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 Apr 2017 Tony Luna
Jason L Rosa
Our playlist is
the best love songs
that helped voice words
we needed spoken.
Tis but a dream I scream I scream
My body weak and weary

I lay in bed with throbbing head
And thoughts dark and dreary

I sing the song, What's wrong? What's wrong?
Am I left forgotten?

This be said, face turn red
Stomach spoiled and rotten

Demons spawn, be gone, be gone
As they take my breath

Be pearly gate or hell as fate
I've come to my death
I wrote this when I was 13 years old for a creative writing class.
 Apr 2017 Tony Luna
Gidgette
We are but art
Our words
Falling in love but a thousand times daily
No less than worded Geisha
Black Butterflies to flutter the ears
Dark diamonds to dazzle the eyes
Though we lie and hope
Hope for dryer setting normality
It may break even our own hearts,
that we so desire all that can NEVER
be attained
We live in shadows of shimmering dreams
We may write for you, speak for you, display our talents
Flutter our blackened wings
But we can never really be touched
Our dark diamonds slice flesh and dreams
We can never love more than page and pen
Causing hurricanes with a mere fluttering of a black wing
We love
But never give ourselves
Only our words
We are poems unspoken
Black Butterflies
Dark Diamonds
Ladies of Poetry
Oh yeah! For all my Ladies of written heartbreak, insanity, tears, longing, hatred. My very own Bella Mafia! You. I love you. You've held my hand in cemeteries, whispered in my ear, let me cry on your shoulders, we have wandered through each other's dreams and nightmares. Thank you, my black butterfies, my dark diamonds.<3
 Apr 2017 Tony Luna
Dana Colgan
Sometimes you don't realise
that all these eyes just distract your mind
with sensations of being unaligned.
 Apr 2017 Tony Luna
Dana Colgan
Rise
 Apr 2017 Tony Luna
Dana Colgan
Blurry finds a place to close her eyes.
Head swells up with a demons lies.
Drowsy stops when the evil dies.
Body loosens up and begins its rise.
I reached out and held your hand.
"Mom...I'm pregnant"
I felt your grip loosen,
and I was afraid to meet your eyes,
wide with shock, with tears glistened.

You stood across from me,
arms folded, ready for my big news.
"Dad...I'm pregnant"
Your gaze fell and you wouldn't speak.
We both knew it was too soon.

"Congratulations, Miss McNabb.
You're pregnant!"
I know it's true and yet it seems so unreal.
Baby Lost...
...And Baby Reborn.
I don't know how to feel.
Excited of course,
the obvious choice.
But also scared, and maybe paranoid.
My little Oliver Sparrow never made it
out of the womb-
taken too soon.
I tried to forget the pain
but pain is much too real to be waived.

There is a baby inside of me.
I have seen it on the black and white screen.
I couldn't help the laughter that bubbled,
when I saw its little hiccups and kicks,
the way it seemed to dance inside.
I believe in my baby, I can't resist.
My baby is strong, that much I know,
just from seeing its dance-
almost like a restlessness to be free.
My baby is loved-
more loved than I could ever hope to be,
and yet I wish I had more, more, more love to give.

My baby is here, and real,
and so is my desire to be the best mommy.

Baby Lost...
...And Baby Reborn
 Apr 2017 Tony Luna
Valsa George
Realizing a fresh life growing inside,
What thoughts coursed through my mother’s mind?
Did she gleefully welcome the news?
Or respond to it with a violent shock?

So sure, right away after her fourth baby
With four little kids still needing care
Like chicks in a coop, carrying once again
Might not have been in her scheme of things

Thus at a time when she expected it the least,
Could she beckon the new life growing inside,
With a pleasant nod of head in assent
Or with a suppressed moan of fright, I wonder!

When from nausea she started to suffer
And threw up each time when she ate
Did she curse her man in silence?
Or grow mad with her children and her fate?

Slogging through those weary days
With no respite from her routine chores
Did she get enough rest or care?
Or did she languish without a hand to assist?

Seeing her with an extended waist line
Did some nosy neighbors behind her back
Teasingly utter in hushed whispers
‘Oh, she has done it again!’

Once when I started kicking inside
Was she tickled or greatly annoyed?
When she heard the first ‘lub- dub’ of my heart
Did she feel as two hearts singing in harmony?

As her tummy grew bigger everyday
And sleepless in bed as she tossed
Was she haunted by nightmares bleak?
Or was she visited by dreams of delight?

Travelling closer and closer to those final days
Did she curse herself seeing her in the mirror
Woefully bloated and ripened into a bulge
Or did she wait my arrival in blissful expectation?

Then suddenly one day when the earthquake began
In mild tremors first, then gaining in force
Did she scream mad or cry aloud?
Or did she endure the pain in austere silence?

Then abruptly when I showed myself up
Did she feel any remorse over my ***?
And see me as another liability
Added up to the girls already in line

No, I am sure she must have cuddled me close
And locked me in the warmth of her *****
For she was such a rare gift sent from heaven
A mother nonpareil in self effacing love
This poem, I thought would be interesting to many of you to have an idea of the cultural difference from country to country and to show how life was in the fifties and sixties for an average woman living in an Indian village

Being wife and mother, life was hardly easy for any woman in a patriarchal set up during those days. Child bearing was a routine affair and taking care of the children with none to help was her lot. Men who were the sole bread winners would be away at their place of work…! Even if at home, they hardly lend a helping hand. Girls were always marginalized and looked upon as a liability as they could be sent away in marriage only by giving huge amounts as dowry! Now things have changed and most of the women are employed and earning members!

  March 8th- when we celebrate the International Woman’s Day, I dedicate this poem to my dear mother whom I regard as a great woman and a paragon of love and care.
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