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Paradise

Fun in the sun
with our feet in the sand
enjoy life as time goes by
picturing life where no one cries

a place of piece
relaxing and a time
filled with eats
a place where
west and east meet
a place where bloods
and creeps sit down to eat

times worry me as i reminisce
we have lost to many brothers
for it to stay like this
dressing in black every week
makes the heart of a man weak

so as i gaze out into the ocean blue

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poem by Robert Roberts
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Good Fellows

Between the lines
Disastrous wreaked havoc somewhere
Confusion alarming and future has broken into pieces
Back-off and meditate if possible
Before you cross the line
Retention of hopes is still alive
Turning back discreetly is not an option
You can run but you cannot hide
Tell tales sign of a hunter will hunt you
Till you dropp dead
The other end of the line is dark and gloom
With so many exits to go
But you’ll comeback to face the devils
Thirsts for your bloods
You are given choices
Not to cross the line
But you’re lost
Greed and impatience has taken your lives

poem by Sulaiman Mohd Yusof
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Under The Pleasure Of Snow

Under the snows fallen by the wind and rain
A little man of grateful beams of light has emerged;
His visions powerfully strut and perform an escape
From the endangering isle of a great weather and might.

Understand their talk and allegiances, many bloods
Concur and result, towards the essence of a prison,
To dissolve in wastes and ink of the better sort:
One finally admits the cold weather arriving.

From the face of pleasure evolves a real moral value,
It subsists and sustains the living
To be frightful and kind,
A kind being of strength shall believe and form a value.

poem by Naveed Akram
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Lynton Verses

Sweet breeze that sett'st the summer birds a swaying,
Dear lambs amid the primrose meadows playing
Let me not think!
O floods, upon whose brink
The merry birds are maying,
Dream, softly dream! O blessed mother lead me
Unsevered from thy girdle — lead me! feed me!
I have no will but shine;
I need not but the juice
Of elemental wine—
Perish remoter use
Of strength reserved for conflict yet to come!
Let me be dumb,
As long as I may feel thy hand—
This, this is all—do ye not understand
How the great Mother mixes all our bloods ?
O breeze! O swaying buds!
O lambs, O primroses, O floods!

poem by Thomas Edward Brown
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Crimson Christmas

Joshua's annual descent
vitiates his invisible ubiquity,
paved paths prepared,
proliferate the sublime scandal

when eclectically appropriable
in the wafer austere
as in the bottle hedonist,
omnipotence at frailty's mercy

proffers a banquet unwieldy,
reverently relished in the wafer,
boisterously in the bottle
bacchanalian bosoms bustle him:

they spurn his Utopia intangible,
evacuating the visible bounty
on the swift surreal speed
of their brimful quadruped coffin

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poem by Oluchukwu Ifechukwu
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Coroner's Day

A torn shirt smeared in red
On the table calmly sleeps the dead
Strewn around are organs and the heart
Incredible to imagine them as the departed’s part!
Useless as they are now experimental blocks
Drained of life heedless to the clocks
No love no emotion in the cold dim room
Is living natural or more so is doom?
Reeking of the dead eerie scissors sweep
One by one they cut strong and deep
Dismembering the lover cutting through the brave
But no show of courage when the abode is grave!
Drying bloods of passion drip from the dead
The once living corpse on the table goes fade
With no words or voice feelings blown away
He could at last make the coroner’s day!

poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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The Condolence

O my fellow sufferers, songs of my youth,
A lot of asses praise you because you are 'virile',
We, you, I! We are 'Red Bloods'!
Imagine it, my fellow sufferers
Our maleness lifts us out of the ruck,
Who'd have foreseen it?

O my fellow sufferers, we went out under the trees,
We were in especial bored with male stupidity.
We went forth gathering delicate thoughts,
Our ‘fantastikon’ delighted to serve us.
We were not exasperated with women,
for the female is ductile.

And now you hear what is said to us:
We are compared to that sort of person
Who wanders about announcing his sex
As if he had just discovered it.
Let us leave this matter, my songs,
and return to that which concerns us.

poem by Ezra Pound
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Art of Heart

It craves air, it bloods life
It beats love, it breeds lust
Radiates hope, coagulates hate
Heart is the border of beauty and the beast

The flying balloon, the floating bubble
The flower blossoms, the fire blows
The assorted sweets, the shredded cheese
Heart is a bowlful of feeling

The tear of smile, the kiss of word
The honest hug, the hint of caress
The sting of warmth, the tender ache
Heart is the thing to be touched

Cold and frail, innocent and blind
Crazy and clumsy, wild and shy
Broken but stubborn, lost but liar
Heart is never ending drama

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poem by Maria Sudibyo
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The Rulers

Who are these Kings, Queens and Rulers
that we see?
And what makes them any better than you or me?

Did our God create them to rule over men
and if He did then why, how or when?
No, I say this God I don't perceive.
We have created them. This I believe.
We acquiesed quietly, giving our consent.
My God did not make us to be subservient.

I believe way back in our history's past
something evil occured to make this last.
And so it continues right up to today
and the masses accept it as if it's fair play.
And who are these blue-bloods that conquer and rule?
These are not leaders They are too cruel.

These are the Kings, Queens and Rulers that we see.
And there's not a one of them

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poem by Edwina Reizer
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Forest Of Fire

We are in the land, with the same sand.
We breathe the same air, with our lungs.
The war broke in east, it is not far.
They have built wall and constructed bar.
Killing and bleeding the assassins they hire.
Turning into ashes, its forest of fire.

War in this life, miserable and chaotic time.
Reason of power, they bleed over the lime.
House of tent, Canopy of bombs and bloods.
Many have been killed, still it flood.
Burning flames are into our desire.
Turning into ashes, its forest of fire.

Beauty and ugly or Black and white.
Its natural, we share same light.
Trembled in fear, we here thy babel.
Wretched in war, makes us all nibble.
Running away far, we climbed more higher.
Turning into ashes, its forest of fire.

poem by Diplove gautam
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