Pooja Shah: Favorites

Dec 2013 Pooja Shah

Josh Murphy

When I look at you,
It's like looking at a tulip on a rose bush.

When I talk to you,
It's like hearing a puppy purr.

When I hug you,
It's like hugging a soft, warm cactus.

And when I kiss you,
It's like kissing a pleasant wasp's sting.

You are the confusion that is love,
You are my tulip on the rose bush.

Nov 2013 Pooja Shah

someone who gets me

Nov 2013 Pooja Shah

secretfeelingsofme

someone who gets me

I need a boy who will build up my confidence, when I go on about random ****, it all makes sense.
When I explain my insecurities, he will understand and hold my hand, not thinking i'm fishing for compliments while sitting on the sand.
He gets my personality and my outlook on life, he doesn't speak behind my back, take it and stab it with a knife.
I want a boy thats not perfect, just an average human being. Someone who's not the best at everything but he does, get me.

Nov 2013 Pooja Shah

not 'perfect'

Nov 2013 Pooja Shah

secretfeelingsofme

not 'perfect'

I'm that girl that's really insecure, I don't know if it's because i have plain brown hair or that i'm just really small.
I've been brought up in a world where 'perfect' is blonde hair and a skinny body. No! I'm not that girl, I'm a brunette and this is me.
Boy's say no no, I like curves and girls that are tanned, oh yeah i have all of that but where am I no boyfriend land.
You wonder why I'm insecure when all the time my friends get called beautiful and I'm just that nice girl with a personality that's colourful.
Ok, I'm not perfect but maybe thats just boring me, you maybe forget my name and only call me 'she' but thats fine with me, I am boring old me.

Nov 2013 Pooja Shah

Left or Right?

Nov 2013 Pooja Shah

AP Beckstead 2014

Left or Right?

Left or right?

Which shall I choose?
As I stand here alone,
I see two avenues,
unfolding infinitely in two very different directions.

One door leads left,
and the other right.

The left leads towards the unknown,
a striking and cold mountain range,
stark against the sky,
regal in its beauty,
the biting chill,
sharp against my skin,
a redwood jutting from the stone,
in the cold I grow aware.

The right leads an open meadow,
a familiar hum brushing against the grain,
sunflowers as far as the eye can see,
the smell draws my eyes towards a solitary object,
a single tree,
scared bark,
with my name scribbled against its skin,
I can feel a certain warmth in the breeze.

Both choices are beautiful,
both serene,
from the orange of summer skies,
a rainbow strewn against canvas,
to the white of winter as the wind sings,
swept between mountain crag.

A.P. Beckstead (2013)

Nov 2013 Pooja Shah

Differentiation

Nov 2013 Pooja Shah

AP Beckstead 2014

Differentiation

In this world,
there are numerous denominations,
split by human hand,
divided by persecution,
as blood spills to the sand.

Genocide,
no,
xenocide,
and by these actions everyday,
we commit patricide.
We feud for who knows what,
killing in the name of our God,
be it Elohim,
Allah,
or the dollar.
Civilization?
Progress?
Humans are far worse than animals,
people are cruel,
we **** with hidden agenda,
we cannibalize our beliefs,
there is no such thing as civility.
I have a dream?
What did that man see,
but the barrel of a gun?

Humans are created equal,
this is espoused by many,
and practiced by none,
even I allow the stitches of the American fabric to show.

I am no poet,
I am the greatest of hypocrites,
and in my futility,
I scream.

A.P. Beckstead (2013)

Nov 2013 Pooja Shah

Embarrassment

Nov 2013 Pooja Shah

Ian Beckett

Embarrassment

Woe is the man who revels in romance
He must hide his revelling from the world.
Never on a bus or plane or train, have you
Seen a man reading a romance novel, the
Lurid cover compelling the reader to delve
Into the protagonists embarrassment of
Embraces, between the satin sheets.

Nov 2013 Pooja Shah

family ties

Nov 2013 Pooja Shah

Sia Jane

family ties

Lost boy, parental fears
Where will he go, will he try
To be where the sky ends
Or will he simply fade
As they so fear.

Hear this music, listen to what
Goes on for him in these lyrics
They tell the story of his heart
Tears fill, his broken heart
Purging feelings through salt water tears.

The pain is washed out
Misunderstood, abandoned, alone
Heroic front, brotherly responsibilities
Big man of the house
Father away, managing life a different way.

Two children, run free
Escaping through stories
The written word, pen to paper
Hand written, dictated by those
Who sing through the radio and television.

Make believe, faery tales
A brother cradles his younger sister
He sings a lullaby he once was
Sang to himself as a young boy
As she giggles and laughs closing her eyes.

A house is never a home
Unless love is painted over the walls
Home has a heartbeat, every step
Inside every room, a smile lights
Filled with dreams, love and hope.

A family is a unit, connected at
Each and every portal, never undone
Whether a war rages in each of their minds
Together they will unite
Regardless as to whether blood is thicker than water.

© Sia Jane

Nov 2013 Pooja Shah

Untitled

Nov 2013 Pooja Shah

Rooted Whispers

Untitled

My body is stitched together by the beauty of language, foolish hopes and dreams, and seventeen years of slight displacement.
My child-like finger are formed slightly smaller than expected, attempting to catch my tears as they fall from my tired eyes but failing each time.
My heart beats as if placed a few inches too far to the left, pounding against my rib-cage as a constant reminder of the sea of liquid that rushes through my body with each pump and ***** the size of my fist that sits like a ticking bomb.
My lungs are a little too large, taking in all the hope and inspiration that hangs in the air on a silent winter morning but always somehow finding enough space for a poisonous breath of hatred.
My eyes are a little too far apart, greedily marveling in the beauty of a night sky but failing to see the beauty in four limbs and a slightly-larger-than-average torso.
My reflection is a little too weak, burdened with the weight of aging eyes and a young mind and unable to hold the weight of a simple dream.
Seventeen years of displacement, yet it is now that I learn to take my first steps with my slight imperfections.

Nov 2013 Pooja Shah

sunken

Nov 2013 Pooja Shah

James William Helms III

sunken

I want to let you read one day
all about the blood
the chronic crushing ***** wave
and the whiskey flood

I want to rock you gently to sleep
and protect you from the plague
the sadness of the the day
I drown in the wave

I have a runny faucet
in the back of my mind
the drops just keep drip-dropping
filling up my time

I want to write you a secret sonnet
and wrap it up in lace
and every word I write on it
will remind you of my face

I want to let you read one day
about all the blood
the chronic pounding faucet
that's causing my mind to flood

I'm drowning in an ocean
filled up with *****
and now I've met a mermaid
that won't let me loose

I'm a sunken treasure
at the bottom of the sea
tied to an anchor
that won't let me leave

my jewels are really shiney
though you can't see from up there
it's hard to come all the way down here
without any air

- From Dishwater.