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Adrian Supetran Nov 2017
I saw a God crying,
With tears turning into silver.
Curious, I started asking:
"Why does a God quiver?"

He looked at me with strange eyes.
Inside those depths are dancing dyes.
I could see a fatal sign
That this God is intoxicating; so divine.

I cannot make this God mine.
Someone so broken, needs the blessings of time.
But let me show you a crime.
Let me embrace you, hoping it will be just fine.
Marye Minstrel May 2017
Her hair falls, the spring rain
Over her chest, rising
Like the hills of the world
Bright in the summer of her smiling face

She sees all the world like the clouds in the sky
Feels it with fingers like beams of the sun
Her laughter comes rolling
The wind in the trees

Her heart flows, all loving
Like salt to the oceans
I feel in the water the touch of her hands
The birds say she loves me
They sing in her voices
She hushes, with nature to watch the stars rise

I’ll tell her I love her
Through the world she’ll hear me
She sleeps now, like mountains
Our love will move on
Tamal Kundu May 2017
It was the missing decade
of my life that came back,
late on one clammy night.

Wearing your visage
of a foraging girl
at the foot of a tranquil Vesuvius.

Spent though I was,
for those decades still with me,
I sat awake listening to the warmth of open windows.

The decade came for me,
in figments and memories
wheezing a few questions.

This room is known to me,
as is the night,
as is the flaying heat,

and the carved words
on the creaking charpoi
by some distant uncle.

I melded with the light squeezing through
into this dark, sulphurous room
like an exile away from my maker.

The decade came to me
and sang lullabies
of princes who never were.

I have kept my vigil
until the mirror ran dry
and returned to sand.

The decade wears me now
as I am, the hunting boy
by a shimmering Ganges.
Form: Free Verse
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