Resonance--By Angelee Deodhar--India

Resonance

Outside the main temple, I sit on a large cool stone under a cloud filled sky, surrounded by the scent of citrus and mango blossom and listen to the drip of water from a pipe, only an occasional crow, koel or jungle babbler disturb the silence.  

I have an hour and a half to be quiet and write or copy down some passages from Thich Naht  Hanh’s book Present Moment Wonderful Moment…

sweet hot tea

the ashram stray curls up

at my feet

Angelee Deodhar, is an eye surgeon turned haiku poet, translator, and artist from India.  She has translated six books of haiku from English to Hindi. She has no personal website or blog. "Hot on the heels of her 2014 release of a collection of poetic prose containing haiku, Deodhar celebrates having edited Journeys 2015, an Anthology of International Haibun, highlighting authors in 15 different countries." - David McMurray, Editor, Asahi Haikuist Network, Japan

The All-Knowing God--By Suzanne Clement--United States

The All-Knowing God

I

can’t hide

my deeds and

my speech because

the strong eyes and ears

of my holy Father

see and hear my ways and words.

Suzanne Clement is a writer from Dover, New Hampshire.

Can You See the Beauty--By David M. Smith--United States

Can You See the Beauty

Can you see the beauty --- in a kind human’s soul

See past outer shells --- should be our goal

Do you see the love --- in acts of kindness

If we don't slow our lives down --- it leads to blindness

Can you see the birds dance --- in the early morn

Picked a rose for beauty --- get bit by her thorn

Did you notice the bee --- as he kissed the flower

Comforted a dying person --- in their darkest hour

Have you seen the sunrise --- been filled with joy

A smiling child's face --- opening a Christmas toy

Do you see falling stars --- streak across the sky

Will you wipe teardrops --- from a stranger’s eye

Look for inner beauty --- spread love all around

As dewdrops touch flowers --- then fall to the ground.

David M. Smith was born in Syracuse, New York in 1956. He began to write poetry at the age of 12. David was suffering from low self-esteem after mental abuse by his Father. A teacher asked him to write a poem. He did a great job and received a gold star on top of his paper. Inspired by that, he has been writing poetry since.

Fortress of Solitude--By Michael Todd--United States

Fortress of Solitude 

Clever how you assess blame, right and left,

Cold, hard cynic with the eyes of a child.

So far, yet close, aware we are bereft

Of marrow, merely to share life beguiled.

Cunning how, on surface I smile. In turn,

You feign deference. Taken by surprise,

Lessons learned, ignored, choose rather to spurn

The obvious, which led to this demise.

Chasing ghosts is foolish folly. That said,

You cannot take what is not mine to give.

This bridge is too narrow for two to tread.

To forget, divine, leaves none to forgive.

Fortress of solitude, in field of dreams,

Imprisoned; illusion not what it seems.

(Author’s Note: The fortress of solitude here, is a grave.)

Michael Todd aka Myke Todd has been writing and posting stories and poetry on social networking sites since 2006. He can currently be found at his dedicated poetry site... http://myketodd.blogspot.com/

God’s Never Too Busy--By Helen Dowd--Canada

God’s Never Too Busy

(Luke 11:9 & 10)

God's never too busy to answer our prayer,
No matter how small it may be.
He's willing and able our burdens to bear;
All our cares laid on Him sets us free.
God wants for His children to grow every day
More confident, trusting, reliant.
His ear is on every small thing that we say:
In His will, with our prayers He's compliant.

Luke chapter eleven, verse nine and verse ten
Says, "Ask, and most surely you'll find.
Just knock, and the door will be opened right then.
If you seek Him, you'll find peace of mind."
Christ bids us to come; let our thoughts be made known.
Our prayers to our Lord let's be sending.
He's waiting and watching right there by His throne,
And His ear to our voice He'll be bending.

Helen Dowd enjoys spending time at her computer, along side her husband of 56 years, writing poetry, story poems, stories about pets and life in general, as well as inspirational and Bible stories. She has one book published. Her stories and poems have been published in several Anthologies. She is presently a caregiver for her husband and sister, two dogs, four cats and 3 gold fish.

An Allegory of Fortitude--By Tine Perlas-Heraldo--United States

An Allegory of Fortitude

Kind Resilience is my twin;

this heart-and-soul's kin.

Hiding behind the moon, eclipsed

from the wrath of Fortuna's nemesis.

Every night and every day,

hurtling towards oblivion.

The quaint, little chirps resonate

a mile away from my imagination.

But the entwined fibers are thick,

like the wildest honey and vanity.

And like piney evergreens to last,

towards daybreak, we're steadfast.

Tine Perlas-Heraldo is a published poet that writes in both English and Tagalog since she was eleven years old. Her favorite poets include Walt Whitman, Emily Dickinson, Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton, and Allen Ginsberg. Some of her works were featured in poetry sites such as Cultured Vultures and Eyes + Words. She graduated from Sam Houston State University in Huntsville, Texas with a degree in Political Science. URL: writingwithtine.wordpress.com

Special Feature Collaborative Poem--By Gert Knop--Germany and Jack Horne--England

Mouthwatering Meals

(served in English, German and Spanish)

By Gert Knop and Jack Horne

Great from Germany

fine beef roulades

served with some dumplings

Grandma's old recipe

and a full-bodied red wine

Gutes aus Deutschland

feine Rinderrouladen

dazu die Klöße

Großmutters altes Rezept

und ein kräftiger Rotwein

Bueno de Alemania

rollo de carne vacuno

servido con albóndigas

vieja receta de la abuela

con un vino tinto jugoso

       ~~~~~~~~~~~

fish and chips with peas

or beef with yorkshire pudding

my favourite food

is high in cholesterol

and fattening...but yummy!

Fisch und Chips mit Erbsen

oder Rindfleisch mit Yorkshire Pudding

mein Lieblingsessen

ist reich an Cholesterin

macht dick ... aber ist lecker!

Pescado y patatas con guisantes

o carne de vaca con pudín de Yorkshire

mi comida favorita

es rica en colesterol

engorda ... pero es delicioso!

Down The Road We Came--By Robert Hewett Sr.--United States

Down The Road We Came

 Hot sand on our bare feet as down the road we came,

Carrying a stick, laughing quick, life was just a game.

Throwing a rock, kicking sand, waiting for the rain,

Whistling loud, mocking the birds, up and down the lane.

Swimming in the water hole, fishing in the creek,

Nothing sad, nothing bad, no happiness to seek.

Through the woods, we quietly ran to surprise a prey

Slingshots ready, rocks aplenty, hunting each day.

Close encounters with crawling critters gave us fright,

A slight at school, act the fool, enough for a fight.

Now I travel down the road many miles per hour.

In a hurry, lots of worry, life is so sour.

No smile, just shake my fist at drivers in my way

No happiness, peace and bliss, nothing nice to say.

Then my mind drifts away to days so long ago,

When my special friend and I lived life with a glow.

I moved away one winter Day; it made me sad.

Life was so very different; life was good and bad,

I cherish that time, we had, no fortune or fame

We were just happy little boys; down the road we came.

Robert Hewett Sr. was born in 1933 on a Texas cotton farm. He moved to Oklahoma City at Age 14 and entered the U. S Army from there in 1953. Robert has been writing poetry and short stories for his family and himself since his teen years, but is just now publishing his collection of works. His hobbies include writing poetry and stories; clock and watch collections; gardening and growing flowers and shrubs from cuttings. Most of his poetry tells a story, a gift from his father who was a master story teller. He has received numerous awards for his work in his professional life and for his writing. You can find some of his writings at "roberthewettsr.hubpages.com"

The Elephant in the Room--By Paul Callus--Malta

The Elephant in the Room

(Kyrielle)

The big headlines cause sensation,

Media’s chosen information.

Manipulative, they entomb

the big elephant in the room.

Stress is put on the suggestive

keeping tongue and the mind active.

They sweep aside with furtive broom

the big elephant in the room.

Gain is high on the agenda

grabbing votes in referenda.

They hide, on purpose, I presume

the big elephant in the room.

Many topics are selective;

they are made to look attractive.

Who dares to tickle with a plume

the big elephant in the room?

Paul Callus is a Maltese author who writes both in Maltese and English. He has contributed to several anthologies. Apart from poetry he writes lyrics for songs and has published two books, one a story book aimed at children (related to his experience as a teacher) and a historical book based on research.

Grandpa--By Jennifer Criss--United States

Grandpa

When she lovingly held your face

in her hands and cried,

“I’m not ready!”

I realized in that moment

I wasn’t either.

We crowded your bedside and watched

as you took your last breath

I realized in that moment

that it was too late for you

to answer the questions I never asked

or relay the stories I hadn’t realized

I wanted to know

I realized in that moment

as the life left your eyes

how fleeting life is and how

little time we truly have

Jennifer Criss graduated from Ball State University with a minor in Creative Writing, a lifelong passion.  She is currently collaborating on an anthology for older adults and helps lead a writing support group. Jennifer writes mostly short stories but has discovered a love for writing poetry.  Her poetry has been published in Poebita Magazine. She now works at Ball State, is a busy mother of two girls and her pen keeps moving. She is an editorial assistant with Indiana Voice Journal.

My Beloved Poet--Blanca Alicia Garza--United States

My Beloved Poet

I wasn't looking when I found you, 

but I've been expecting you forever. 

You turned into everything I wished and wanted, 

bringing peace to my tormented soul. 

You turned my gray days into colorful rainbows, 

while each of your tender words were tattooed 

deep inside my heart. You've caressed me 

without touching me. Your unconditional love 

returned my smile and faith in love.

Blanca Alicia Garza is a published poet from Las Vegas, Nevada. She has appeared in two collaborative poems on Whispers and An Outreach Poem to Paris.  She also has several poems published at The Poet Community, www.thepoetcommunity.com . She enjoys spending time with her children, grandchildren and "Jack" her Cat.

Requiem--By Brian Strand--England

Requiem

nothing..

then silence,

sad faces!

then tears

emotion..

regret..

then pain

(a verbless poem)

Brian Strand has created short poetic forms including 'broken monoku' (a haiku variation) and 'footle' (a trochaic monometer with witty, topical, etc themes) and Captioned Cartoon, an Ekphrasis combining his art and poetic interests. He has published a seven kindle ebook series Poetic forms; A Strand of Verse; My Choice Strand Verse; A Strand Guide; Christianity Explained; A Strand critique; and Captioned Cartoon Ekphrasis. Brian has written nearly 200 Amazon reviews and is a Wiki poetry and art editor.

The Covenant Cape--By A. Michele Leslie--United States

The Covenant Cape

Such majesty his guileless dreams relay,

he wins applause from those who dedicate

their lives to God. His many coloured cape

enraptures them—this meekness wins his stay.

Only the Temple is his stage. No display

for honour’s sake from him. But wait!

Some assay, “The Son!” and seal the fate

his carapace, the Cross, would but obey.

Though God protected Joseph by his coat,

this second Child bled his love to bloat

a callous universe, bestowing salvation 

for the sinner caught at misery’s station.

With a faith too great he gave his all.

Each reprobate in warmth does this recall.

A. Michele Leslie is a poet and playwright who lives in Sauk Rapids, Minnesota with her husband, David, and two cats.

Live On--By Cindy Hutchings--United States

Live On

Survivors stand
among ruins

bravely carry on
where others have fallen

being spared
they hold strong

though vulnerable to changing winds
they draw up inner reserves

bolstering resolve
to greet next generation

teach them
how to endure

when all that is known
has been cut, cleared.

Cindy Hutchings is a member of Northwest Renaissance & Striped Water Poets in Auburn, WA, USA. She graduated from the University of Washington with a BA in English and Women Studies. She writes with passion about nature, events, and social causes. Her poetry is shared online at QuillandParchment.com and http://artwithaheart-forum.tumblr.com. Cindy’s first poetry chapbook, Tree Talk, was published by MoonPath Press in 2015.

Battle-Stained--By Alan McAlpine Douglas--United Kingdom

Battle-Stained

Old Coliseum, fright of Rome
I see your toothless grin
and know you too have suffered much
you house of mortal sin

You made your life, your fortune too
by grinding heels on those
who fought and won, or tried, and died
to make your bloody shows

You still stand tall against the sky
but your fabric’s getting thin
and I can see your wrinkled face
and know you did not win

For while you keep on crumbling on
real life stirs, and swirls about
your feet, now seen as made of clay
in truth, thumbs down, you’re out ....

Alan McAlpine Douglas, father to 5 and grandfather to 3, has been writing poetry since 1993. His idiosyncratic voice has produced thousands of poems in this time, and he finds it quite hard to stay serious, even when he means to. He also enjoys writing spoofs, using well-known poems or songs like Clementine or In the Ghetto as his models.

Dusk--By Michael Escoubas--United States

Dusk

This
is the
dream I had
amid this mix
of popcorn yellow--
this blaze of blue-purple
coming on at twilight time:
You in blue-shadowed silk, yellow
hair tumbling like white-water rapids,
night so simple, this one perfect moment.

(An Ekphrastic Poem in Etheree Form)

After retiring from a 48-year career in the printing industry in 2013, Michael Escoubas began writing poetry for publication. His study of and interest in poetry goes back some 30 years. During this time he studied classical and modern poets learning from their works and from critics who comment about them. Michael writes poetry in part because his mother once said, “You have a gift for words; you should do something with that gift.”

Special Feature Collaborative Poem--By Laura M. Kaminski—United States and Saddiq M. Dzukogi--Nigeria

Bookmarked

By Laura M. Kaminski and Saddiq M. Dzukogi

a folded sheet of paper

marks the halfway place,

separation between pages
I have read and those

I haven't

twelve chapters yearning to open

as a flower finding the sun
and I am 

Persephone, I have eaten

six seeds of the pomegranate

and have been changed

by this ingestion

I won't sell any seed

for a meager sum

even if I stop reading now

and go out into the daytime

garden, inhale the sweet

scent of jasmine, I know

I am destined

to return to the underworld

with an appetite as a beast,

ravenous for further

words, reunite with my shadow self,

the other me

who never left my book 

who wasn't stripped

of conscience like a desert palm
its fronds

Coat of White--By Phyllis Babcock--Canada

Coat of White

Winter put on his coat of white
Whispered to the wind
Come and dance with me
We will whirl and twirl
Across the country floor
Wind sighs in sweet refrain
Wraps her coat tight
Answered winter in delight
Come we curtsy and bow
Dance merrily on new found snow.

Phyllis Babcock was born in Saskatchewan, Canada in 1951 and currently resides in Regina with her husband. She has been blessed with two wonderful sons and daughter-in-laws. She has two grandsons and two granddaughters. She started writing poetry in 2004 and joined Poetry Soup site in 2006. She has been published in two anthologies, On Butterfly Wings and Snippets. Her work has also appeared on Poetry.com and in a local seniors’ newspaper. She feels writing has been a wonderful journey, meeting many new poets and writers along the way.

send a poem--By jani johe webster--United States

send a poem

send a poem

thru the snowflakes

    of dawn

and the sun of twilight

listen to the seagull

talk with the night

draw a golden circle

around each heartbeat

while you watch

    the doves of peace

        carrying blue lights

            of shimmering hope

a beacon of light

for the soul

of the earth

Thoughts from Nila Webster--My beloved mother, jani johe webster, wrote this poem many years ago, without fully knowing the incredible manifestation of Karen O'Leary's online journal Whispers.  This poem reflects the beauty of Whispers:  that poets around the world can send their poems "thru snowflakes of dawn", sacred messages of lyrical beauty, and treasures that, in dark moment, illuminate the way.

Lotuses Bloom--By Dr. Madan G. Gandhi--India

Lotuses Bloom

In heart there is a space
where total silence prevails
No ripples, no ebb and rise of waves
utterly serene, tranquil is the lake

There white and purple lotuses bloom
symphony of silence lights the gloom
as it envelops when the night descends
before dawning of a million springs

That’s where no upsurge of thoughts remain
no trace of the opposites, like joy and pain
There the self sits on the lotus throne
closing doors of senses from toe to crown

There’s the marriage of knowledge and bliss
self-experiencing the light-trail of awareness
blossoming to fullness of enlightenment
suffused by seamless serenity of contentment

Born in 1940, in Lahore, Yayati Madan G. Gandhi has been associated with a number of universities as professor and administrator: which include Visiting Professor, Delhi University and Lala Lajpat Rai Chair Professor, Punjab University, Chandigarh. He has edited collected works of Lala Lajpat Rai and several poetry anthologies.

More, Please--By Laura M. Kaminski--United States

More, Please

poem with a line from “Mornings in Cudahy, California” in Ruben Quesada’s

book Next Extinct Mammal, Greenhouse Review Press, 2011

Cedar roars in the belly of the woodstove
holding a spitting argument with gusts
of wind that echo, endless, up and down
the metal pipe.

In truth, the house is warm enough, but
I continue to add more fuel to the fire,
perch hunched over on the hearthstone
with my book, gargoyle bundled in a poncho
craving radiant heat –

I need to find some way to pour more
warmth into the heart of me, drink a soul-full
of hot cocoa. I shiver again, turn back
a page and read:

“…light melted over the barrio
of burnt adobe where every Maria and Jesus ran
loose dodging cool sprays from serpent hoses
on hot Sunday afternoons…”

Ahh…yes. Just right. Keep pouring…

Laura M. Kaminski grew up in northern Nigeria, went to school in New Orleans, and currently lives in rural Missouri. She is an Associate Editor at Right Hand Pointing, and writes poetry in both English and Hausa.  Her most recent poetry collection is Dance Here (Origami Books, an imprint of Parrésia Publishers Ltd in Lagos, Nigeria). More about her poetry can be found at arkofidentity.wordpress.com

Not For Losers--By Joyce I. Johnson--United States

Not For Losers

I've joined the quite exclusive club,
"The Over Ninety Bunch"
If duty calls, we answer with,
"Denied, we're out for lunch."

We've worked hard and we've paid our dues,
In summer, spring and fall,
And since we live on borrowed time,
It is precious after all.

The winter of our lives is ours
To do with as we please.
We've taught you well, now do your job,
So we can take our ease.

If you should see some older gals
With  glasses of wine or punch,
Who look like they are having fun,
We're the "Over Ninety Bunch."

Joyce I. Johnson lives in the beautiful Skagit Valley of Washington State. She owns a small farm and rents her land to a bulb grower. She is surrounded by beauty in the spring from the tulips and daffodils that inspire much of her poetry. Joyce celebrated her 96th birthday in July of 2014.

A Gift from God - A Sonnet--By Elaine George--Canada

A Gift from God - A Sonnet

I am a wish, a prayer from mortal’s lips

That reached heaven and touched God’s fingertips

And returned to earth wrapped in flesh and blood

A gift from God’s unconditional love

So love and cherish me as God does you

And guide and teach me well in all I do

And through the years a garden we will grow

Filled with the fragrant beauty of the rose

And on the day I reach maturity

And feel the need like leaves to leave the tree

To show the world the colors that are me

Rejoice in all the beauty that you see

For I am your child the gift that God gave

No More than a wish and a prayer -  away.

Born in New Brunswick, Elaine George spent the early years of her life living in Lorneville (a small fishing village along the Bay of Funday) still inhabited by many of her family members.  Much of her writing is inspired by the memories of that place and those wonderful people.  She has published two volumes of poetry and is currently writing a novel entitled Out of the Darkness.  Many of her poems and short stories have appeared in magazines in both Canada and the United States. Currently she lives with her husband in Wainfleet, Ontario.

Montana Skies--By Connie Marcum Wong--United States

Montana Skies

Bison blaze through winter white
In stark contrast with the snow.
Montana skies wrap them in the
Frigid air as nostrils release their
Warm breath while they search
For grasses beneath the snow.
Low fog filters through the pines
As a welcome warming sun rises.
An eagle watches with vested vision.

Connie Marcum Wong has been the Web Mistress of a private poetry forum Poetry for Thought since October 1999. Her poetry has been in many publications, anthologies, magazines, and e-zines over the years. She published her first poetry chapbook, Island Creations in 2005. In 2007, Heart Blossoms was published. In January 2010, an anthology, A Poetry Bridge to All Nations, was published by Lulu Enterprises, Inc. Connie created the 'Constanza' poetry form in 2007 and Con-Verse form in 2010. She has resided with her husband in Hawaii since 1980.

Songs of Night--By John W. (Bill) Williams--United States

Songs of Night

Restless voice

on summer nights

start with a whisper

and gradually spill over

into the darkness.

I am captivated

by each distinct melody,

the rich resonance

of their voices

lift my spirit

higher and higher

until at last

I am floating

with each sound,

drifting closer

to where they’ve gathered

to render

their compelling melodies.

John W. (Bill) Williams is a retired language arts and children’s literature educator.  He lives in Martin, GA, where he stays busy with his art and poetry.  He has been published in a variety of venues.

One Candle--By Annie Jenkin--England

One Candle

One candle travels around the world
 and another marks the passage of time,
One candle in a light house saves lives
 in days past defended a castle,
One candle ignites beacons of hope
 fervently offered up in prayer,
One candle shines light on a new path
 a warm glow appears at a window,
One candle welcomes you safely home.

Annie Jenkin lives in Plymouth, England. Having not written poetry for many years, Annie has returned to poetry writing with enthusiasm. Her writing explores several subject areas that are insightful, humorous but can also be sensitive.

Long-Retired, ME and the Mirror--By Eleanor Michael--United States

Long-Retired

ME and the Mirror

The other day I woke

feeling so good.

I thought, “Today’s

the day I could

go look for work.”

Then, I got out of bed

tottered to the bathroom,

stepped on the scale,

and washed my hands.

I saw my reflection

in the cabinet glass.

That did it! Who,

in their right mind,

would hire the ME

in the mirror?

Maybe, with make-up,

a new hairdo . . .

lose a few pounds . . .

Eleanor Michael has published poetry and short stories in a variety of venues.

Special Feature Collaborative Poem--By Sheikha A.—Pakistan/United Arab Emirates and Suvojit Banerjee—India/United States

Komorebi

By Sheikha A. and Suvojit Banerjee

Voices of the night linger

as dawn kisses the night goodbye

I saw the light burst out 

of a white stag, standing like time

the night jar disappeared into shades

of a faded existence

the ancient rivers of folk moving 

on a dying star, breaking

to recollect old bones of the day

passed through trembling winds

to bring us news of souls in a pool

of time, where the stag kissed

the sand through its wings spanned

over the air like a commandment

like sunlight passing through leaves

of jungle with no shape

the lonely lighthouse’s hands raised

to the wind, the stag pierced

the relics of the guiding star – komorebi,

our reflections never whole.

A Quick Squiggle--By George L. Ellison--England

A Quick Squiggle

(Q Poem)

On a quality quiet stroll along the quayside

I quickly discover quite a few

Quintessential reasons for using my quill

Like quicksilver I quench my thirst for writing

Quips and Quotations as I question all I see

George L. Ellison is a writer of poetry and short stories. He has published three books called Poetic Reminiscences, Weaving Words and Reflections. George lives with his wife and dogs in Chester-Le-Street, County Durham in England. He is a member of The Writers and Poetry Alliance and owner of Poetry and short story ink.  George has a Facebook Author page and is currently working on various projects as well as learning to play the saxophone at the Sage Gateshead!

Leftovers--By Robert P. Hansen--United States

Leftovers

rag doll

    —mauled—

         squeaky chew toy

      puppy love

yips

      yaps

            growls

                      barks

       wagging tail

sloppy tongue

Robert P. Hansen teaches philosophy courses at a community college. In addition to poetry, he also writes genre fiction. His recent eBook publications include a free Story Sampler (14 stories from his collections), The Golden Key (Book 3 of his Angus the Mage fantasy series), and 2014: A Year of Poetry. For more information on his writing and where to find what he has published, visit his blog at: http://rphansenauthorpoet.wordpress.com/.