Poetry
It Changed My Life a Little
By Issac Sullivan
ephemeral wave
came and went quickly
thinkin’ ‘bout it still
followin the schedule
trusting the rhythm we’re in
till a wave took me
landed again soon
still feel the cloudy residue
eternal time too
now I see Earth build
humanity into it
not the other way
thought came with the wave
right on Earth to Earth live live
so needed the life
Photo by Alexandria Somirs
Buchenwald
By Fabiano Soares
I was born in 1929 in Dresden,
As I grew older, my parents were rebuilding the country
Next to millions of others survivors and migrants
Skins of all shades, religions of all liturgies…
And we use to hear on the radio:
– We need to save our nation – they said.
– We need to clean our nation. – And that sounded so right.
Looking for Trouble
by Katelynne Davis
A layer of fog, worthy of London
though the city wasn’t.
I walked into it, hoping to be swallowed.
Though the night was set for horror,
street light slashed by tree branches
and every glow only making it harder to see
I was not scared.
There was nothing lurking in that darkness that could make my life more ordinary
and that was what I truly feared.
I am almost twenty-six
and I would rather face a dragon
than a life narrowed by envelopes with numbers
arriving in installments.
I followed the will-o-the-wisps
and willed they not be streetlamps
Thinking how Irish legends moved between worlds
I splashed in the puddles; no avail.
Last night an owl landed in my path and looked at me
its kill – a young hawk – in its talons.
I wanted it so much to be a sign
of – anything.
As invisible as I try to melt
I still pass a cafe, face a glimpse –
and my life twists up in my stomach, reminding me
I can’t escape that way for long.
Photo by Katelynne Davis
Daylight
By Alexandria Somirs
Feathering softly as a whisper
Ticking ling strongly shades of fire
Drinking in morning hour
Escaping pillows of nighttime slumber
Time is yellow to blue windy dreams
The rippling PAST, flowers into daylight
Photo by Alexandria Somirs
Rachel
By Sebastian Temlett
Do you mind if I dance with her?
A casual shrug and muttered reply
I take her hand and draw her in
Stealing glances which she gives freely
I miss a step Read More
Long Shadows of Morning Winter
By Multi-Verse Poet
The mornings that weep,
The shades that creep,
The breeze that bites,
The Spring that might…
Photo by Alexandria Somirs
Monday’s Poem: St. Dwynwen’s Day
By Katelynne Davis
There are two patron saints for lovers.
The more popular, Saint Valentine, covers
the letter-writers
the lovers of daughters
the incarcerated, the hearts behind bars, the glass walls, the phones pressed to ears
the lovers in a dangerous time
the names that were erased
the arch of summer and winter
forgotten birthdays and who-is-who
the worthy, strong, and powerful
the love that is blind
the inconstant moon
the hearts counting beats on death row
the notes signed yours
Chaucerian literature
flower-crowned skulls
the mating rituals of birds
epileptics, keys, and men in love, with whomever
His counterpart, the lesser-known Welsh Dwynwen, protects
the women in place-names
the rejecters
the heartbroken, sore, battered, beaten and raped
the calls for help
those unable to marry, and
those who remain unmarried
those who drink to forget
the frozen
those who need three chances
the forgiving
the well-meaning
the runners in forests
the hermits
the ruined churches
sandstorms
places of reservation
the foolish nicknames and mispronunciations
both the recollections and the misremembered
sick animals
sweethearts
my soreness that he doesn’t nor ever will want me
and all women, even who send out love that does not return
Photo by Katelynne Davis
Weary Wings
By Amedeus Somirs
Crossing seas of opportunities,
Stride by stride making our way through.
Looking down into the abyss…
Uncertain where to go.
Feeling tempted to go further,
While lost memories from distant past,
Want to keep you,
Hold you back.
Your heart beats strong and bold,
Reminding you to keep a hold.
Don’t you worry, don’t you fear.
For anywhere you may be,
No matter how far or near,
You’ll always find your way back home.
You’ve felt it
Just how free,
Freedom really feels.
Don’t feel weary of the wind
Beneath your wings.
Trust the way it flows,
You’ll discover so much more.
Keep you head held high,
Reaching for the sky.
Nothing can stop you now,
So don’t come crashing,
Down
Upon
Yourself.
Photo by Alexandria Somirs
Trust
By Multi-Verse Poet
Trust whispers to you like a lock on a page,
The stool you sit on when your legs are weary,
An unbreakable hedge for invaders of all trades,
That silent friend that lights you up when you are teary.
Trust opens up back doors to your own personal book,
Your story unveiled to a trusty, old friend,
Unlocks passages for your old, weary soul to mend.
Photo by Multi-Verse Poet
Proper Writes Leuven 