Sakina Shikari paints

Kevin M. Hibshman writes

Spring Is Gonna Unwind U

Essence of tart cherry.

Promise of honeysuckle.

Glass growing thru cracked pavements will truly shine.
New graffiti for newer times.
How we all have been trying to feel new.
A vibe so clear and fresh and good coming right for you.
We will be so beautiful as we bloom!

Let us be unstoppable when we boom.

 Hibi -- Fukase Masahisa

Anoucheka Gangabissoon writes

Shadiness of life~~~~

Say, what would you make of life 

Everything about it gives the impression

That we are free 

Free to live, to be, to love, to choose

To decide for ourselves 

Free to make things happen

To break things even 

Yet

In some other way 

It sounds so fishy!

Yes, why would the higher powers 

Give us so much freedom

And even remain at our disposal 

Ready to grant us our wishes

If we prayed honestly and with a pure heart!

Why, are we Gods, 

And are the higher powers our servants?

Pray, such can never be 

For our fates are chosen not by ourselves

Our fates are already pre set 

Yet

Why would we be given so much power 

So much freedom

So much authority 

In a world where living has no aim

In a world filled with abstraction 

And false pleasures?

Pray, worry I so much about my own existence 

Worry I so much that ready I am to forsake life's dance

Yes, 

So many paths are thrust on our faces

Each imposing its own truth on us 

Each bidding us to recognize it as genuine

Yet 

Of the integrity of each, we have no solid proof!

Life is tricky 

Life worries me

I live as if I were an animal in a glass cage 

From outside, I can be observed

But from where I am, I see only the blue skies 

Veiled and mysterious!

Why, to the higher powers do I choose to bow 

I am not one of the Gods

I am a mere particle of dust, a grain of sand 

Lost somewhere on the vast shore of the universe

To the whims of my own existence I am lost 

Someday, I trust, I shall be allowed to come out of my cage

And see!

 

 The Glass Cage -- Pierre Lamare

Heather Jephcott writes

Love's Missing

You ask me 

what it feels like, 

this missing that accompanies love.

It hurts 

through to my finger tips 

and then it leaves 

only to return 

some time later.

Will the missing ever leave? 

I hope not! 

The pain seeps from my heart 

bound to precious memories 

bringing trembling lips 

and smiles.

 

Missing You -- Maria Pace-Wynters