Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Sep 2017 Poetry First
Max
My country and your country....
I don’t know what's that.....
I just know it's our world...
So let's end up wars and fights...

Everyday people are diying.....
Oh! Chidlren are turing orphans and all are wailing and crying....
But what is the media and government trying...
Only they make two countries wars to be multiplied...


Is  it my India Or is it my Pakistan!

No one knows Diwali as Ali and Ramdam has Ram...
It's all what they know is to use their arms...
With money and muscle power polish up their charm...
But never know during their revolts thousands are harmed...



Is it my India Or is it my Pakistan.....
We have made to learn Pakistanis are bad...
But during-"All Indians are my brothers and sisters" I feel quite sad....
Leave for it we know once India and Pakistan were united.....
But seriously what was the reason for being divided....


Youth just open up your eyes...
I know it's a tough journey but we need to give it a try......
Only we can make the dead's families tears dry.....


Wake up now or you will lose.....
I know the only correct path you will choose....


At last let's bring back India and Pakistan in their correct order.....
And obliviate racism and borders.........
 Sep 2017 Poetry First
Maria Etre
The sexiest thing
is a daring heart
willing to
break the bones
of your ribcage
jump out of it
to meet mine
half way
 Sep 2017 Poetry First
S Olson
A mountain hemorrhages cliffs of
sunlight just outside my dark front door;
it is the fifth wonder of my universe,
a morning marvel
framed by coffee
and cigarette smoke; it is
love, with hair of lush pine needles,
and a chest like an arm of dirt:

in your too-old two old
river-bed shoes,
in your dry desert clothing,
why does the fog beat you
like an immovable heart?

How can something so old
be dying; is the sky an
unforgiving wrinkle

more canyon than harbor,
or ship without captain

are we all
all we are
at the end, or is there more?
Poetry flows through me
Like the breeze
Glides through
The clouds
Gloriously summiting
The stratosphere
Expressive schemes
In my brain appear
Without warning or
Appointed time
Storms a brewing
Within the inner
Focus of my mind
Poetry blowing
Deep within my soul
Always cummulating stanza's
Which make me whole
As the morning dawns
Stomachs ache and twist
The orchestra of yawns
Gives way to morning mist
Lovely  double  rainbow  today.
One  reflecting  to  cause.
Another  weaker  one.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2017.
All along the rain road,
Stopped, like a solitude ray
Escaping the glooms grasp,
Along the ways aglow,
Evening,
Perhaps morning,
Mixed waters in the midst
Of a formless cloud,
      Colored grey or under
The brightest light,

A wandering mind
Never at its now,
     Only then can he be,
Occupancy time
And bellowed grief through
   Mists of thought,
And luminous it may,
How stars see city's night,
    His cloud follows into
The sun,

All along rain road
Slithered in presence,
A wet summer heat
Forms in the cab still,
      Rolling in a flutters drop...
Next page