Jeff Norris shoots

Tsukimi

 

Felino A. Soriano writes

Sedentary Fathoms

                              |section three|

  The way these bodies

                        lean,

   interactive

            angles.  And

 as the mother pulls

the daughter into

   positional embrace, a/all

  father/s pulse and 

interact with fathoms alive

     in the joy of familial

   decimals moving home in

  -to the whole of determined

       affirmation

 

 The Embrace -- Estefan Gargost

Narayanan Nair writes

ON LIFE & LAUGHTER

Life is an odd mix

Of sorrow and laughter.

Sorrow at the earthmates

Languishing in want,

Denied, deprived, lost, 

Abandoned in hunger

For flyover, dam, port, 

In development spins

By crafty leader dudes, 

Pocketing piles of dough.

Worse still are some,

Bullied, threatened,

Shot bloody down for

Views against a creed!

But one truly shudders at the

Violated, slit, annihilated,

Tender buds of tomorrow

Barely out of our cradles!

Do laugh at the follies

Of cosmetic displays

And hollow eloquences

Of political dons. 

Hoping against hope of

Fascists in waiting!

Do have a hearty smile

If  you share your bread,

Or chip in your mite for

A roof over the heads

Of bare forsaken bros.

Or free, and wake, them up,

From the stranglehold of dope

Under a gloomy lonesome sky.

 

Sintesi Fascista -- Alessandro Bruschetti

Santosh Bakaya writes

THE FOG

PART TWO

Section 17 

The fireflies stopped flitting, the birds their trilling.

The tension was killing, the screams blood chilling.

Cold radiated from the earth, gone was the mirth.

The air smelt of malevolence and of painful dearth.

The trees went mute, the forest went back to sleep.

Then rippling laughter resounded in the forest deep.

As two figures emerged from behind the trees 

And broke into dance, playfully sang the breeze.

Hand in hand by the river bank they danced.

From behind the pine tree, I watched entranced.

The moon was like a seraph, sublime and serene.

Stars twinkled and winked like voyeurs keen.

A sudden gale hit them with malevolent ingenuity,

Spitting airy expletives and curses with impunity.

Soon the trees were in its tempestuous embrace,

The gale like a man armed with a sinister mace.

When the sun peeped from behind a cloudy veil

I thought I again heard a blood curdling wail.

Or was it my fertile imagination playing tricks?

 I tried to shake off this scene of a weird mix.

Tendrils of mist here and there surreptitiously looked.

They were like lost ghosts and had me hooked.

I sprang up from the ground, eyes still groggy.

The sun played peekaboo from a sky still foggy.

In the Fog -- Tran Tuan