Mentally Blocked and Forgotten

Mandatory awakenings,
Are eclipsing on the horizon.
Fading fast are thoughts from the past...
And a firm grasp on delusions,
Slip from grips
To be tossed like trash.

Minds are being lifted,
To insights before unknown!
And many will find themselves left behind...
Trying to define their identities,
When enlightenment is all
Those shown will condone!

Leaving concepts no longer existing...
And those resisting feeling quite alone!
Mentally blocked and forgotten.
Roaming the Earth as useless drones.
With no food for thought to share...
Yet providing Vultures an assortment,

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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She's Just Seventenn.. Marie Made It....UT 2012..(prematurely)

Dressed up she steps into the aircraft, her mum aunt and brother
My Marie a firebrand with a grand touch of elegance like no other
She survives with patience the turbulent grey skies of doubt,
The blue skies smiles and the glorious sun.. comes so tunefully out,
Excited with the blessings that comes from the Almighty God above..
I wipe a teardropp that escapes my eye amazed at my precious love
As thoughts, oh those thoughts, that keeps coming on and on
Feelings hard to express, explain with every day that do dawn
When we did congratulate their mum and aunt Nadi not so long ago
Today as a team we congratulate Marie to the university she packs go....

poem by Shirani Ibrahim
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Kebra Nagast – Ark of the Covenant

A new Mystery for Me:

The Ethiopian Queen known as Queen Makeda
came to visit King Solomon of Israel
we read in Chapter 25 of the ancient
Ethiopian Epic Kebra Nagast

King Solomon sent her home
with the gift of half his kingdom
carried through the night
as swift as an eagle in his flight

On Solomon’s secret Flying Machine
afterwards she gave birth to his son
known as King Menelik
who returned to King Solomon

In his Flying Aircraft
to carry off the Ark of the
Covenant to its final

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poem by Margaret Alice
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Dna

You don't have to take my word for anything.
Let's make this simple.
Remember the hair samples you took from my ass?
Use that to verify my movements.
The phone tappings.
The helicopter flybys.
The FBI watches...
And your fake smiles,
Are costing you your won security.
I'm 'within' the borders.
The millions behind you have hopped the fence...
As you made attempts to convince others,
I have been your enemy!
Starving my kind to death is not going to save you!
What other proof do you need?
My hunger feeds your ignorance.
'Hello, is 'anyone' at home 'upstairs'? '
You've been monitoring me for centuries.
Take your DNA and go!
This color is mine.

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Monkeys falling from the sky

Monkeys falling from the sky
Happens when they try to die
Jumping from an airplane
So that nothing would remain

Fishes swimming in the sand
Is a start of a crazy trend
Chasing after a sea otter
Who escaped from oil in water

Running from a hungry bear
Is a girl with braided hair
Never trained in any sport
She’s the only one he got

Do not act as crazy monkeys
Stupid fish or little girls
When you face the life’s tough choices
One is has to have the balls.
 

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poem by Slava Olchevski
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Noise

From it there's no escape
it is everywhere
noise, noise, noise.
The moment you arise
till you go to sleep
it fills your head.
Cars and lorries drive by
bloody noisy Pigeons cooing
stereo's at full blast.
Drilling in the road
alarms going off
sirens wailing.
Kids screaming
Helicopter overhead
sound of breaking glass.
Noisy neighbours
doors slamming
dogs loud barking.
Even when asleep
noises in your head

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poem by Kevin Halls
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My Angels Day

My Angel’s Day

Custards n tarts, a chocolate like a heart
Ice creams n shakes, the cookies which I bake
A giant wheel with an eye n a helicopter that flies
The rabbit from wonderland n the pirates from Neverland
Alice, Ariel n Cinderella, Snow-white n the little fellas
Come here one and all, Cos my dears you’ll have a ball
It’s my angels day, as its her wonderful b’day
We’ll make a bright cake, decorate it with bells n lace
She’ll blow the candles in a swish, n make a lovely wish
We’ll play musical chairs n dance as if no one cares
Sing a birthday song, get her a princess gown nice n long
My angel shines like star n blossoms like a sunflower
Dear God, I ask you with all my heart, that she has joys that ever lasts.

poem by Blossom Mist
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An October Morning

Here, in October, scores of dragonflies
Fly about like miniature airplanes
Speckled butterflies collide with them
Floating in the air like catamarans
The morning slowly dries wet clothes,
Dripping, they smell of blue detergent
The house there wakes up bleary-eyed
Hesitating shadows emerge from the walls
A varnished gate, the midget of a woman
On the concrete bench, in the garden
Measuring the length of her shadow
A riot of bougainvillea bursts on the rock
Like a Chinese vase with fresh geraniums
Fresh coffee drip-drops in the percolator
Filling the air with delicious aroma
Amid all the blood and gore of newsprint
Soon you drift into a crimson forgetfulness.

poem by Jagannath rao Adukuri
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You forgot Gandhi too

"You forgot Mahatma Gandhi too"
"I never believed it might be ever true"
These were worlds spoken by frontier Gandhi * Abdul Gafar Khan
He descended at Palam Airport to address audience at down

I was raw airmen just passed out from Air force centre
New Delhi was capital and main point to enter
As Delhi remained central stage for freedom struggle
It had witnessed lots of struggle and invited troubles

We were questioned by security staff a airport terminal
We had gone there to witness movement of aircrafts and their arrival
We saw an old man descending from special plane
He had only one old bag hidden under arms

He waved hand at little gathering
He was unhappy and lots of things were bothering
He was sore at being dumped by the Indian friends
He never imagined such down grade performance at the end

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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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September 2001

There are times
that always stays with you
and I remember a day
that I stood
with a cool drink
and a bible in my hand
when I saw in a religious book shop
on CNN
how two aircraft
short after each other
go right through the Twin Towers
and flames and smoke
burst out of both buildings.

Unbelief, perplexion, shock
and the knowledge that it’s murder
and a chaotic terrorist deed
hit me like thunder strokes
and I am sorry for the innocent people
that has no opportunity to escape

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poem by Gert Strydom
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Bush Goblins

The Locust drones along the drowsy noon,
The brown bee lingers in the yellow foam,
Blossom on blossom searching deep, but soon
Slides heavy-wingèd home.

The vacant air, half visible, complains
All overburdened of its noontide hour;
Sound after sound in heavy silence wanes
At the strong sun’s burning power.

Let the strong sun burn down the barren plain
And scour the empty heaven, and twist the air
To filmiest flickerings, o’er us in vain
His hollow vault doth glare.

For us gnarled boughs and massive boles o’ershade,
And tall bulrushes guard us with green spears
From the grim noon; our dewy jewelled glade
Never a footstep nears.

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poem by Henry Mackenzie Green
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Ding-a-ling, Dingdong-bell, Singalong - Loner Is A Mourner!

All alone, aside, aground, bays an empty soul nameless,
Afloat, adrift, awash, says a goose egg shameless,
In thoughts - I'm lost, tattles an barren vessel aimless.
I'm with me yet alone - rattles a hollow skull rudderless!
Alone I cried again and again chanting a sullen rhyme -
Ding-a-ling, dingdong bell, singalong - loner is a mourner.

I talk and walk, lacking hope - lying in the corner;
Alone in woe - a clumsy, discombobulated flesh
Trying to fill a flimsy and distorted mesh. Yes I do
The donkeywork at a place, yet a sojourner, lo!
Alone I cried again and again chanting a sullen rhyme -
Ding-a-ling, dingdong bell, singalong - loner is a mourner.

Alone I flew in ruefulness, I - a Ruta graveolens!
I woke up to find my soul loitering in woods dense,
A glider without target yet a hogwash and trumpery.
I'm a writer with no imagination yet a gimcrackery,
Alone I cried again and again chanting a sullen rhyme -
Ding-a-ling, dingdong bell, singalong - loner is a mourner.

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poem by Harindhar Reddy
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Third of the Angels

Fallen Roman theater
Tragic goals of the thespian
Eaten by the giant disorder
No war paint on the reservation
Swirling winds of Ulysses
Implode in silk and revelry
Strategy from the mind of a demon
Your play and mask is designed
Stage set like Van Gogh’s madness
Parley with the dead
Script memorized

Satyr drones dance with lutes
Frozen seas with tentacles
Pulled into swords of warlocks
Kings of the denizens
Purple lady fornicates with gargoyles
Repertoire of loss of soul
Your moments of bliss like a prostitute
Sleep with the poised apothecary

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poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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Murderous Rage

The human behavior
Is strange to suss about.
A husband slits the throat
of his adulterous wife.
The wife strangles her hubby
With the hand of her paramour.
The lover becomes the poisoner
When his deep soul goes astray.
Some brutes with a wild mindset
chop off the heads of their beloved
and carry them dangling to the police.
The doctors too are killed
when their treatments to the ill fail.
The realtors and the growing politicians
are hacked to death
The mafia gangs assault in day light
and after the mayhem walk of leisurely.
The terror outfits strike at crowded places.
Students wield guns and choppers
and the teachers preach in the grip of fear.

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poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Summertime Rolls

Fell into
A sea of grass
And disappeared among
The shady blades...
Children all
Ran over me
Screaming tag!
You are the one!

He trips her as
Her sandals fail
She says stop!
I'm a girl...
Whose fingernails are made
Of mother's pearl...

Yellow buttercup
Helicopters
Orange buttercat
Chasing after

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song performed by Jane's Addiction from Nothing's Shocking
Added by Lucian Velea
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To A Great Writer

you started with a mask
as you assume the name of the anonymous
on something so serious
as love
and as thrilling as the procedure
for betrayal
you explore the religious and the mundane
making a mockery of
the sanctions
you fly away like a bird and come back
as a snake
like a transformer
you turn yourself into a truck
a jet
a chopper
in the acts of love on the tracks of lust
sipping dews
and bathing on the waterfalls of sexy
desires
and you do not mind what they say

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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Early Mornin Rain

In the early morning rain
With a dollar in my hand
With an achin in my heart
And my pockets full of sand
Im a long way from home
And I miss my loved ones so
In the early morning rain
With no place to go
Out on runway number nine
Big seven-o-seven set to go
But Im stuck here in the grass
Where the cold wind blows
Now the liquor tasted good
And the women all were fast
Well there she goes my friend
Well shes rollin down at last
Hear the mighty engines roar
See the silver bird on high
Shes away and westward bound
Far above the clouds shell fly

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song performed by Gordon Lightfoot
Added by Lucian Velea
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Apostrophe To Man

(On reflecting that the world
is ready to go to war again)

Detestable race, continue to expunge yourself, die out.
Breed faster, crowd, encroach, sing hymns, build
bombing airplanes;
Make speeches, unveil statues, issue bonds, parade;
Convert again into explosives the bewildered ammonia
and the distracted cellulose;
Convert again into putrescent matter drawing flies
The hopeful bodies of the young; exhort,
Pray, pull long faces, be earnest,
be all but overcome, be photographed;
Confer, perfect your formulae, commercialize
Bacateria harmful to human tissue,
Put death on the market;
Breed, crowd, encroach,
expand, expunge yourself, die out,
Homo called sapiens.

poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Are they going to dropp the bomb?

Are they going to
dropp the bomb or not,
the though went through my head
and just outside Walvisbay
at a secret airport
nuclear bombs were stacked
on pallets in a row
glowing like copper
with tips looking like lead
and lights were blinding up ahead
and Buccaneer bombers
were ready to go
and special force soldiers
were patrolling the perimeter
and to this day
I do not know
what happened there
and what decisions were made
and what role
played fate

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poem by Gert Strydom
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Isolated And Distant They Are Detached

There are so many people out of touch,
With life, themselves, others and their surroundings...
That the word 'Reality' could be painted ten feet tall,
On the side of a jumbo jet...
And they 'still' would try to convince those viewing it,
What appears is not yet in their vision to believe.
That's how isolated and distant they are detached,
From themselves, their minds to accept the comfort...
Of living in denial and rejection.

'Get away from me.
You are always talking with negativity.
These children today are no different than we were.
They are just seeking to be hugged and loved.
It is foolish to suggest they express disrespect,
Because they lack discipline, identity and a swift kick...
Where it can be felt.
I have always shown my kids by example,
They can do whatever they please.'

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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