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 Nov 2017
Sadikshya Tripathi
If I was able to run from myself, would live a satisfied life I guess.
Memory loss would be the boon and days would be beautiful soon.
Difficult to deal with the person you hate,
Even most difficult, when it turns to be yourself.
Life full of regret,
No other way to escape,
Escape from yourself,
Escape from your days.
 Dec 2016
Showing up unceremoniously
From behind prissy waistbands unyielding,
Giggling out between breaths ****** in,
Unabashed, untamed rolls of me,
Not needing flattering illumination or angles,
Only truth-shopped and real-brushed,
Sharp with their curves and bends and curls,
Their glory making me feel like the cover girl
That i am.
 Sep 2016
You are the ending
to my wandering
 Mar 2016
Day is passing
Slowly through my finger tips,
I try so hard to tighten my grip,
eyes have gone blind,
I befriend my mind.

seated next to a stranger in a bus-
hoping to hear from someone else that the day is meant for us

Their words have turned me mute,
denigrating my decibel to a minimum,
cultivating a web for all the voices that were dispersed—
I still haven’t decided if silence is a blessing or a curse.

Thing is no one told me that life is long, and that I have to continue the journey no matter how isolated I was.
No one told me how much I should participate in the creation of my existence, that I should perhaps keep going because no one will ever wait for me

There is nobody

treading the grounds alongside
deserted people,
gambling with faith in such a beastly place,
perfumed with slavery and discrimination;
despair and racism,
rubbing off a scent of alienation,
even that becomes a consolation.

I shouldn’t make this place about me,
growing fangs and horns in solidarity,
show me a world where all this don't persist,
How shall I go on looking like this.

There is nobody

My mind is a sanctuary,
They live and die in my memory,
Every single stranger is me.

Where have I arrived today?
I try so hard to disappear from everyone, that I end up even more lost in my own destination.

How did it become this beautiful?
 Mar 2016
Sadikshya Tripathi
We see the stars, that twinkle
That´s our impotence that,
we can´t see the stars that doesn´t twinkle
but they exist.
They exist in that dark universe
lightening their surrounding.
There comes a certain time for star, to
twinkle for universe,
but not every star has that potential.

and yea I am a star,
and I am fan of myself.
we all have some talents,
only those who get platform shines.
 Mar 2016
Sally A Bayan
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^  ^Diaspora ^  ^
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a jumble is taking place
in the small wilderness...outside my window
all night creatures...even the trees
join in the survive
they could never go against the swooshing rhythm
of the rushing kingly wind.

as i am tonight...lost in my own wilderness
i feel so limited...turning left to and fro
as sparks of thoughts and images...come and go
scattered ***** bouncing here and there
from corners and walls of my room
now, they're here,
later, they'd disappear.

mind is a mess...bright ideas, scamper off
fleeing from their temple...their home
refusing to be captured...

simultaneously, some known sounds
the cries...the envisioned giggles and laughter
of familiar voices, are now hidden somewhere
have sought refuge some place else.
faces...names...smiles...words...good spirits,
one by one,
slowly, have gone...

...there is only the damp darkness
of a emptiness...
created by an absence
of inspirations
of people who give inspirations....but, have left
some are about to leave
thank God for those who came back,
missing fellow poets...good friends...and their works
missing the placid waters
that once surrounded us

i miss reading...feeling the sweet music...the rhymes,
the free verse of good, wholesome friendships...
of kindred spirits in poetry
in poetry...where we all started...where, in one way
or another, we all have metamorphosed...
i believe, i know...our paths didn't cross for naught.

::: ours is a small world...existing within a bigger world :::
      ::::::::::::::::: there needn't be a diaspora ::::::::::::::::::
        ::::::::::::::::: i miss us ::::::::::::::::::


Copyright March 11, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
 Mar 2016
Quiet as a nun the day passes deep in prayer
Sunlit shining like a newly minted silver coin
all the blue sky tinted wispy white, wispy white
the Sun's diffused warmth through windows
blinds down, creeping into the skin of your hands
as your mind takes in all the promises of spring.
 Mar 2016
its the letting go
the space freedom needs
to work its magic in your soul
 Mar 2016
the clock can be a fickle companion
catch you unawares
time your heartbeats
shock you into action
tell you, you are always late
always on time
too early.
 Mar 2016
K Balachandran
For a million light years, a bloom in space,
a star collapsed,died and scattered,
a petal fell in to inter galactic swirl,
it floated or continued to fall, who can tell?
Light years, like waves after waves caressed it,

eternity took it in to it's cradle and swung,
and it's now the earth,that rides
the waves of gravity, magnetic pulls and the rest,
I am it's part, wandering permanence,
without the remembrance of it's past avatars,
the essence of what is nothingness,
changing forms,I reappear, go back
trapped in a bubble,which after the mission
goes back to the eternal as consciousness.

                                        so, why grieve,
get agitated, or feel elated at times?
Keep the equilibrium and exude love, star-like,
this is what the cosmic hum signifies,
in tunes familiar or seems altogether new.
 Jan 2016
Irving MacPherson
between what is
and what is to become

sitting on
a large grey stone

eyes skimming
across the inlet

never have I seen
an ugly sky

the horizon the horizon
how many times

have I penned
that word horizon

looking for the ears to hear
to come from beyond the horizon
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