A Moonbeam's Shine - Hello Poetry

Jun 4

Pagan Paul

I am birthed from an egg in the forbidden land,
standing proud I stretch my arms out wide.
I open my eyes and open my heart,
emoting memories pour into my cold mind.
And the flames, and the flames and the sacred flames.
carry me out to the infinite stars of knowledge,
to where the Twin Goddesses of Truth
petition the serpent to deceive the future.
The barge of the Gone Forever sails past
and it bows its bows to the flail and the sceptre,
turquoise and gold with the face of millennia,
its image forever burnt into my countless lives.
I, Mighty One of Enchantment,
now fly from the shell that holds my long sleep
to the thirteenth direction of my smile.
And the flames, and the flames and the sacred flames.

I beseech and invoke, with secret Words of Power,
the hidden wisdoms of the ancient spell.
I scribe, weighing words in their charm
to call forth the Magic of the Dark Night.
And the flames, and the flames and the sacred flames
of he who abides throughout all time,
consume me with a thousand thousand names,
and make me the Lord of All Laws.
All Hail! to the girdle of the stars.
All Hail! to the secret glyphs.
Guide my journey through the eternal time
and take my Sphynx as your devoted sacrifice.
I, Mighty One of Enchantment,
now sail my boat of millions of years
to the thirteenth direction of my smile.
And the flames, and the flames and the sacred flames.

I posted half this poem before, but have written a second stanza so now posting the full version that will be recorded, added to a soundscape and released later this month.

#pyramid #spell #journey

Jun 4

Thomas W Case

Trips to the Cemetery

Mom took my brother and
I to the cemetery when
we were kids.
Her mother and grandma
were there underneath the
grass and dirt.
The spring breeze felt
good on my face.
We put carnations and
lilacs on all the graves.
She told us stories about
our dead relatives.
The tombstones, with the
dates seemed ancient and
final.

After flowering all the
graves, we went to
the pond and fed
the ducks and swans.
There was a fire in
their eyes.
They were always
hungry.
They gobbled the bread
and swam in circles.

When we became
teenagers, Mom took
us to the cemetery, and
taught us how to drive.
She said it was
safer there.
We couldn't ****
anyone.

Many years later
I took my little sons to
cemetery.
I showed them all
the graves and told
the old family stories.
"That's your grandma," I said,
pointing to the tombstone.
"She brought me here,
when I was your age."

My oldest son, Zach, who was
seven at the time said,
"When I get old,
I'm going to bring my kids
here to visit the family.
Will you come with us, Daddy?"
"Sure", I said.
Let's feed the swans.

Check out my you tube channel where I read from my recent book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems.
Here's a link.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W0-hHZ6O8u0

#death #family #life #memories

May 20

Cliff Perkins

Fractals

Nature finds a new design
Repeats it endlessly
Out of utter joy
Like a baby
With a new word

May 20

Pradip Chattopadhyay

Once Upon a Rain

The classroom window had a clear view of the park
and when the July clouds painted the sky dark
the boy would start to cry!

Why, the teacher exclaimed, why these tears
it's all so pleasant, and there's nothing to fear
the rain is so welcome, it does only good
so why boy it finds you in such bitter mood!

Saying thus, he would walk back to his table
by the rain upon windowpane, I was inconsolable
brisker than rain were the tears in my eyes
in the thought there would be flood, water would rise
the walk back home would be a herculean feat
with the street flooded, hidden manholes beneath
I was haunted by the spectre of how the water rose
crawled past my chest, and reached up the nose
the swelling river would find me an easy victim
the teacher didn't know, I didn't know how to swim!

When the school bell finally rang, they ran joyous in the rain
splashing and soaking merrily, their way was heaven
only I stayed back, as if my feet had grown roots
late evening I reached home, in heavy sodden boots.

May 18

Sally A Bayan

I'd Rather Be...

☘️☘️☘️

It's wonderful to be
a freshly blooming rose,
seen by everyone's eyes
given special names,
and compared with other
grown blooms.

But...

I'd rather be free from
everyone's attention,
i prefer to grow, to bloom
without much effort,
to sprout amongst the grass,
on some random garden spots,
to persist to exist, to breathe
even among crevices.

I'd rather be a wildflower
unannounced, unmaintained
yet, beautifully unique,
and with much freedom.

Upon me, others may tread,
but, i don't die easily,
i persevere, and then
in due time, i rise again.

sally b

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
MAY 16, 2024

#roses #wildflowers #random #unique #freedom

May 13

guy scutellaro

the tale of tombstones

stone angels and crosses,
myrtle leaves and a wreath of roses.

i have built relationships
among the tombstones
and beneath dirt
silent voices shout

time is quicksand!

so, climb a mountain,
swim the sea,
jump into the fire,
walk the high wire,
stumble on

be free.

the softness of her hand in my hand.
her humming to a song
and a whisper comes from the grave of my mom,
don't let life slip away into sorrow,

and through the moonlit smiles of angels,
through the silence of stone,

there among the tombstones
where time no longer teases,

the silent flight of tomorrows.

May 13

Pradip Chattopadhyay

Guilt

The cold moon breaks through the crevices
and where do I hide?
there's nothing to haunt my mind
but only the guilts inside.

Told not to venture into the night
I braved in the power of moonlight
where every shadow was a ghost
every dark nook a lost coast.

If I had someone with me
it wouldn't be all that scary
but I left them on the way
thinking I wouldn't need them anyday.

The loves I betrayed
the souls I traded
descended behind the tree
like the waning moon.

Before long the dark would devour me
knowing, I moved down with the moon
with none but the sighs on my side..

The derelict offered no place to hide.

Simultala, April 5, 2024 night.

May 13

Pradip Chattopadhyay

Once and Forever

The river will flow ceaseless
The sapling will be a tree
Will sing in happiness
The new you and the new me.

The sky will inspire a song
The birds will chirp in morn
Seasons will duly come along
Day and night will be born.

You won't know but we'll meet
Under the canopy of stars
Our love will again be sweet
Through all the blushes and scars.

We shall emerge anew again
Lost we never will be
Under the sun and pouring rain
There'll be a new you and me.

My humble tribute to Kavi Guru Rabindra Nath Tagore on his 163rd birth anniversary.

Mar 17

Safana

Inflation

On the old train,
elders and young ones
laid to the ground.
It is neither asleep nor
they passed away.
As the train panted up,
the passengers hearts inflating.
As the train's engine
locomote slower,
That is how passengers
Hearts beat slower.
An old train's driver is sailing
the train, and no one
knows where to reach.
Perhaps the climate
is favourable, but the crew
members endure to
burn coal.
The train is still exhausting.
and no one again knows
where to reach.
So the rainy season is
approaching, even if the
train reach somewhere,
no seeds to grow on
farmlands

Jan 19

WILLIAM WORTHLESS

kindness

when your soul has kindness life it is worthwhile
the kindeness that you give will aways bring a smile
something that you give your kindness it is free
deep inside of you it will always be

you can help somebody by showing that you care
if they need someone you are always there
they will sit and listen to what you have to say
kindness to somebody goes a long long way

it dosent cost a penny kindness it is free
there inside of you where its meant to be