Hilary D Zamora writes and draws

"The notion that addiction is this perilous monster inside one’s mind is a very real truth. It changes and confuses you, only to direct you down an abrupt and steep descent. You are at the monster’s mercy. You’ll merge with it, offering up your life, while it eats you away softly, slowly, diligently, and painfully while you are superficially distracted by it. The monster is your lover, your one true friend, your deceptive soul mate. It’s the silhouette lurking in the corners of your psyche and thought. You willingly give everything for it, because your passion for escape is the one thing that is closest to your darkened heart. In essence you’re left there, revealing your sinister core. "~Hilary D Zamora

 

Ramesh Rai writes

I Searched For You

I searched for you in Mosque, Church,

Temple, Gurdwara, and at so many places
where you are being chanted
in various names of God or
any powerful spirit of nature

I found solace and peace
for the time being
but when I returned to my hermitage
disappointment starred me

I sat in meditation
chanted your various names, but still
disappointment followed me

So, I came out beneath the open sky
in the field, then
I saw you ploughing fields
sowing seeds of life
without caring about sun and rain
for creation of a new life
for survival of the existing life

I saw you in blooming flowers
without caring about sun, rain, thunder and storms
spreading thy fragrance,
pleasing all passers by
I saw you being ripened with fruits and corns
for nourishment of all lives

I saw you making roads
hugging sun, rain and bitter cold
in your bosom, for all the travelers of the world
making them reach
to the goal of their lives

I saw you, building mansions
irrespective of seasons for comfort of lives
self residing under the roof of a thousand ventilations
and rejoicing the natural phenomenon of life

I saw you in whore lanes
selling her body for survival of her life
and survival of lives of dependents
and of her kids

I saw you in whore lanes
entertaining her customers
to rejoice in the fun of life

I saw you flying in open sky
chirping the song of freedom
choosing the grains in the field
for amusement of natural life.

I saw you in shambles
sacrificing the life of cattle
being slaughtered brutally
for making delicious dishes
to rejoice in the fun of life

I saw you in the fragrance
of thy sweat coming out
due to days' toil

I saw you in changing seasons of life

I saw you giving rain and light

I saw you in sky, water, in land

I saw you
evolving for creation of new life
for a new fuller life and its decay.

Dave Van Ronk says

Theft is the first law of art.

Reena Prasad writes

Sultry Ripples

                                                                                                                            

My nights have forgotten to don black
watching sweat's silvery mizzle rival the dawn
that stops awhile to watch me sigh in bliss
before darting away to sing
of our thirst's riparian dams
while the glass panes tremble, tuning
into dubious frequencies of hunger's
vocal concoctions
and propped up on pillows
digging into them
are bare feet caught amidst
shifting power equations

They have abandoned me
their inkiness curling up
into every concave cove of need
and sleep wanders-- a forlorn wraith
heaving herself into warm attics
wherever she finds night nestling

They nuzzle and guzzle-- these two
while I lie awake
my dreams wearing the discarded robe
to keep a frangible earth spinning

 

Sirinya shoots

Rik George writes

First Date

You laughed at clowns shambling by.

We cheered the parading elephants

marching to drums and calliope.

Trapeze artists, twirling their capes,

suggested on earth their aerial grace.

A donkey passed pulling the rope

that dragged behind him a dozen clowns

I bought us burgers and lemonade.

You ate my pickle.  I ate your chips.

Vendors came selling balloons

and pictures of the watching crowd.

I bought you a monkey on a stick.

“Thank you,” you said.  “I love a parade,”

and kissed me lightly on my cheek.

 

Laurie Kuntz writes

The swish of fallen

autumn leaves

burnt red memories