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 Dec 2015 Monika
david mungoshi
By forty you’d be rich and famous
              So you said
By fifty you’d be a revered opinion maker
With princes and the rich queuing for your ideas
              So you said
By sixty you’d be a modern but erudite oracle
Dispensing flakes of stunning wisdom to all
              So you said
By eighty you’d be a rare phenomenon
Physically strong and mentally sharp beyond belief
              So you said
But who’s this tattered old person in rimless glasses
Begging the indulgence of amused passers-by
And selling rusty memories at two for a dollar?
 Dec 2015 Monika
Poetic T
As I sailed upon the ocean of
Stars my sails shimmering
In the radiance of solar breezes.

The sun was setting for an eternity
Now fading from our gaze.
Our light house fading from sight.

The order was given to hoist the
Main sail for the winds were as
A breath now faint and cold.

We sail the infinite ocean of lanterns
Always sailing beyond the sunset
Catching the breath of celestial stars.
The universe is our ocean and earth is our port, we will sail upon a sea of lanterns looking for new harbours to explore.
 Dec 2015 Monika
K Balachandran
In every human
in the caves within
sharing the space,
wearing darkness
or light as dress
live two tenets*
holding(more or less)
joint tenancy rights
named Inhuman
and Divine

Now a question
to ponder at leisure
Have you ever noticed
one or the other,
moving in or out?
*Tenet/Tenant
May I ask again?
ever smelled the presence of a third one?
Whose acts fit to the name "  middle human"
Or all these are apparitions,of one and the same?
changing hues according to the scenes?
Why the devine couldn't control the game?
Well, perhaps we need to understand the intricacies
far more better, sitting on a higher branch.
 Dec 2015 Monika
Francie Lynch
That first Christmas,
We cut four branches,
Under the clouds,
From the three pines
On the other side
Of the backyard hedge.
If I went there today,
I'd see the nubs.
The pail full of sand
Came from Daddy's
Circle of cement making.
We firmly planted
The four branches
And wrapped them
With newspaper chains,
Made with the extra edition
From the morning's route.
That night, the moon streamed
Through the bay window,
Spotlighting our tree.
In later years,
We bought trees from the Farmer's Market,
Roping them with twinkling lights
We plugged in.
Daddy never bought a gift or a card
For any special day;
But he annually re-gifted Canada.
This Christmas, the full moon
Will stream again,
And I will tell
His great grand-daughter
The story about the tenacity
Of paper chains,
 Dec 2015 Monika
Poetic T
Floating on a stream of delicate warm milk
I gather handfuls of froth udders tepid silk.

Chilled hands collect warmth on a cold night,
Fulfilled memories of past moments do ensue.  

Each one descends into foamy warm truth
I pick out the choc chips going down smooth.
first stanza end rhyme
second stanza start rhyme
Last stanza near rhyme
They say need is the mother of invention,
This automatically means that you were "invented" for a reason,
To fulfill something,something that no one else will do,
You may be unique but not see anything in yourself which no one else has,
So how then are you really a holder of a unique purpose?
Well,life is a journey..
And what you're meant for will always be something that comes up as a passion,a strong desire.
 Dec 2015 Monika
axr
We're tied by fate
marching with promises sewn over lips.
Our minds shut
and controlled.
They call us imperfect
if you can deny.
Sunken eyes and faded skin
we are the things you crave from within.
The city is disgusting.
A corpse of what it used to be.
We're aloof.
We let the drugs permeate our system.
We stay high.
The ground is caked in dirt and rust.
We are worth your trust.
It's feels sick when we think about what we used to be.
We are your twenty one broken dreams.
 Dec 2015 Monika
axr
Animal
 Dec 2015 Monika
axr
Show me that you're an animal
Make me cry
Your eyes glow in the night
You run through the jungle with your pride on your sleeve.
Isn't life too sweet?
Their king has risen and there's a lump in my throat.
Will you cry when I read out the poems I have written?
You're manuscripts waiting to be deciphered,
lanterns waiting to be lit,
a storm ready to start,
With you, I am the happiest I have ever been.
You're an animal ready to ****.
 Dec 2015 Monika
Onoma
People may not
realize that, now
and forever are
synonymous.
Here to there has
taken the same
vow.
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