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A Flower To Auroville Mother-18

Vaadaamalli (Globe Amaranth, Gomphrena globosa)

Stiff and stern and sturdy a gem
Buttoned to a globular rhythm

An ideal of empurpled deep wonder
Gathered ball of a wisdom-gender

Symbol souvenir of sisterly passion
Selected for Nepali brother's affection

Decocted treat for a gripe infantile
Blog of bundle ever to beguile

Freshened femina, Vaadaamalli long
Freedom preaching in united throng

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poem by Indira Renganathan
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Codes Of Reality

Murky chambers secrete secret dealings
Bottomless splits havens precious pebbles
Discarded possessions suck the swarm
Kaput spirits deem in hush
Sopping souls resort in sorrow
Gripe outraged by graveness only is worn graciously by greatness
Confusion ignites the hellhole of war
Direness a chanted slogan of trepidation
Valor a bizarre fable to vagrants
Free will the hymn to rights
Reconciliation a legitimate line of attack to unity
Civilization strips way to modernity
Sorority, sagacity shall salt away humanity

poem by Iyamuremye Wilfred
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A gentle refresh...

let takes always
a vow, to refinish the
dirt coated in the clean skin
and gripe the
wisdom of your patience,
as the time counted the last day of
every smile desire

pray to the Lord that commitment
hold on to the tip toe of
slippery road of breathe, for the
world hurdle always the coming day of
the final judgment, before the
sitting of the sun

command the bosom heart
to what the heart wanting
to live; neither stops every dew to
fall in each day break than to
wait the meltdown cone

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poem by Antonio Liao
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Challenge.

For some to get out of bed is a challenge,
Or for simple necessary things they want to quit or revenge.
For some who jumps into look like impossible things,
Receives strength, more wisdom, enthusiasm and feeling of blessings.

It is up to your mood which one you choose,
Gripe & be unhappy or alive, calm and loose.
Everything is up to us what we do all day,
The best is to face our challenges with peace in mind all the way.

Do your best, but never blame others,
In reality everything is your own blunders,
Do your best, learn from your mistakes,
Be brave, do what needed to step through life's gates.

poem by LaSoaphia QuXazs
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A Letter To Love.

To love,
We feel you from the heart.
We feel you from the very start.
You gripe all our body part.
With us till death do we part?

To love,
We know you come from above.
Like an art that lives for long,
You keep us to feel strong.
Leave us to go on and on.

To love,
Don’t mind if I ask.
Because I feel bask.
So, are you human?
Tell me I need to understand.
Because the way you keep us away from elegy.
And at our downcast you give us energy.
Wow you are beautiful.

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poem by Chinwendu Ibeh
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Sonnet 86: Alas, Whence Come This Change Of Looks?

Alas, whence come this change of looks? If I
Have chang'd desert, let mine own conscience be
A still-felt plague, to self-condemning me:
Let woe gripe on my heart, shame load mine eye.

But if all faith, like spotless ermine lie
Safe in my soul, which only doth to thee
(As his sole object of felicity)
With wings of love in air of wonder fly,

Oh ease your hand, treat not so hard your slave:
In justice pains come not till faults do call.
Or if I needs, sweet Judge, must torments have,

Use something else to chasten me withal
Than those blest eyes, where all my hopes do dwell.
No doom should make one's heav'n become his hell.

poem by Philip Sidney
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Sonnet XIV: Alas, Have I Not

Alas, have I not pain enough, my friend,
Upon whose breast a fiercer gripe doth tire,
Than did on him who first stole down the fire,
While Love on me doth all his quiver spend,

But with your rhubarb words you must contend,
To grieve me worse, in saying that desire
Doth plunge my well-form'd soul even in the mire
Of sinful thoughts, which do in ruin end?

If that be sin which doth the manners frame,
Well stayed with truth in word and faith of deed,
Ready of wit and fearing nought but shame:

If that be sin which in fix'd hearts doth breed
A loathing of all loose unchastity,
Then love is sin, and let me sinful be.

poem by Philip Sidney
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Ode to the crow

Ode to the crow
that finds its way
to fly straight home
on this most terrible day.

Through gusts of wind it takes flight
through rain and storm
through dark and light.

We cower down at the sight of bad weather
and it lands when its done
not missing a feather.

We act as though the world revolves around us.
yet when the finger is pointed
all we do is gripe and fuss.

we set our traps of jealousy
to capture which we yearn most

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poem by Cameron Brooks
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Ode To The Crow

Ode to the crow
that finds its way
to fly straight home
on this most terrible day.

Through gusts of wind it takes flight
through rain and storm
through dark and light.
We cower down at the sight of bad weather
and it lands when its done
not missing a feather.

We act as though the world revolves around us.
yet when the finger is pointed
all we do is gripe and fuss.
we set our traps of jealousy
to capture which we yearn most
A white lie here and a grin of deciet
we are determined to make all
bow down at our feet.

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poem by Cameron Daniel Brooks
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Psalm 15

Characters of a saint.

Who shall inhabit in thy hill,
O God of holiness?
Whom will the Lord admit to dwell
So near his throne of grace?

The man that walks in pious ways,
And works with righteous hands;
That trusts his Maker's promises,
And follows his commands.

He speaks the meaning of his heart,
Nor slanders with his tongue;
Will scarce believe an ill report,
Nor do his neighbor wrong.

The wealthy sinner he contemns,
Loves all that fear the Lord;
And though to his own hurt he swears,

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poem by Isaac Watts
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