December 3, 2023
October/November, we offered a visual art/poetry challenge to our Facebook Group members with the option of choosing one of two images. Out of the twelve entries, seven remarkable poets were chosen, their senses in tune, painting vivid imagery with both their keen perceptions, creative perspectives , thoughts and words.
THE HAND'S LAMENT: A MOBILE MELODY
In the palm of my hand, a portrait lies,
A man alone, striding tracks of steel,
Within my clasp, our memories harmonize,
A tale of loss concealed beneath a digital seal.
A secret dance of stolen words unfold,
You walked away, distant as a ghost,
Through the vibrant canvas, your absence molds,
While my fingers traced the path you chose.
Each touch a riddle, each swipe a plea,
To bridge the gap that remains untamed,
Yet in this handheld abyss, you break free,
As pixels flicker, our love remains unclaimed.
On handheld relic, a world apart,
A screen's reflection of love's remorse,
These train tracks symbolize my broken heart,
As I clutch your fading presence, my life's discourse.
But still, I cling to this device, afraid to release,
Afraid to let the echoes of you dissolve away,
For in this mobile realm, hope finds its peace,
And this hand embraces the beauty of our yesterday.
© CONCETTA PIPIA
- A TRAIN -
As a child she could hear the sound
Of the train, upon the railroad tracks
From outside her bedroom window
Resounding, amidst the floor cracks
A warm, gentle breeze, within the air
Sit, at her desk, stare, dream & write
Imagine, a world, different than hers
Diverse place seemingly out of sight
Away from all the chaos, all the hurt
Away from adversity, disdain & strife
Where her heart, soul, could be free
Where there existed, some other life
Yet 'er soul was indeed, ever so torn
Amidst family responsibility & heart
She knew, that was expected, of her
Knowin' not another way t' be 'r part
Alas, remain'd encased 'n that room
Loud voices, amid the winds, circlin'
Heart heavier, brimming, with hope
Dreams, of that life, o' encompassin'.
© MENA SISTO
"UNTITLED" Whither thou art going o crown of creation? The path thou moves on, doth it lead to thy destination? Art thou coming out of the dark place or going inside? Art thou fed up with woeful life and going to commit suicide? If thou art ignorant of the path thou moves on, Then thy precious life thou art going to ruin. Thou art alone moving on the path, are others moving on the wrong one? Or art thou moving on wrong path, but thou feel it will lead to thy destination. First contemplate before moving forward, if thou art on the right track If not o crown of creation, then hurriedly return back.
© SHAFKAT AZIZ HAJAM
Jammu Kashmir, India
JOURNEY OF LIFE
Journey of life never
comes back, my friend.
Walking along one way traffic
is life's trend
Nor sorrow changes,
nor the jeer and cheer bend
Going alone in a lone path
be our journey end.
Never look back
to the past life to extend
Past is past, that will never
return at ones end
Let me befriend myself
without anyone to fend
As I will sleep beneath the grave
alone, alone in the end.
© PRASANNA BHATTA
LIFE IS A JOURNEY
If to walk alone, then I must for there's no pain, no strain in it
Across the valley of death were fear may appear
I shall fasten my belt of faith around my heart
So it can shed a light for the path of my mind
If no track lay ahead but a dead end, am confronted with
May I gather the strength from deep within and face the challenge head on
For there's no fear, no retreat, when the mind is focused on the goal
If to pack my worries and leave them behind that I'd willingly do
If to leave behind the painful past I'd surely do so for I need to move on
Yesterday's pain will be tomorrow's gain for me.
© JAYNOBO JAYMES Papua New Guinea
with my springual pen
hueing purity and love
faded ashy blooms
"As I go downward hill into the swarm
of sakura blooming
Flowers drizzled with snowflakes sprinkling
Dainty dandelions, the petals are folding
Awaiting patiently for winters fiddling
Withered colors of leaves are invigorating
Beautiful Violas grow in shing
Golden hues of roses are flourishing
The dance of autumn is seductively mesmerizing."
The nib broke
Leaving me ashes to end my letter
© SHEILA ANN Malaysia