The poet, as the life force, what fuels their muse, and the inspiration of their poems. "WHY I WRITE?" They say You are different How am I different, I have not a clue Pain comes to everyone born as a woman How we look at things, the nature of it all Our survival depends Yes, I am different, I am distinctive I am fire, I am water, I am heart Everything is woven into one I carry Words that are fierce and pierce your heart Subdued and benumbed into a sea of seahorses Do not define, by what you see or by what you hear Stories are brought by breeze, gone by the wind Rather you see me as me You accept me as me A scroll writer from the ancient Anubis Now scattered to earth by Brahma Then will you know whether I'm poles apart. © SHEILA ANN PACKIRNATHAN Malaysia ****** THE RED ROSE Like green leaves we live in prime spring, the nightingales in boughs often sing, I saw a rose blooming in March, With a smile, my heart wishes to catch, Young, beautiful, active in a red dress, I know her name has a great bless! Eyes are dancers an messengers, She is as a queen among the flowers, With inflaming glances, she has bright beam, As a piper in a soft poppy dream I whisper. priestly words in tranquil tempest, The bee sat proudly on her breast, I sent my sighs to carry the bee away, Fears, tears, groans with me in a way, Like a diamond, full of purity Smile is the mark of her beauty. Her light is a sweet harbinger of love Cherry lips, whiter than lily dove. A heart is a temple of delight, A face is a perfumed light, Her eyes and lips, a passionate anthem To my temple, the smile is the open sesame. Tunes are quiet with the tossing grass, The longest lie I have with a blushing lass. Blissful union with her sweet spirit, Splendor, melody, and little sunlit Shake a shoulder, my eyes fast shine, I evince the sore story with the line. Like a shadow, dreams are fast done, I feel sad when the rose is gone! © AHMED YASIR DHAIN Iraq ****** CONSUMING PASSION OF A POET When the fervor was restricted to an unnamed flow When the imprisoned soul lost its way in a world of sorrows, When an ardent love didn't find its heartfelt soul, When a fiercely energetic aura got lost in an apathetic air, When a melodramatic intensity was chained by a phlegmatic being, That lost emotion became a poet in me! When an amorous strength became cold, When a hot-blooded stamina was cursed by a passionless person, When an aroused love became steamy, When sensual lines turned into sizzling eagerness, When a torrid drama couldn't withstand the zealous Wave during melodrama, That mercurial soul became a poet in me!! ©SONAL RAO India ****** I AM POETRY Where would you find me? In the vagaries of love, Or the vicissitudes of war, Or, all that which lies in between? The rising of the sun, And the setting of the moon And all those moments that lie in between? In the waking of the consciousness, and the lulling into sleep, And all those junctures that fall in between? The harshness of reality The gossamer of dreams And all that matter, which lies in between? The exactitude of words, And the cloudiness of thoughts, And all the bits of psyche that lie in between? The euphoria of arrivals, And the anguish of departures, And all those emotions that lie in between. ©SHWETA SAHAI India ****** Our muse fans the flame, If ink runs dry today, We shall write with our blood. © USMAN ABDULKARIM Nigeria ****** BRIDGE OF WORDS Between the shores of difference, Where conflict's waters churn, A bridge of verse extends its planks For those who wish to learn. Each stanza forms a steppingstone Across the troubled tide, Each metaphor a handrail firm To guide us side by side. In rhythm's gentle constancy We find a common beat, Where enemies might pause to hear Their mirrored hearts compete. For poetry speaks languages That borders cannot claim, It weaves through walls and barricades With whispers soft as rain. Through sonnets, ghazals, haiku, psalms - Our shared humanity Flows free of doctrine, creed, or land In pure simplicity. So let us build with careful words These bridges, arch by arch, That strangers might become as friends As toward each other march. For peace is not the absence of Our differences displayed, But rather how we honor them In verses newly made. © CONCETTA PIPIA U.S. ****** Beloved Bard On this day let verses rise high like dawn-lit, that hue in the skies. Let your ink traverse both mountain and valley. Let words soar like a kite, like raindrop sprinkles. Let the whispers echo in the jungle of soul. Let it find time and place in sorrow or delight. Let inks sail across, across the sea of life. Let its rhyme relive pain. Let its rhythm awake, numb. © NYOK M. MARENG Sudan ****** A POET'S QUILL My quill writes as my mind thinks Words come into focus as it goes Dictating ideas, thoughts, quotes Expanding the scope of daily life Experiences we've dealt nonstop A shooting, crash, birth, war, death A yo-yo effect that grips us all Into a paradox scheme in writing Embracing truth and compassion My quill depicts the emotion of love How it affects human nature relationships The connection between family and loved ones Interactions among people we barely know Those we work every day at a busy place Familiar faces on the bus transit or subway My quill moves towards our Mother Nature The beautiful and majestic sun and flowers Celestial heavenly bodies and oceanic waters Thunderous skies, pitter patter of raindrops Hailstorms, winter snow pileups along the roads Atmospheric deluge, tornadoes, earthquakes My quill continues to extend to wildfires Destroying acres of land, habitat sanctuaries Creatures big and small go extinct, dying Affecting our environment and ecosystem Global warming is a real problem some say, a hoax It is an essential element of our life, here on earth. The power of my imagination can go furthermore As my quill will never rest upon events, stories told Being a poet, sharing, inspiring everyone to read our work. © GLORIA MAGALLANES-LOEB U.S. ****** MY PEN SPEAKS POETRY My pen speaks poetry Words of deep passion and feelings Confessions and goals It is an unburdening Of my heart, mind and soul To write out all my frustrations Express the beauty I see everyday My pen speaks poetry In its own special way. © DONNA McCABE UK