A Birthday Gift

A Birthday Gift

By Joyasmita Ghosh

It is not the day that seems special,
But the people who make it so.
For it is just another day;
The same sun, the same sky
And the same universe that guides the pass.
But you speak of it as a day of remembrance
And insist it be celebrated.

But is a day worth celebrating Life?
And given you, given your love,
Celebration and gratitude are an enormity.
Life and Death are a game of scores;
Each second that brings us closer adds on to Life
And each moment that pulls us apart add on to Death.
You ask for my choice of gift,
But I already have you.
What could be more dear, than a heart which beats in a rhythm similar?
A soul that bows in prayer for Eternal togetherness,
And happiness that unleashes at the smile that brings the dawn to your day.

You urge, and I finally ask you for a gift
And you instinctively say yes.
Don’t, for this may hurt,
promising a thing prior knowing its price.
And I go on to tell you:
If ever a lonely soul you stumble upon,
A shoreless sailor, with all hope gone,
Promise me you’ll hold her hand
And be the loveliest roses on her barren land.
For a heart that is dilapidated,
Life happens not in worldly dreams,
But in a feather-touch that brings joy untold
And shuts out one’s inner screams.

Thus begins the celebration of the heartbeat, knowing that
Gone is the chasm of bitterness;
A life awaits anew.
I say this, for I have once been a shoreless sailor.
Give you such a life, know that our love lives then
As the Heavens doth forever.

Tis my birthday today, and you can’t refuse me.
All I ask for someone, just like me, is a reason to celebrate;
Not just a day, but a life;
A life that gives glories, a life that gives pain,
But above all, a life that brings you home
And prepares you to set sail again.
<strong>Joyasmita Ghosh</strong>
Joyasmita Ghosh

Joyasmita is from West Bengal, India.
Current job: pursuing Graduation course in Mathematics.

Hobbies: Sleeping, watching cartoons, sky-gazing and muser. A hardcore bibliophile and a music lover.
Instagram handle: read_andrelate
Focus for writing: A break from everything boring.

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Poetry by Noor

Poetry by Noor

My Muse, My Dearest Friend

By Noor Alzaghal

Fear, oh fear

Fear of the paper they say
Fear of a blank page

Yet fear is present
But the pale sheet isn't

Oh mother, I've got a fear so fatal
I cannot rid of it in the rivers
Oh father, I've got a fear so lethal
I cannot rid of it in the skies
Oh, this fear
It's got its claws clasped into my skin
Penetrated deep enough to reach my soul

My soul, my soul, my soul!
Tell me of your hiding place
Let me in on that secret space
Is it close by or up so high?
Tell me it's in space
Right outside the milky way
Tell me it's chill and nice
Tell me it rains and hails
Tell me joy is there
Tell me a lie

Cloistered soul,
I know you long to be set free
I know you wish to breathe
But breathing is condemned a sin
A sin so horrific
I cannot behold its magnitude

No eye must see you
Not even a tiny glimpse
For walls keep you safe
Even during a hurricane

Oh pure soul,
I'll feed you for sure
I'll read you letters
And I'll mold them into sounds
Smooth as a cat's fur

They'll serve as a catalyst
To your deepest desires
They'll beg you to yell
They'll beg you to scream
They'll beg for their freedom
With fisted balms and glaring eyes

Oh mother, let me spell it all
Oh father, let me cry it out
Oh, oh, oh, let me let me let me live

My fear's source is them
They cannot know the truth
They cannot know it all
They must not know me
Else I might become published
Exposed
In between their balms
Right beneath their fingertips
Naked
In front of their eyes
In front of their glaring soul
In front of them

My Muse, My dearest friend,
When I die,
Look through my notebooks
Set my words free
Give them wings
And let them fly
But for now
I'll howl into the night sky
Hoping Ginsberg replies

My Morning Play

By Noor Alzaghal

Subdued lighting melts through the curtains
Marking dawn
As the hushed blue fills up my four walls
Birds chirp their way up to the highest sky
Then,
Tranquil silence fills the empty pockets of the day
And soon my dear
Soon my Eyelids will become the main actors of this beautiful play.
A Romeo and a Juliette aching to reunite.
<strong>Noor Alzaghal</strong>
Noor Alzaghal

Noor Alzaghal is a 19-years-old Palestinian young woman with a burning passion for arts of all sorts. She is mainly a writer of poetry and fiction, but she also likes to dip her fingers into some photography and drama from time to time. Although unpublished, she is in the process of writing a novel as well as publishing a collection of poems hopefully soon. At the moment, she is a full time English Language and Literature student at An-Najah National University, and she is the founder of Englitopia; A Creative Writing and Drama Group , which aims to provide a safe space for students to find and express themselves through art.

You can find her on Facebook and Instagram where she shares most of her work. Instagram: @noor_poetry    
Facebook Page: @Noor.Flicker  ( https://fb.me/Noor.Flicker )

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Inner Child

By Jacklyn Ruth

It’s what we build thick walls to hide.
We wake up every day and put on our armor.
It’s the small child inside us.
It’s that feeling you get when the power goes out and all you have is a flashlight.
We are our own bodyguard, our own vault.
Trying to stash away what others could use against us.
But
That’s no way to live… Is it?
To live is to take chances, to make mistakes, to get a little messy.
And sometimes, let people get to that soft spot, that child.
Because not everyone is out there to hurt you.
Because some people are worth the risk.
<strong>Jacklyn Ruth</strong>
Jacklyn Ruth

My name is Jacklyn and I’m from Maryland. During the day, I work in Communications but every evening I take to the chair and write poetry, read a book, listen to relaxing Celtic music or play a video game. Writing has been a hobby of mine since childhood. But recently, my ultimate goal has been to have a book of my poems published. I write hoping my words make my readers feel something and that they take something away from my poetry.
Social Media: @jacklynmae.poetry

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Broken Pieces

By Natalia Imran

You're just a little broken
But darling, aren't we all?
You might be just so tired
But darling, aren't we all?

Tired of living the life
Of some human you're not
Thinking of what might come
The second this all stops

You're just a little broken
But darling, aren't we all?
You might just be so tired
But darling, aren't we all?

Worried of what people may think
When they find out the things
That you hide away every night
Under your bed, in that small box

You're just a little broken
But darling, aren't we all?
You might be just so tired
But darling, aren't we all?

Scared of the backstabs
That will come with the truth
Of your life
Which concerns no one but you

You're just a little broken
But darling, aren't we all?
You might be just so tired
But darling, aren't we all?

This part that's broken of you
This part is what shines the most
This part that's broken of you
That's how the light gets in

You're just a little broken
But darling, aren't we all?
You might be just so tired
But darling, aren't we all?
<strong>Natalia Imran</strong>
Natalia Imran

I am Natalia Imran from Pakistan. My hobbies include writing poetry and articles. I also like to paint and draw sometimes or make dies. I am a student.

The focus of my writing is to deliver positivity, hope and clarity through my poetry. It is not just a hobby; it’s a passion. I take my writing seriously and wish to have a book published one day. 

Instagram account: @absolute_felicity
Twitter account: @Natalia_Imran

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Smile by Lamya

Smile by Lamya

Smile, a poem by Lamya Rassiwala

When the glowing ambers of the day melt into darkness,
And the quietness of the eve casts a spell on my heart.

When your presence is all that I need, but your absence is all that I have.

I look up to the sky and smile and you always smile back.

When I collapse under the weight of the day,
And my grief threatens to overshadow my spirit.

When loneliness embraces me the way you used to,
And nothing else matters accept a kind word from you.

I look up to the sky and smile and you always smile back.

My surprised eyes cry in the middle of the day.
Unaware that my heart has been hurting all day.

When a shadow falls on your picture on the wall,
And darkens the tattered corners of my soul.

I look up to the sky and smile and you always smile back.

When I get tired of pretending
That all is fine.
And get exhausted from fighting the pain inside.
When the fragile pieces of my heart,
Desperately search for a new start.
I look up to the sky and smile and you always smile back.

Perhaps this is how we go on.
You and I from now on,
Day after day, night after night,
I keep looking up and you keep smiling back.

Cause nor the night or the sky
Nor destiny or time,
Can stop your smile from meeting mine.
<strong>Lamya "Minaaz" Rassiwala</strong>
Lamya “Minaaz” Rassiwala

Lamya Rassiwala is from Mumbai, in India. She has been a content writer and editor for the last 15 years, but her first love has always been poetry. She writes in English, Hindi and Urdu. Her other most cherished interest is her love for travel, and she wishes to start a dedicated blog for it.

Her favourite thing to do is perform at various spoken poetry events in the city. You can follow her on Instagram:  @lamyaminaaz where she posts poetry and interesting travel pictures.

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Forgiveness

Forgiveness takes time
Forgiveness is not black and white⠀
For layers peel back in their time ⠀
A placid beast of delicate skins⠀
expose deep lesions ⠀
Wounds cannot forgive ⠀
Their sting stirs memory⠀
Only time can heal⠀
Never to forget ⠀

By Deanna Ramirez ©

The Little Shed

The little shed is painted blue
with two old chairs for me and you
We sit and talk till stars shine high
Discuss wild dreams and sometimes cry
The shed is dark and meant for tools
but staged just right for dreaming fools
One day we'll laugh and reminisce
Having checked off goals from
our shed dream list

Dedicated to my honey. ❤
-Deanna Ramirez ©

Equalizer

The war in me for equality
For equal pay
Performing quality work 
in the same way
And never needing to be told
Cause I have integrity to uphold
I do what is right
Regardless of whose around
or nowhere in sight
In my skin, I have nothing to hide
Living above reproach
with family on my side
Not the one's that you may think
Most of them prefer 
that I fail and sink
Please don't waste pretense to worry about me
I know who to trust and hold close
Those who are fake
in due time, truth wins
and their lies are exposed

Deanna M Ramirez ©
Photo by Chelsi Peter on Pexels.com

The Price of Progress

Sun rises over the city
Tired people in robotic motion
to survive employment
Daily excavation of already 
empty voids
Filling fridges with grass fed meat
Paying mortgages that enslave them
Windows down feels like freedom
Absorbing luscious sky
Commuting in rows of all wheel drive
Ruminations of what they'll miss today
Bittersweet sunrise spectacle
Distant dreams fading
engulfed by reality 
of office murmurs and fluorescent light
To do it all again tomorrow

-Deanna Ramirez ©

Book Review – Where the Crawdads Sing

Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I just finished Where the Crawdads Sing last week, and I have been missing Kya ever since. Beautifully, succinctly penned. Delia Owens made me fall in love with the North Carolina marsh and wild life. I love how she weaved her scientific knowledge of environment, creatures-especially birds, and flora into the story in such a way that it breathed life into it. The marsh and wild life became part of Kya. It was her home, and truly took on it’s own role throughout the story. I grew fond of the other characters too- Jumpin had my heart. I wished for Kya to move in and live with Jumpin and Mabel, though I accept that Delia Owens could not write this compelling story with that outcome.

I highly recommend this book! I’d let you borrow mine, but I’ve already loaned my copy to my sister in law. GREAT read!
If you prefer audio – I can attest that the unabridged audio version is excellent!



View all my reviews