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 Dec 2014 Bibhu
Jesse Madison
Give me your hands dear
and ill show you a new world
a world of color
 Oct 2014 Bibhu
Amanda In Scarlet
Take a soft tipped brush
Dip, and trace my nakedness;
Viscous dripping rainbow streams
Clothe me here within our dreams.
Swirl my curves
With satin pink,
Let your brush flutter and sink
lower, purples, red and blue,
I'm a canvas here for you.
Paint me scarlet, paint me gold,
Paint some words
italic, bold
Stop when you begin to weep
A masterpiece, for us to keep.
An old one of mine, a favourite.
 Oct 2014 Bibhu
Sal Gelles
MOMMY DEAREST*
sadly,
you killed everyone in your head
including the loving person i knew,
growing up with a best friend
that ended up being my mother,
and the past twelve years i watched
as you died and the heartbreak
you caused all who loved you
and by denying the help they gave you
by denying the help you needed
to accept reality the way *we
have to,
and so as you've killed us all
and isolated yourself to the point
that i'd had to write your eulogy,
for you couldn't accept your life's detachment
from everyone, ties you severed yourself,
and that me being the only one left
left me with no choice
but to bury you six feet deeper
than the demons i created on my own
because I can't take care of yours too
in the fifth circle of hell
after I've escaped purgatory senses
and discovered my freedom's as a man.
I hope they can forgive you and you can get your wings.
I'll cry harder this year watching It's A Wonderful Life alone when that bell rings.
 Oct 2014 Bibhu
Ocean Blue
A secret
 Oct 2014 Bibhu
Ocean Blue
Please, come closer
I wish to feel you near
So I can whisper
Something in your ear.
Three little words I call a secret,
A commitment I don't dare to say
But if you press on my heart
You'll feel it anyway.
 Mar 2014 Bibhu
Nat Lipstadt
The excerpt below is from an interview Philip Roth gave to Daniel Sandstrom, the cultural editor at Svenska Dagbladet, for publication in Swedish translation in that newspaper, and in its original English in the Book Review of the New York Times (March 1, 2014).

It was laid out in normal article (paragraph) form, but I chose to re-present here, line by line, sentence by sentence, for it struck me as I first read it, as a prose poem, and a source of inspiration for me.  But then I realized, I could not improve upon his words, just risk diminishing them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“The struggle with writing is over” is a recent quote. Could you describe that struggle, and also, tell us something about your life now when you are not writing?

Everybody has a hard job.
All real work is hard.
My work happened also to be undoable.
Morning after morning for 50 years,
I faced the next page
defenseless and unprepared.
Writing for me was a feat of self-preservation.
If I did not do it, I would die.

So I did it.
Obstinacy, not talent, saved my life.
It was also my good luck that
happiness didn’t matter to me
and I had no compassion for myself.
Though why such a task
should have fallen to me I have no idea.
Maybe writing protected me
against even worse menace.

Now?
Now I am a bird sprung from a cage
instead of (to reverse Kafka’s famous conundrum)
a bird in search of a cage.
The horror of being caged has lost its thrill.
It is now truly a great relief,
something close to a sublime experience,
to have nothing more
to worry about than death.
-------------------------------------------------------------­--­---

http://www.nytimes.com/2014/03/16/books/review/my-life-as-a-writer.html?_r=0
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 Nov 2013 Bibhu
Nat Lipstadt
Consanguinity: A Commissioned Poem
(How Well Do
You
Know Me?)


This request, from wolf spirit aka quinfinn, accidentally hit the spot of what was foremost on my mind.

Cosanguinity:  A relationship by descent from a common ancestor; kinship (distinguished from affinity).  A close relationship or connection.

Poetry, mine, yours,
Ours,
Invades my consciousness.

We write poems on the same subject,
Even the same title,
But a few days apart.

Insanity,
Coincidence,
or
Consanguinity?

Perhaps we are reading each other's stuff
Too much.

But that's crazy,
Or
Consanguinity?

Yet,
And yet,
We see the same things
So incredibly different.

That is the answer.
We see the same thing and I am
Struck down.

A billion sights.
A billion words.
Yet, the human computer,
Sorts, collates, and generates
A billion different writes
In a similar spirit,
Employing the same phraseology.

All right.

Alright.

Malaysia.
Minnesota.
East Coast.
West Coast.
Geographical differences.
Time differences.

No difference.
A billion differences.
The stylistic differences enable,
No, correction,
Ennobles us to coexist,
Value each other,
Learn.

Observable differences.
But more interesting,
More pleasurable,
are the incredible, visible, signs of
Consanguinity.
Mere affinity?
Kinship.

A poem?
Nah.
But at 1:11am in my location,
It's what's on my mind.
Now that I know the meaning of
Consanguinity.
Somehow in my mind these two poems are linked.


Place your ****** hands upon thy chest.
Let them melt thru and come to rest,
Inside, the battle ongoing, under thy breast.
Watch, eyes open, knowing, fearful.
Swiftly, with no hesitation, from within,
Rip open your body, exhaling the best,
And the worst of what you got.

The cool air rushes in,
Stirring the inside stew of:
Infected grime, shameful desires,
Secrets that should not have been exposed,
The ***** stuff that you alone know exists.

Contact with the atmosphere makes
Self-pity dies, blue blood turn red,
The TNT tightness explodes,
Ashamed, you have only one escape hatch.

Now, you are ready to write.
June 18
 Nov 2013 Bibhu
Megan James
Classic clouds clear through the night
Whispering a lullaby

As I look into those deep green eyes
Singing as the sheep pass by

Brushing my face with tiny fingers
You melt me with your sweet linger

Curled up in a warming blanket
Your skins aroma leaves a peaceful essence

Rosette lips pucker close
As I give you my deepest affection

Laying you down next to my heart
Where you will stay even after we part

Dreaming of a dream that you will never leave
This is our bed time routine

Good night my sweet angel , I love you to pieces.
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