Richard Brenneman
This is the anniversary of our son’s death in Poughkeepsie, New York from cancer ten years ago. This is always a sad day for Ethel, I, and our daughters, Sonja Bingen and Mary Wood, every year. This blog was started in honor of Kevin, who was a wonderful web designer, photographer, artist, and poet. This year we are publishing one of Kevin’s most iconic photographs, a doorway found at the Chaco Canyon ruins in New Mexico, and Richard Brenneman’s wonderful poem about the photograph, remembering someone who was deeply, deeply loved.
by Richard Brenneman
Ekaphrastic poem celebrating the Kevin Davis photograph, “Doors at Chaco Canyon”
I Picture this -- seen through the lens of a camera; eye sighting perfectly this line of…
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Not to mention the woman. Hmmm.
Still a mighty poetic cry nevertheless.
Langston Hughes, 1936. Photo by Carl van Vechten
July 4th, 2020
For the last 2 or more decades of my life, this day is a reminder to me, personally, of all America is not.
The other 364 days of the year, we unconsciously (or maybe we’re semi-aware based on our citizenship status) enjoy the many things America, our home, offers us. Especially if we compare our country to other nations that have even more injustice, political unrest, and violence against their citizenry within their borders.
I maintain this: until there is Justice for All, there is no justice.
Until institutionally-sanctioned violence of every kindis acknowledged, examined, addressed and redressed, always striving toward attaining the best possible equity at every end of the spectrum for the individuals who make up our society, then our society, as a whole, will never know freedom or peace.
Below, a poem by Langston…
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Let us hope we can transform the non-digital world into such a place for ourselves and our children. We have the key. We are the key. We have only to begin removing the lock.
Hidden inside my computer
Is my sweet virtual home
Each one takes me to friends’ home
To their world of stories, poems, photography
I feel so comfortable here
I am accepted here
My writing is accepted here
However boring, full of mistakes it may be
My friends are so encouraging
So kind and understanding
They are full of praise, appreciation
They make you feel important
They help enhance your self-esteem
No one is here to judge you
To make fun of you
I feel as if I have known them all my life
It’s an escape from the Problems of life
Maybe for an hour or more
But it’s relieving
Word count- 114
Death is nothing at all.
It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Nothing has happened.
Everything remains exactly as it was.
I am I, and you are you,
and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it…
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A million and one ways to say I love you
But none seems to suit you.
I’d go down on my knees for you,
But that’s too cliched.
You deserve something more intricate,
Something original, just as you are.
I’d promise you a life time,
But that would be the greatest lie.
For neither you nor I,
Know what the future holds.
I’d say I’ll keep you happy,
But I’ve let you down too many times.
And as much as I’d try,
I’d don’t trust myself.
I’d say you’re the reason I smile,
But you’re also the reason I cry.
You’ve hurt me like no one else,
We’ve had good days and bad days.
I’d write you a poetry,
But words are too less to describe you.
I’d give you a bouquet of roses,
But that would just dry away.
So darling, can you just read my eyes?
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