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Ylzm Apr 18
Surer knowledge by cross examination
of witnesses than belief in imaginations
Will more certainty than mindless chance
Shakespeare was a man rather than monkeys
and Eve than washed up fishes learning to walk
The mother of humanity
Cast aside without a thought.
For what do we owe this calamity?
Man’s wrath is a terrible blot.

I wonder what you were like.
I wonder were you kind?
I wonder did you mean to free the mind?
I wonder could you heal the blind?

Did you dream?
Did you yearn to be free?
Did you want to sail some distant sea?
Did you simply wish to flee?

Can you forgive your children?
Can you absolve our sin?
Can you forget without chagrin?
Can you soothe our burning skin?

Will I win your praise?
Will I make you proud?
Will I meet you in the cloud?
Will I hear your voice aloud?
from o'er eastern hills
a brightly glowing moon's face
rose in late eve skies
As He Slept

As he slept
the old man died,
a baby brother
to take his place.
And as he slept,
the whole world sang,
celebrating in the hope
of a brighter year ahead.

James E. Roethlein copyright 2021
If you like this poem check out my published work “Musing on the Cricket Game of Life Part 1 1/2” and “An Extravagant Way of Saying Nothing”
Kristin Jan 1
The hospitals full
The ambulances all gone
My heart empty
My trust gone

The hospitals full
The ambulances all gone
The doctors and nurses maxed out
Can life still go on?

The hospitals full
The ambulances all gone
The morgues and mortuaries over-spilling
In the City of Angels and lost souls

The hospitals full
The ambulances all gone
I wear two masks, a smile and one of cloth
Life must go on

The hospitals full
The ambulances all gone
As ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three
Happy new year?

In the City of Angels and lost souls
The hospitals are full
The ambulances all gone
as we ring in a "new" year and life must go on

The hospitals remain full
The ambulances still gone
as one, two, three, four, five, six friend and family we bury
as living death still stalks on
Hammad Dec 2020
On the New Year's Eve,
As the clock hits midnight
and marks the new beginning
- The show begins
In a flash,
the night sky
gets lit on fire,
Fiery flowers hissing and fizzing,
their crackle and boom
steal the silence,
and in the midst of this frenzy;
I begin to ponder
that with each passing year,
we are racing towards - our destiny,
so I look back
and question myself
to contemplate
the mistakes I made,
the promises I break,
the unrealistic goals - I set,
and in this moment
I know why many of us
(when entering into the new year)
misses the mark
just like the kids who were
shooting rockets - in the dark...
Marie Dec 2020
The Umbilical cord is cut upon .... first breath.
Separating us from mother;
Pushing us to thrive in a manner outside...
Maternal internal cannibalistic vampirism.

Circumcised upon ****** classification.
Separating us from father;
Peeling away the skin,
Exposing the core of the apple.

Hair is pruned.
Separating us from the psyche;
Leaving us in the dark,
Like a shadow without a heart.

Held up by our foot.
Strung like a pretzel;
Smacked by the tune of historical blood,
Claiming degrees of separation.

We deny...
We are
       (Mother and Father...
        God and Devil....
        Creator, Perpetrator,
        Anti-Violator and Master Manipulator.)
  Adam, Eve, Snake and Apple.

--Marie Moldovan ©️ 2020
Naveen Malhotra Dec 2020
Tintin travellers
Hanky Panky
Revellers on the Ridge
Waiting for snow to fall
On the Mall, Town Hall
Everywhere on Shimla hills
The Ridge wearing
Fluffy white cloak
Under golden rays
Of bright Sun
The Church
Nearer to heaven
Seven to seven
Tintin travellers
Roaming, romancing and dancing
On the Ridge
With bizarre fragrances
Waiting for snow to fall
On the Mall, Town Hall
Everywhere on Shimla hills
Looting the thrill
Footing the bills
Moulding flaky snow
Into Jacks and Jills
Projectiles of snowballs
Hitting noses and chins
Fond memories of Queen of Hills
Tintin travellers waiting
To carry with them
Tourists and snowfall in Shimla, Himachal Pradesh, India.
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