Eve Poetry

Outshine the Night by Deevesh Ramphul

Outshine the Night

Street light, warring against the darkness of the night, don’t you get tired watching it all get left behind? You watch the cars pass by, though some might stop by temporarily, you’ve witnessed them all leaving.

How can you stand tall after all that you’ve been bearing? The downpours and the storms might have dimmed your light, then how did you not forget your purpose in life?

Fighting against the coldness of starless nights, you have grown dark too, why are you no longer true? Street light, now gone berserk, switching off from time to time, letting the bad overshadow the good, letting what you were fighting against get over you.

It all started making sense again, you turn into your nightmares when you have lived them, and just as such the petals mourn into the soil, and the heart into a rusted coil, swinging between taking the jump or letting go. Is it worth it all, the risks of being caged or a follower of a ruthless leader?

Sights of how deceiving the landscape can steal the traveler’s passion of seeking more, taking the faith away from the one she inspired. Roaming around, the crashing of the spheres surfaced a looming feeling, sat by the edge I watched my world crumbling, down went my castle floating in that azure sky, and so my loyalty to a double-edged lover.

The love water was falling changed to a dagger and here it splattered into bits which could never be mended back again, some lost within the eyes of the tormentor.

Seeker of feelings soon sought vague highs, the masterpieces carved within himself being a dreary reminder, gone they were, turned to nostalgia of a time where truth reigned and rainbows shone.

Love, like art, must be free, but here I am paying the debts of the ones who couldn’t keep it real.

This site contains affiliate links to products. We may receive a commission for purchases made through these links. For more information, see my disclosures here.

Subzero

Poetry by Sanjana Krishnan

December storms raging my bones
Glaciers packed into my marrowed spaces
Ankles buckling like they’re standing beneath the
Weight of snow on pine trees
This frosty earth with its dipping moon
Blanketed under sculptures of glass and ice
Like my frozen veins
Waiting to be thawed out of these arctic days
Now with everything at a standstill
I exhale, weaving crystals from my breath
Forlorn, I seek warmer climates
To break free of this eternal doom
But the swallows, they only surface
When spring is in bloom
This chilly night I lie in wait so I can soar
So I can scrape the tallest pines
So I can free its branches of this binding cold
Just like I can free my veins
Of these blade-like oars

Bounty

Poetry by Sanjana Krishnan

You touch me like these silver shadows
bouncing off moonbeams
contact high
just like the Polaroid I kept
tucked away in the back pocket
of my blue jeans
knowing you’ll be safest
here between the seams
this isn’t a puppy sort of love
for you turn my world
lighting up the skies within me

This site contains affiliate links to products. We may receive a commission for purchases made through these links. For more information, see my disclosures here.

Reality Check by Marie Anaïs Tessa L’Etang

I still remember as if it was yesterday
I was playing on the streets along with all the children in the neighbourhood
Little ones, the teens and even some of the adults
Street football was the one everyone loved
It was like a generation match, youngsters versus the adults
Everyone would be present for the street games

Reality check, 21st century…
Streets are for cars only
Games are only virtual
Chatting means social media
Acceptance means be someone else on the internet
Parents no longer know their kids, they only know work
Kids feel adopted by their babysitters

Video games, video calls, video conferences
Our lives resume to technology
Robots created to replace humans
Yet humans are turning to robots bending to each new ‘update’

This post contains affiliate links. An affiliate link means I may earn advertising/referral fees if you make a purchase through my link, with no extra cost to you. It helps to keep this little magazine afloat. Thanks for your support. Read full disclosure here.

Lost Love by Natalia Imran

Even if we break apart
Remember, you’ll always be in my heart

Even if you call me a loser
Remember my love, I lost to you

Even if you say I’m broken
Remember, I broke my wall for you

Even if you say I’m the acid to your rain,
Remember, no love from you I gained

Even if you say I’m ugly,
Remember, once upon a time, this face, you loved

Even if you call me an old soul
Remember, old souls loved the most

Even if you said it hasn’t been your day, your week or your year
Remember, I was there for you

Even if you couldn’t see what I saw
Remember, I was your mirror and made you see what I saw

This post contains affiliate links. An affiliate link means I may earn advertising/referral fees if you make a purchase through my link, with no extra cost to you. It helps to keep this little magazine afloat. Thanks for your support. Read full disclosure here.

One Day, Some Day by Tiffany Chaney

Have you looked at the star chart?
It’s the night we would have shared tomorrow in Buffalo.
I found the coffee shop for our first meet
after you won the dare — it had a fire neither of us experienced —

some day, not one day, I said.

But now I ache to feel your lips, finally, pressed to my ear.
Have you looked at the star chart?
To find you in the dark, just by the sound of you
but also by the feel of you, a chuisle,

one day, not some day, you said

Pulse to pulse, but I don’t know if I can reclaim my heart now.
I asked you to keep the compass safe for me, 700 miles away.
Have you looked at the star chart?
Some day, the beats grew distant and measured,

one day, not some day, you said.

I speak to and between the empty spaces of those beats.
I look at the space where I used to wear my heart on my sleeve.
I stare up at the sky, a chuisle, and know the sky is still the same.

But maybe there’s no difference between one and some.

Have you looked at the star chart?

As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases at no extra cost to you.

This post contains affiliate links. An affiliate link means I may earn advertising/referral fees if you make a purchase through my link, with no extra cost to you. It helps to keep this little magazine afloat. Thanks for your support. Read full disclosure here.

Reminiscence by Emma Lambert

Reminiscence

Sometimes the smell
of gingersnap cookies
resonates in the air.

The chaotic Sunday
nights after we got home
from an evening at the park
one cousin running around
pulling out board games from the
closet, while another was slipping their
tiny feet into grandma’s old heels
and stomping around the kitchen tiles.

Christmas Day was in that small
house on a hill every year,
a house built on the foundation of love.
A house that had been called
home for more years than
you could count on two hands.

It was a house where we all felt safe,
even when the sun set and
darkness swallowed the sky.

The night was filled with old
cartoons on VHS and three trips
to the kitchen in the same hour
to grab another snack from
the cluttered kitchen table.

When it was time to sleep,
two or three children
would curl up underneath
the layers of quilts and sheets.

We would argue over who got
the spot next to grandma that night,
or when it was peaceful,
we would stare at the ceiling and
say whatever was on our minds.

Then, grandma would switch off
the lamp on her dresser,
gently pull back the sheets,
and lay down next to us.

She would pray,
asking God to keep us safe
and sound and simply thanking him
for her family, showing her gratitude.

As our eyes would start to flutter
shut and sleepiness overcame us,
she would turn to face the wall,
gently trace circles on my little arm,
and smile.

Goodnight, she would say to us.
I love you.

This post contains affiliate links. An affiliate link means I may earn advertising/referral fees if you make a purchase through my link, with no extra cost to you. It helps to keep this little magazine afloat. Thanks for your support. Read full disclosure here.

Third Person Flight by Teodor Nihtianov

Third Person Flight

I was born in the desert
South of the moon
My body stays forever
But my mind will travel soon
To green pines and rolling fields
Streams of water untouched

I’ll miss the tumbleweeds
And Joshua trees
But it’s a relief
To bury these bones in the sand

This post contains affiliate links. An affiliate link means I may earn advertising/referral fees if you make a purchase through my link, with no extra cost to you. It helps to keep this little magazine afloat. Thanks for your support. Read full disclosure here. 

Cold Love by Emalee Goode

Cold Love

She traced a heart
on the fogged glass
in the city
that never sleeps
for the person
across her window,
who needed to know
they were loved
in the coldest times.

This site contains affiliate links to products. We may receive a commission for purchases made through these links. For more information, see my disclosures here.

Blurb Customizable Magazine – Self-Published Magazines with Templates – $4.59
from: Blurb

Creative Respire by Denise Rusley

Creative Respire

Do you look at all the patterns
The taut lines, playful swirls and dots
And the ways that they push and pull
Curve loud, singing colors and knots
The beats of hearts and sighs of souls
All jumbled together laughing
Tears leaking, dripping and salty
Mix of caramels chocolate mashing
Into mountains of happiness
Gusting into the winds of change
Your thinking loud and not mundane
Lights of fancy with smells assuage
A peace with sun inside your heart
Wishes to be found and dance beats
Rhythmically lilting a song
Escapes from lungs breathing so deep

This site contains affiliate links to products. We may receive a commission for purchases made through these links. For more information, see my disclosures here.

Will you? by Rhythm

Will you remember me?
When the ones you thought you knew
Leave you high and dry.
When your shadows
No longer stay by your side…

Will you miss me?
On the difficult days and lonely nights
When the fire stops burning so bright
When things just don’t feel so right…

Will you reach for me?
When your soul bleeds
From the twisted knives and sweet lies,
When you find out,
that the fox had a sweet disguise.
When your heart feels heavy,
And you realise, that I was a diamond
But you lost me for a few pennies

This site contains affiliate links to products. We may receive a commission for purchases made through these links. For more information, see my disclosures here.