only
when
our
souls
that
have fallen
from
the
heavenly
stars
are
to
meet
and
greet each other
near or far

CADENCES

I got tired of making money,
too old to work,
I stopped thinking about how to make a living.
I told the traditional life to go to hell,
and I became a small being, and I left everything,
and I sway to my own rhythm.
Time and again, I've seen it all,
I live in my cadences,
that rhythm of my own.
And it was different,
that other me, entered,
and never left me.
I do what I want,
because I want little,
the future doesn't matter,
I've already been through a lot.
And now I am myself.
That's what I always was,
the child who never changed.
A small one who got tired of everything.
A heart that matured without knowing how.
That child who now plays with colorful words
who is that great unknown among those around him.
Now I play with everything and the moon smiles at me in the sky,
and you know, I stopped caring about how to live,
and what others say
everything slides off me.

O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN!!

A piece of mine, that looks so fine,
Yet I never mattered in the fragile line.
Let them paint me cruel, unworthified-
A villain crafted by their own design.

They tell the tail in the black and white,
While casting shadows in the light.
But I just want to say goodbye-
No exit applause, no final bow, no crowd-defined.

I murdered myself to end this night,
Just to see you happy, see you smile
-even the cloud cloud feel it right.
I'm not wrong, I was cast as the  villain,
Because it's easier to call you divine.

The truth unfolds, still lost in time,
And maybe it's simpler-
To be the villain than explain what's behind.

By Vedanta Anagha (Mayank Tripathi)

(The following poem can be sung to the melody of "The Major-General's Song" from Gilbert and Sullivan's THE PIRATES OF PENZANCE. Check it out on YouTube. The first STRESSED syllable in each line is the SECOND syllable.)

Trump IS the very model of a modern major autocrat.
He sidles up to despots and we see him do a lot o' that.
He thinks he is a genius who displays originality
And doesn't understand that he is reeking of banality.
He doesn’t like diplomacy and has no grasp of history.
How people can put up with him is really quite a mystery.
He fans the fires of discontent and lives for praise and flattery,
And if he doesn't get them he resorts to verbal battery.

He WANTS complete control to rule the country with an iron fist.
He's NOTHING but an ego-driven maniac and narcissist.
He thumbs his nose at democratic ways and does a lot o’ that,
For he’s the very model of a modern major autocrat.

He scorns the rule of law and doesn't care if he's a criminal.
His instincts for corruption are much more than just subliminal.
He hopes that crypto currency will fill his coffers to the brim
And acts as though he doesn't care about what allies think of him.
He's fired a lot of workers and he boasts that he’s expedient.
His sycophants must fawn on him and prove that they’re obedient.
The gifts and money that he gets affect his greedy attitude.
His favors in return display how he will show his gratitude.

Regarding scientists and experts, Trump will ask, "What good are they?"
Since HE is such a know-it-all, it doesn't matter what they say.
He thumbs his nose at democratic ways and does a lot o’ that,
For he’s the very model of a modern major autocrat.

While more detention camps pop up--there's one now in the Everglades--
It seems that he is trying to distract us from his sexcapades,
For he and Jeffrey Epstein often seemed to be contiguous.
That they were friends was obvious and clearly not ambiguous.
But now that he's in power he will use the DOJ, of course,
To threaten and intimidate his "enemies" with no remorse.
And once he has control of what the media can say to us,
Imagine all the lies that he will force it to convey to us.

How sad to have a president who oozes such hypocrisy
Become the biggest threat we've ever seen to our democracy!
He thumbs his nose at democratic ways and does a lot o’ that,
For he’s the very model of a modern major autocrat.

-by Bob B (8-7-25)

The café is crowded today.
The sun bleeds through the windows,
Too golden, too alive.
Laughter spills from warm mouths,
Voices tangled in gossip and joy—
Sips of “hot tea” passed like communion.

They are full.
Full of stories, of fire, of something.
And I—
I watch from the shadows,
Wearing a smile that doesn’t belong to me.

Why do I feel nothing?

Why does the world move
As if I’m not even here?

Two shots of Americano sit before me,
Untouched.
Their black depths reflect my own—
Still, bitter,
And staring back.

I wonder if they know
That I am not whole.
That half of me is elsewhere,
Wandering some unseen purgatory.

My body is here,
But my soul?
It left long ago.
Perhaps in silence.
Perhaps screaming.
I can't remember anymore.

Friends used to say,
“You look like a corpse with breath.”
And I laughed—
The way ghosts might laugh
At the echo of a joke
They no longer understand.

I daydream often,
But dreams never stay.
They float just out of reach—
Like the memory of warmth
Or the sound of someone calling your name
After they've already gone.

I was the joker once.
Now, I am the joke.

Some days,
I wonder if I died
And no one noticed.

That I simply
Kept living
Out of habit.

when
you
look
into
the
eyes
of
the
green monster
with
bloodshot eyes
and
a whiskey smile
and
it
is
only a reflection of me