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The Light In The Tigers Eyes

Sometime I cannot imagine the difference
Between you and the blackest night
You know those nights when only tigers stalk
And lie waiting for the sound of your breath
The faintest reflecting backlight is in their eyes
So I can only say one thing in your defence
You have laid with tigers
You have their scent
You know how they stalk and what they sense
I do not
And so I am terrified to lay in the thicket
And wait
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Have you seen a tigers foot
Stare at it soft and silent
Able to tread with no sound
On the leaf strewn floor of its jungleI
It can kill quickly without fuss and song
Except of course for its victims
Noises of dying

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poem by Geoffrey Fafard
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Tumbleweed Roundup

The posse had gathered
in the emptiest part of town.
Even the dust looked bored.
It was not like there was
enough sentencing to go round
to make a paragraph.
Maybe the Indian Wars
would finally steamroller the pioneers.
All that learnin' foa what?
The Community wanted a lynching
before they knew who did it.
Thankyou for your narrative interest in this position
but we regret to inform you...
Mixed or miffed genres
the Sheriff knew he was up against it -
maybe today he'd name his target, but
no, he wasn't to show his hand
until well after midnight, at which time
the intruder would have left holding nothing
but a kitchen sink -

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poem by Adam Aitken
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A Life In The Day

A Life In The Day

Up before the pride sets in, darkness crawls and twists,
devils of the mind erupt, bind you by the wrists.
Feed them in the dead of night, watch the road, for life,
hum a song you’ve never heard, yet craft it with a knife.

Speak them human, bow their space, treat as crown and King,
multiply each passing fear, then let the mountains sing.
Try to keep what’s sane pretence, locked within your head,
argue sanity’s not real, fight for living’s thread.

Count those numbers, four, three, two, once upon a time,
Cinderella to the ball, staking out her crime,
all this place for fairy tales, whipped behind, back then,
wonder what inspires you now, cats and wine, not men.

Victim for a daytime scam, smile and wait and smile,
not quite sure the tanner’s dropped, on a crooked stile.
Normality is packed away, boxed inside the trap,

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poem by Jerry Pike
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After all

Mixtures of ill feelings and hatred
Life is full of misery and to be lead
To look after all as family head
Their likings and disliking clearly to be read

It is plight of common man
He may try to perform whatever he can
He has lust for odysseys water
Not all the wishes can be catered

Either to escape from the responsibility
Or to express the helplessness or inability
It is not good sign or best quality
At the end one can feel only pity

What about men living in the streets?
Wishing to ask so many questions when we meet?
What is he to do when there is no other alternative?
What is he expected to perform as native?

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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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We Have Lost

We have lost the body and soul
In every aspect it is smelt as foul
Where two square meals is reality!
The struggle has lost its teeth and quality

What reason can you give for up rising?
What have you to say for when promising?
Gone where the days when people offered voluntarily
Came out in open with chest for bullets readily!

Now men in street have come to know about the futility
The hollow words, false promises and behavior of poor quality
It is not the same time when leaders were found selfless
Speak of same value and stand for no duality on face

What do we have then as an easy option?
It is quite difficult to go for an adoption
The moral value is eroded and is for name sake
In depth study has revealed so much value at stake

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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Lost In Childhood

Man doesn’t stop acting like child
Basically an animal but at heart very mild
Get all the excitations when see a small kid
Start feelings of an infant and try to lead

It is nice and worries free stage
All kind of thoughts pour in any age
Remain ever green and get boost at family gathering
Happiness and joy among members for sharing

So there lives small child at your heart
This one has been deliberately put by Him as part
As an age grows, person tends to become small boy
All sorts of naughtiness when look at children playing with toys

You never get matured with any kind of advancement
One may have lot more to remember and resent
Yet that stage is considered as divinely as heaven
Any one may want to be lost in dreams and driven

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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Rise of nationalism

I witness the rise of nationalism
Sometimes it is mixed with regionalism
Far cry is heard for rights violation and humanism
If I sincerely admit then it lacks proper mechanism

How does it vitiate international understanding?
Compromise of principles and unholy bonding
War crime perpetuators are give patronage
All sorts of encouragement is given to increase the bondage

How come we fail to hear the cry of Afrikaners?
How are they killing their own brethren as sinners?
We merely watch the butcher’s game and mutely observe
We have only weapons but no food and medicines to serve

Let the religious sentiments be buried under the earth belt
Its necessacity in life is must and very much felt
No one can claim purity on the ground of religious supremacy
We have only two hands to rise for blessings and mercy

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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Pretty Darned Smart

She was quiet and shy, a naive little thing
An invisible girl, a puppet on a string
Sleepwalking through life

No big plans, goals, or dreams
She didn't feel special, or pretty, or smart
But when she was alone, she would sing from her heart

Her voice was pleasant, but no one ever knew
And neither did she, she hadn't a clue
She had two older sisters, and they all shared a room

With bunk beds, in a room, that was designed just for two
As the youngest of three, she'd no bed of her own
Yes it's true, though not fair, what's a little sister to do

But....In this rectangular two-sister-bedroom's far corner
Was the door to a storage room, just the right size for one boarder
Where an old metal bed, abandoned by older brother

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poem by DonnaJ York
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On Poverty

Poverty savours bitter,
So it is a thing unwished,
Upon whom it invades,
Makes them utterly worthless.

Sheet by sheet taking off,
It exposes inner of man,
Making naked, brings out,
Deformities and spots heinous,
Abhorrent, full of disgust.

Brothers, sisters and relations,
Who once heartening embraced,
Sneer, jeer full of hate,
Pointing out thousand faults,
Break all bonds of propinquity.

The world becomes a cage,
The life hard punishment,
Where a moment stretches,

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poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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A strong union

I was dismayed to look at lovely bond
Even birds are making love noise and are very fond
They may be sky bound but come down
To meet and see the family of their own

Is it not natural phenomenon to feel attached?
In real time, eyes roam over and get searched
They find out the most beautiful object
To be liked and absolutely with no chance to reject

To desire of such things is not at all guilt
This is divine feeling and always inbuilt
You will never hate a person
But look forward to him with some solid reasons

Even two staunch enemies meet and embrace
This is beautiful combination to face
Complete hatred is vanished in matter of seconds
What a magic for lovely feelings to end?

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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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