Sharks

Sharks by AGNA

Deep down the colourless liquid lies aquatic life,
battles for survival and the crown of war
Like those inhabitants of terrain,
there too lies big perfect cartilaginous skeleton having swords in mouth to crush everyone…. sharks
They too feast on the small ones.

In odourless liquid everything is the color of night
when these creatures move with thrilling silence,
there are drops of lifelessness on aquatics
unmoved small skeletons lying peacefully,
pumping through the four ends of this net,
Flaked black almonds tell the history of red soil’s heritage,
Reminding it’s better to be lying…. better to be dead.

Traits finely similar to varmints of land,
having arable shape with devil’s mind where blood becomes the harbour of life,
And riot of minds is the definition of grassland life;
Horizons coincide having sharks of their own,
rhythm of slaughtering boats and cars lulled small ones to sleep forever,
Massacre spared few that always sat on the shark’s tail and worshipped them with the drool of their mouth,
and sharks became the ruler of upcoming Dynasty.

The Smile by AGNA

I shivered along my skirted wobbly legs,
head thrown back, crinkles in secret,
breathed in puzzle with hands on my leafy neck,
My summer heart blazed along frosty winter castle,
soaked lines of broken lips whispering
‘hey stranger’ to the
biting pebbles settled against my Asian skin
while trying to
smile
smile
and smile
In the midst of a full known crowd of strangers, welcoming waiting for an unknown old friend.

<strong>AGNA</strong>
AGNA

AGNA is just another human walking on the face of Earth who’s always looking for some volunteering opportunities and adventures.


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Soft Cut

Soft Cut by De-sun

You left, your smile,
Still mistreats my thoughts.
Burning in my head,
Like a violent flame.

I still dream of you,
Write sad love poems,
On my pillows.
During my darkest days,
I watched our favorite movie,
Until it ended.

Everyday,
I want to see that soft cut,
On my smooth face.
You left behind that connection,
My soul to yours.

You Are Mine by De-sun

From the day of our independence
In 1847,
My heart has been longing for you,
Like the flowing cavalla.

At the twinkle of the light,
Which rises from the south of Monrovia,
My heart thirsts for you.

You’re beautiful, like the Sapo National park.
How I long for more of your sweetness,
That rises beyond the surface of Mountain Wologisi.

Oh! Beauty of the Lorma tribe,
You are my oxygen.
The air my lungs inhales
Exhale on the bedrocks of Cape Mount.

Where your love smokes my heart like dried fish,
Our village parent’s prepared for evening dinner.
Come let’s build the palace of love.

In my veins,
In the veins of the body of a Grebo boy.

We’ll sign a promise on the hills of Ducor,
Where the breeze from the Atlantic clamps on my soul.
To press the vow of agreement
that “You are mine.”

<strong>Sunny Eddie Crawford</strong>
Sunny Eddie Crawford

Sunny Eddie Crawford writes from Monrovia, Liberia. His works have been forthcoming in: Ducor Review, Love from home (Chapbook published by the Liberian Poet Society), Ngagi Review, Spillwords, Orange blog Africa, and the We Write Liberia website.

Sunny writes under the pen name: De-sun

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Distorted Glass

Silhouette of hand against distorted glass with geometric shapes. black and white color.

Distorted Glass by Serena Morrigan

Today I am full of love for my friends
Who think better of me than I do
My mind is a vicious place, you don’t
Want to look outside these eyes
The mirror is distorted glass
Showing the demons inside my skull
Exactly what they want to see
Am I worthy to be called a friend
When I feel like I’m constantly on fire?
Why can’t I be kind for once
To the person carrying these bones?
I hear them whispering again…
You don’t deserve it
No, you don’t deserve it

Smoke of Remorse by Serena Morrigan

Bewildered, I watch the heavy smoke rise
As the midnight sun dissolves into the black
Flickering sparks sprinkle the night sky
It would have been a beautiful sight to see
If only it weren’t for these demons inside
Bubbling to the surface merely to destroy
Again, I’m left with the ashes of my attempts
At something resembling friendship

<strong>Serena Morrigan</strong>
Serena Morrigan

Serena started writing poetry in high school as a means to deal with bullying. She only recently started writing again after a traumatic experience. By openly talking about mental health issues, she hopes to end the stigma and help people feel less alone with their struggles.

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Melody of Rain

Melody of Rain by Cheryll Patras

The melody of rain, today, sings a song to my old soul
I listen to my heart dancing to it all cheerfully
This takes me to a rainforest I’ve never seen before
I walk past the wet trees of fancies
Dripping cold raindrops on my morning face
Nostalgia? —- that’s yet to be known
Maybe it doesn’t exist in my memories
Maybe —– this is nothing but my free spirit
Travels along with the euphony of this day’s rain
The cool breeze caresses my skin
The damp scent arouses my senses
The light and shadows in the woods are bewitching
My old soul flies my young heart to nature’s core
I owe my fascinating journey to the melody of rain today.

Utopia by Cheryll Patras

It is startling to watch the daybreak;
how the sol shows up with its full
gleaming rays every day —
the way the sun smiles upon each
rooftop without assessing nuances.

It would be a generational utopia to
wish this glorious altruism and
munificence for my generation
to exhibit towards its fellows
and teach its heirs the same.

<strong>Cheryll Patras</strong>
Cheryll Patras

Cheryll Patras is a Business student from Pakistan who’s currently working as a Nonprofit Manager at a US-based nonprofit. She’s a poet at heart, and her work revolves around a variety of topics.

Cheryll writes to uplift people and shares her opinions, emotions, personal experiences, and, sometimes, what she sees happening around her. Her long-term vision is to write to bring people closer to God. Cheryll plans to publish an uplifting collection of poetry that revolves around a unified subject. You can read more of her poems on Instagram @cheryll_patras.

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The Oak Tree

The Oak Tree by Louise Senderowich

The days are long,
but the years are short.
The worries lay heavy,
whilst the laughter is light.
The racing makes us faster,
not quicker in response to our needs.
The baskets are full
with empty promises,
The checklists point us inwards,
the self-berating is cyclical,
the raging is inevitable.
Such that we miss the sign posts
of beauty,
under the watchful eye of the oak tree,
standing steady,
waiting for you to blossom
and discover your way home.

<strong>Louise Senderowich</strong>
Louise Senderowich

Louise lives in Manchester, UK with her husband and 2 boys. She has been writing poetry since she was a child and loves reading modern literature and poetry.

She enjoys writing about motherhood, being a woman in the modern age and social injustice. She aspires to publish her own poetry anthology one day.

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Sojourner

Sojourner by Katerina Canyon

Truth is where I found you

In the cusp high over ultraviolet waves

Between your time as a slave and mine

Fighting off the results of bondage.

You were a woman who accepted no

Excuses for the lack of rights

For our mothers and daughters,

Demanded more for those who followed.

I am a woman who accepts that most

White men are fixed on one idea

As to how the world should be,

And it is on me to change their minds

Through words, or actions, but never

Through guns or swords, white bonnet

Wrapped on my head as I push

Away racial insults and profanity.

You never forgot to say who a woman

Could be, what a Black woman could do

When we eschewed weakness and misogyny.

No one helped you. You just carved the trail.

No one helps me either. That’s what I learned

It means to be a Black woman.

To be strong, to plough, to plant, to raise barns.

That’s what you did. I do that metaphorically.

Now, I raise children, plough through journals

With my pen. I always remember to never

Pin my tongue for fear of other’s thoughts

This is the way you walked.

I try to get my half measure full,

But I think it is a little less

Difficult for me as it was

For you. Thank you for the

Quarter you earned.

It took us a long way, but

Today, the world is still

Turned upside down

And we are working

Hand by hand to

Flip it

Right side up

Sojourner is an excerpt from Katerina Canyon’s latest poetry collection, Surviving Home. ‘Surviving Home’ will be released in December 2021, published by Kelsay Books. Surviving Home is a reflection on African American heritage and up-bringing, racism, and abuse.

<strong>Katerina Canyon</strong>
Katerina Canyon

Katerina Canyon is an Award Winning Poet, Best Selling Author, civil rights activist, and essayist. She will be releasing her new poetry book ‘Surviving Home’ in December 2021, published by Kelsay Books.

Surviving Home is a reflection on African American heritage and up-bringing, racism, and abuse. To learn more, go to https://www.poetickat.com/

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