A Matter of Fact

A walking talking archive of events gone by,
he witnessed them all, with an unbiased eye.
Right time and place he happened to be there
looking to take advantage, he just didn’t care.

He wasn’t born man, so he didn’t grow old,
and his boyish looks were a gift to behold.
Mostly he was a he, but he was also a she,
with the attributes of either he chose to be.

He had been an emperor in ancient times,
also a writer of poems and nursery rhymes.
Alexander the Great had him as a close friend,
and Cleopatra used him when choosing her end.

Throughout the years he has always been there,
Samson cursed him for the loss of his hair.
He provided the fiddle which Nero played
and assisted Adolf Hitler to his bunker grave.

[...] Read more

poem by Orlando Belo
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Blind in Bed

Soft eyes, and still face grows blindness,
Your gloom besets when shut are the eyes.
Blind beauty promises unique changes always enormous,
The sleep is a song of the void, the lies.
My room sinks into boredom when he arrives,
He is a good doctor, wonderful and fit to be severe,
When he arrives medicine has come that deprives,
But it helps us with archives, and it makes us adhere.
The key of the doctor is near the bed of another man,
I cannot reach the different person, he is a sanity.
May God deliver his help to me when He can,
Like a doctor or a nurse of Christianity.

poem by Naveed Akram
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The circle is cast

The circle is cast and we are between worlds,
Lost and found, still grounded yet adrift, here
Lies a rift beyond the bounds of time,
Here birth and death, night and day,
Joyful sorrow reign as one.

Align your spirit with the Goddess's hand,
Slicing the air with acts of grandeur when you may
As well be dancing circles by the moon, grinding into the dust
The ashes of our trust in the laws of man.
As our Lore enchants the east before setting south.
Only to awaken in the west as the north opens up his mouth
Bellowing words of wisdom captured only in the stills of times archives.

poem by David Lacey
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Going Nowhere

On the blue icicles
you were colliding with orbiting electrons

naked legs on rocking chair
were expecting the visual words to spook

for clairvoyance with the sun decline beyong borders

my eyes are damp, I know the bottom
was echoing after the shipwreck nevertheless,
archives were swimming in muddy water.

Can you defeat the throb of pain?

The fake drunkenness of bailouts, it was
still not happening – the whiteness of dawn, only
gray clouds over the peaks, speckled with

orange blooms, the shadows of red blood,
a million despairs of avenging marriages

[...] Read more

poem by Satish Verma
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You Are Immortal

You are immortal;
When you are in touch with the,
non-physical, elements of yourselves.

How will you handle Gaia’s transition?
You will do this by working with her Goddess Alchemy.
Your body knows the connection between the iron,
in your blood and the iron core of Gaia.

Human blood is an archive of the Cosmos.
That is why evil men spill our precious fluid,
through violence. They want from us,
what they do not see in themselves.

Now is the time to go deeply into your blood,
which is the very source of your individuality.

As you move deeper into awakening,
your blood gets extremely activated.
This is happening now,

[...] Read more

poem by Ray Lucero
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The Faceless Name

25Jan08
In memory of Josephine, June 1991

From age of two she knew your name
Learnt to spell it out completely
All meant nothing and quite the same
Nothing seemed to fit quite neatly.

She saw your gown that hung inside
Her wardrobe amongst her tiny clothes
Purple, flowing. Spots aside,
Enchanting, but unworn since the oath.

The writing of your hand a mystery
That appears on most certificates
Of proof that you are her history
Lest one day this knowledge eradicates.

Your face on pixels she knows by heart
But none her archives can withdraw from

[...] Read more

poem by Tiffanie Lein
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Time Tells Time

My mirror tries to convince me that I’m old.
Yet I have a fresh face I’m told.
So these furrows in this body I behold, as
I recognize skin-deep beauty does not rebirth.

Still, I remember things way back yonder:
Sculptured summer grass,
Children ringing around roses
With Pockets filled with poses,
Barren tree leaves
Floating in the breeze...woman!
Waste no time on younger years
For the past archives them.

I’ll never be older than the goddess of art.
My lover, you'll never be older than thou art.
Let the earlier years delight in the older ones
For to understand the old-
The new must been known.

[...] Read more

poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
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Incandescent Dragon Destiny

Self-feeding, the fire
desires its own warmth, and warms
to its own desire

Fire and brimstone lay all bare: birth, mirth, dearth earth berth soon prepare.
Great, low, brash dash, ash grate's despair, pride rider, beggar, rich, austere.
Play folds after brief fame flare, tide turns, life burns, urn earns; no prayer
staves off brave, weakling wear and tear, which singes all beyond repair.

Time self-devours, each century is swallowed by that which follows free
from here until eternity. Frost's 'Fire and Ice' identity
from tip to tail tale pours, paws flee unveiled combustion nth degree
that scorch, torch, porch and family: our incandescent destiny.

Today, blank slate but barely scratched
must soon, with predecessors matched,
discover that it is dispatched
beneath time's stubble that sees hatched
new generation Lethe latched
which, pauper, plays with paper patched

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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This Document Is Proof

Always,
There will be 'someone'...
Sifting through archives,
Dusted by time and cobwebbed...
Looking for anything done by someone,
To discredit one's integrity and achievements.

For purposes to feel better,
About a doing done to undermine one's character.
To then feel whatever sought and revealed,
Diminishes any respect given,
The doer of accomplishments...
Deserves and gets.

'Here it is. Finally.
It took me years to uncover it.
But this document is proof,
That there was a time in his early youth...
He actually was discovered,
Not to have been able to tie his own shoes.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Risk Taken Unforgotten For The Archives

To split or not split wrists...
Seems to be such a self indulging understaking.

However...
It is the taking of risks,
And witnessing others stirred up in fits...
That eliminates the wish to end one's existence.

To privately decide to say goodbye to life...
Is so anti-climatic.
If one is seeking drama...
There is nothing like taking centerstage,
With spotlight.

And giving those in attendance,
The best mooning you can do!

With that done...
Will indeed become,
A risk taken unforgotten for the archives.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Treasure The Gifts

I remember the music.
It burns in my soul.
It came to me early
and I became whole.

I remember the words.
They burn in my brain.
They came to me later
from where they had lain

Dormant and quiet,
still as can be.
And as these words spill
they've become me.

These gifts from my God
are blessings to treasure.
The notes and melodies
and rhythms I measure

[...] Read more

poem by Edwina Reizer
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This September

This September I have turned yellow and seventy

The sky's translucence no longer mystifies

By holding out hazy undefined amber promises

This air is still crisp and there is promise of

Excitement on the leafy floor of the forest

As the mongoose scurries among the yellow leaves

Tens of thousands of zany butterflies of many hues

Have burst out of the bushes on the Tirumala hills

Striking the stunned panes of the passing cars.

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poem by Jagannath rao Adukuri
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Product For the Archives

Those that ridiculed and found time to do it...
Can not be too bright.
Not to percieve actions taken,
Like these today...
Do not come back seeking,
A return to nibble for a bigger bite.

'Now...
Where are those who claim to have 'some' insight? '

It's funny how things twist and turn,
To ultimately leave those frazzled.
Change has exploded upon the scene,
With a tremendous dose of 'wake up'.
Stable foundations aren't so stable it seems.

And those that did not catch it.
Or expect it to come as it has...

'Hello? Anybody home?

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Stuffed Silence

Winds define the path now, in order not to submit
the discovery of another guilt.
The glory stumbles.
Before the altar, man becomes a souvenir.
Mechanically you walk like a robot, proud and erect,
cannot commit suicide.

Secret of discovering a faith was, not to kill yourself.
Shivering in awakened reality,
you grope with cauterized vision,
to resolve the conflict.
The revelation does not come.
Unchained freedom will come late,
when you become the destiny.

Everseeking a revolution, brain will find a false excuse.
The archives do not give a clue,
not exactly the circumstances,
but history collected the dirt.
Concepts could not bring out,

[...] Read more

poem by Satish Verma
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Highly Sought Out

Thanks for taking time to write to me,
Thanks for taking time to receive me,
Thanks for taking time to understand my muse;
Going through it!
personally,
Highly sought out;
And like your poetic accomplishments in life.

Archives, hives, knives, wives, lives, rives, fives, gives, jives, strives! !
In and around the world;
And like a new look,
But, with unique acts in the land of your muse.

Of the interest,
Of your interest,
Of my interest,
Like the appeal of your love;
Artistic!
Artistry,
Poetic artistry,

[...] Read more

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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With Hopes of Romanticizing a Condition

They have become accustomed to failure...
They can not let it go.
They've become identified with it.
And that is wished to be bestowed.
They dig through archives,
Seeking that which worked.
Something from the past...
They believe is everlasting.
Something done by someone then,
To bring their current frustrations to an end.
With hopes of romanticizing a condition...
That will lift them out of the doldrums they are in!
Complete with nostalgic delusions.
But they have become accustomed to failure...
They can not let it go.
They want someone with experience,
To show them the way.
And has it not been those with experience...
That has led them to despair?
Although they wish another point of view...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Louisa & Her Blue Guitar

A naked thigh has much to talk about
If its just approached right.
Just like girls who talk too much
In crowded barrooms like last night.
Just like our lisa, aint that right?
Conversations overheard,
Sacred silver dollars become petty change.
Suddenly red lipstick finds itself
On the wrong side of her age.
Just like our lisa, aint that strange?
And washed nylons bleed dirty tears
From a strangers window pane.
The red light cannot change the mood
Of the blue guitar thats played. blue guitar.
The sound of painted nails are playing.
Hi-ho silver, add another glass.
Good intentions can beat up sick attention
And louisa finishes last.
Oh goody, aint life a blast.
Hollow glance.

[...] Read more

song performed by Jewel
Added by Lucian Velea
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I lick my lips to taste our kiss from yesterday

I lick my lips to taste our kiss from yesterday-
Caress these scratches on my back
To revitalize your touch-

Does not the earth stop
When the soles of our feet kiss her surface
As I kiss you with my lips?

Our loves' glowing divinity-
Is it not this humanities new religion?
They revere we pay them heed not,
The Sun, moon, rainbows, stars alike-
Don't they shine only at your smiles' command?

You are that lighthouse on my dock
Beckoning my esprit-land ahoy!
It is easy to know we are soulmates,
Our faces share one image,
Our bodies, shadows-they share a breath-
Our embrass will never unglue-

[...] Read more

poem by Isunge Mwangase
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Are We Lost?

what they did to us
we want to deceive history
oppressed we tell them
cause, they are the masters,
effect, we are the slaves

the past dissolves like smoke
shaped like a mushroom in the sky
forget we do not just choose
curse, we seem to point, like a rocket
in the sky that the North has shot into space
beware! beware! that naked little girl ran
in the road of destruction,
screaming, now just a picture in the archives
of a long forgotten history,
she died, her name is written like an epitaph,

where are we? we like to forget
but the stigma of the tattoo still clings on our skin
not a rose, not a heart pierced by an arrow

[...] Read more

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dusted Traditions

You will not find the answers in books.
Or researching through archives,
For clues to undo subdued remorse.
Nothing found printed,
Can seal cracks in cement!
What is occurring has needed full attention,
With 'hands on' acknowledgement...
And not through documents!

Those who followed scholars,
From a time long gone...
Those deemed to be brilliant...
In the centuries they were born!
Living processed concepts of life,
In days romanced and passed...
Can not be found today,
On cobblestones paved...
Erased to support,
Those urban sounds now heard...
And around on ground,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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