I Won’t Listen until I Do | A Poem by G.S. Katz

She’s gone
Left this earth
Fought the battle
Went quietly
A little morphine
To speed her path

There are messages
On the voice mail
Ones I saved along the way
Knowing this day would come

Can’t listen yet
Maybe in time
Knowing they are there
Gives me comfort
In a morbid kind of way

She was mostly good
Lived by a code
Did things the right way
Old school if you will

A day will come
When I go to the well
Not now though
The earth is still wet
I’m not ready to take the plunge

I wish you had known her
Pragmatic, classy and wise
One day I will listen
Not now though but soon…



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Diseased | A Poem by Sheikha A.

I look out the window
to inspect the buzz and fuss
of people’s chipper chattering
about golden September dawns;
the earth exuding warmth
as the winds frolic a chill,
and the scarlet of the sky
before waking of the morn;
the colours grey to me,
I watch you busy fending
unfetched memes of an artist’s
routine; the sip from your cup,
its rim that bears a dried up mark
and I watch you unwatching me,
immersed so thoroughly
in conjurable pursuits.

So, you’ve found your muse;
I go about mine, cleansing
the house that sits in me of a non-
perishable disease, I wish carried
a date of expiration:
melancholy.

Visit Sheikha at http://sheikha82.wordpress.com.

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Departures | A Poem by Donal Mahoney

On the white lily,
wings of the Monarch
open and close.

Over coffee this morning
lips of Miranda
open and close.

Soon the Monarch
will take to the air.
Autumn is here.

As will Miranda
when Bill goes to work.
Nothing now to disclose.

Visit Donal at http://booksonblog12.blogspot.com/.

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Precious Time | A Poem by Naduni

You rest in peace
Under my swollen eyes
I never knew
My tear glands could produce
So much tears
Till I experimented at your death

Everybody is here
Our friends, your parents
Even my coworkers and yours
They remind me the god given precious moments
I wasted without spending with you
Holding your hand for one more minute
Kissing your forehead for one more second
Cooking you one more romantic dinner

How many times did I dropped a lazy text
Telling you I can’t meet you
‘cause of a board meeting
A funeral of a friend
Shopping at MC
Or a movie with friends or
A get together in the school
Or a Bodhi Pooja in the temple
How many days did I spend without you
Abroad during conferences and
Workshops

How many nights did I spend at friends’ houses
Leaving you alone on a cold bed at a mute house

Then I thought it is just an hour, just a day, just a night or just a
week
And that I have a lifetime to spend with you
But
Here you are, lying motionless as frozen ice
Ashen and cold
My tears that stubbornly wet your chest to rouse you
Come to no avail
If I have just one more week, one more day, one more hour or one more
minute
To hold your hand
To touch your lips
To tell you a thousand things I wanted to tell you
But never had the time
If I could say I love you one last time…

But now there’s no time
I’ve wasted the precious time
Like a fool and now regret

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Judy’s Father and Mine | A Poem by Donal Mahoney

The only difference between
Judy’s father and mine
is my father didn’t drink.
When we were tykes
they’d come home from work
in a rage every evening,
her father drinking into the night
and mine sitting in silence
in a tiny parlor playing
ancient reels and jigs
on a huge RCA Victrola.

Her father wore a tie
and carried a brief case,
and mine wore coveralls
and carried a lunch bucket
into the alleys of Chicago
climbing light poles to fix
dead wires so all could see.
Her father came home neat,
mine soaked in sweat.

But they were twins,
Siamese if you will,
each miserable in his own way,
driving wives and children nuts.
I always wondered if Judy and I
had normal fathers, if we
would have been
scriveners as adults.

I know I would have gone
to law school and railed
in court in behalf of
the innocent and guilty
and made wads of money
I’d be fingering now instead
of sitting behind a keyboard
at dawn still typing.

Visit Donal at http://booksonblog12.blogspot.com/.

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I Ended the World | A Poem by Naduni

I dismantled the Milky Way
Immersed it in the Mariana crate
Uprooted the Himalayas
Smashed them into bits and
Blew to the empty void of the space

When you were no longer there?
What use of them were to me?

I removed the stars
Didn’t let them shine any more
Covered the azure blue
Of the sky with white

I made them all mourn
For my unforeseen loss

There was none to empathise
Though there were many who spat
Empty, cliché expressions of ‘good manners,’
‘I am very sorry about your loss.’

My pain, my devastation and my desperation
Inflated in to a rage
That devoured the world and made it barren
Ruined the world, no Noahs exempted
Cause there were no Noahs who knew what was love and kindness
I don’t apologise
I am not sorry for the loss of the Earth
When you were not there
What was the use of that indurate world?

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I Now Know Love | A Poem by Naduni

I now know love, that you were right
When you took my hand
And told me not to
On the bridge, that in hindsight,
Divided rather than united us
For the drizzly evening,
The night over in your apartment

My pride and my conviction
Led me here, where there’s only
A shadow, a translucent image
Of you

When you were there always with me
I never thought how much I’d miss you
If you were lost to me one day
You were like my lipstick I used and disposed
When I could never find the exact same shade
Only I felt how valuable you were to me whom
I so easily left

Overwhelmed by loneliness and gloom
I am now used to both
But they are not friends who share my life
They are murderers lurching behind, under and beside
Patiently watching me perish
Without wasting a bullet on my bare body

The days we spent under the mild sun
The soft pecks on the neck
The beautiful words
‘I love you’
Did not come to a stop
I came to the stop
I forced this loneliness
Myself and aren’t I punished for that?

The neon lights painting a soft blue hue
Over our small table in a warm corner of the coffee house
Sipping coffee we looked into each other’s eyes
How long? I can’t remember
I only remember that I never got tired of watching you
I remember the slender neck tapering into sharp collar bones
The soft blue dancing on the high cheekbones

My weak wrist is balancing my gaunt hand on the edge of the table
But now there is no hand cupping it, covering it from the harsh
realities
Of the frigid world and murmuring to my ear
Tickling it, standing behind me, towering over me
Don’t worry – I am here

Only the memory of you – of us – of love – of our love – of hope
Remains around me
Wrapped to my weaning body like a thin, Georgette saree

If I didn’t go, if I listened to you, if I did what you wanted me to
do
Perhaps we’d be still together
Perhaps…
Who knows really what would have happened…
Perhaps this is my fate
Perhaps you will come
Perhaps we’ll accidentally meet in a mundane
Place like a couple from a Hollywood movie
Perhaps… perhaps…
Even if I didn’t go
Something would still have parted us…

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