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  Jul 2018 Shanath
alexa
you say you’re not a poet but
with a girl like that,
how could you speak
anything less than
the stars?
-a.c.b
  Jul 2018 Shanath
Valsa George
on a sea strand,
have you watched empty shells
mercilessly tossed from sea to shore
and from shore to sea?
      
often I shrink and reduce to such a shell,
with jagged and broken edges
colorless and empty

among many a debris cast on the shore,
i lie half buried under the sand
waiting for some mighty wave
to wash me away
all the way to the sea

how tedious is my voyage
shuttling from him to her
and from her to him
unable to openly confess
who weighs more
on the balance of preference

through how many alleys and by ways
I have wandered, questioning my identity!
am I a puffer fish, being toxic
the fisher men have discarded?
a jarring note in a discordant symphony?
I wonder....! I often ask myself!

destined to grow
in mercurial climes,
planted in arid shallow soil
with the tap root trimmed,
branches pruned,
growth denied,
I, a stunted bonsai!

still I dream to be a towering tree,
that in profusion gives fruits and shade!
a ****** aspiring to be a Goliath
a hollow reed,
longing at once to be the singer and the song!
When a divorce occurs, the threat of losing the home and losing the purpose of life confronts a child, especially in the younger age. Children of divorced parents experience a real trauma and they begin to doubt about their own identity!
  Jul 2018 Shanath
OC
The crowd squeezes me
back into non-existence
And the world, confines
the crowd
And the void pressures
the world into a sphere
And the universe prevents
the void  from spreading
wild and unchecked.
Ergo,
the universe is squeezing me
back into non-existence.

Like a ******* child
who’s diligent compression
might revert the flow of time
and compensate for
some ancient rash decision

And I
with all my puny might
push myself away from
the moment of conception
let out a mute defying roar
through gritted teeth
through arched back
and through a dripping brow
through trembling
and nausea
and bundles of strained muscles
that resonate
with ever shrinking frequency
until they reach
a breaking point
and crumple to a singularity

It is a battle lost each day
since universes, as they come
are infinite
and I infinitesimal
assigned a finite stay
  Jul 2018 Shanath
Anne Curtin
Ten years ago tonight
we were watching
our mother die.


The bedroom -  with her
beloved blue shutters -
littered with used
medical equipment

her low moans.

Someone inside me
remembers the stench
of cancer

Now  her three daughters
stand in a triangle with
our backs turned -


and no one says a word.
This is a poem my sisters will never see.
  Jul 2018 Shanath
Banele Msimango
I close my eyes and I am home
I close my eyes and I am home
I close my eyes and I am home
No it's not a dream.
I close my eyes and I am home
They hate me here
A feeling within me speaks
It's the colour of my skin
The different shades of the melanin!
I close my eyes and I am home
My presence is stand up
My absence is meeting
I close my eyes and I am home!
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