The Crescent Moon in the Night Sky
Poetry by Pranav Rustagi
Just like every Saturday night
I was again writing about him
Adding one more chapter to
how he introduced the moon to me
I have always sought for darkness
Maybe that is reason why
"No moons" used to be my favourite
Until when he introduced the moon to me
I was thinking all this
Lost, staring at the most beautiful thing
Crescent moon it was,
And I remembered when I used to ask him
Why he chose me?
And just like always, he would say
"You're the crescent moon in my night sky"
I would always end up thinking
What a weird amour I had got
And he would chuckle and say
"One day you will understand"
I was so lost in my darkness
That I never understood what he meant
But tonight I did
In the night sky with billions of stars
I always thought that I was incomplete
Full of flaws and imperfections
But he saw right through my walls
Though it seems incomplete
But it's the same moon
Which would soon glow on the full moon
I was perfect, just never realised
With tears in my eyes tonight
I finally understood what he meant
When he caressed my forehead
When it hit the dusk...
Behind the poem Summer Haze
Poem and the article by Deanna M Ramirez
Fueled largely by free lunches delivered to our neighborhood. I had no clue as a child it was charity. I relished the convenience of not having to leave the parking lot where I played. And the free lunches always had chocolate milk!
My mother put change in a small plastic baggie, if we had one. She’d drop the bag out the window after I yelled up to her asking for a slushie, “Ma, ma! The slush truck is here! Can I get one?”
If we didn’t have a baggie, she’d just toss change out the window! Richie’s truck didn’t waste time, and I rarely had time to run up two long flights of stairs to get the money.
The coins bounced off the concrete scattering, and I’d chase them down. I remember the immense relieve when my hands held my watermelon slushie. It tasted amazing in the blazing summer heat.
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A poem by Veena Ramaswamy
Awe struck by the breathtaking magical scenery that lay before me,
Boarded the double decker ferry that floated along the shiny clear waves of the blue sea.
Clothed myself with a red rain poncho as I scurried through the queue,
To experience the beauty of the natural wonder that painted an iconic view.
My body rocked as the boat swayed to the crashing waves of the river,
The freezing water trickled on my face, sending me a little shiver.
The foggy mist clouded the entire vast area and suddenly wrapped around my eyes,
Became frightened of the loud thundering sound, which actually unraveled an astonishing surprise.
The incredible divine beauty of the Niagara Falls ascended while the sparkling mist faded away,
My eyes beamed with joy at the sight of the historic amazement which lay at the heart of Canada and USA.
The ferry smoothly slithered through the rapid current of the aquarium-blue whitewater, beneath the rainbow bridge.
As the raging torrent of 80,000 gallons of water forcefully tumbled down the basalt mountain ridge.
The two deafening waterfalls plummeted downward, pounding the edge of the metamorphic rock formation,
Sprays of liquid silver water splashed into the depths of the paradisiacal pool, transforming into a foam of lather with shiny crystallization.
It was a moment of bliss and serenity as the ferry cruised along the varnish clear pool,
Which looked like a curtain draped with distinct threads of silky blue satin and shined brightly like an expensive glass jewel.
As the excursion came to an end and the steamboat docked along the shore,
Stood there, speechless at the sight of the mystical beauty which I’ve never seen in my life before.
Infatuated by the mesmerizing God given wonder, my eyes suddenly dazzled red, orange, green, and blue.
The vivid colors of the translucent rainbow arched gracefully through the dreary sky,
bleeding a palette of prismatic shades which saturated the horizon with a crimson hue.
The humming of the ferry’s horn gradually subsided, realizing that I just couldn’t take my eyes off of the heavenly falls that was sparkling at a distance.
As I took my last step to board off the ferry, I leaned over my shoulder one last time to witness the eternal existence.
The beauty of the Niagara Falls etched into my soul as the magic followed me all the way home. As months passed by, the phenomenal journey was just unforgettable, leaving traces of memories which looked exquisite even in shades of monochrome.
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A poem by Mayank Saxena
Words have an amazing character
You mould it and they change their texture
They motivate you
They disintegrate you
They reflect your identity and nature
They can shape your future
They can cut like a sword
They can be lighter than a bird
World is nothing without words
We, poets are nothing without these words.
Wild, a poem by Zahra Zuhair
You will fail
to find that passion
you sparked in me
when you lie with her,
for she is the magnificent trees,
but never a lush forest,
and she is the ocean
but never the surfer's waves,
and she is the shoreline
but never the dotted seabed,
and she is the stars that light up for you,
but never the sky that changes for you.
And you, who wouldn't dare
preserve and explore a forest,
or ride the mighty waters,
or drown inside the quicksand that I was,
or push a little harder to reach the sky-
I was too great in my being for you.
It was not me that could not hold on to you,
but it was you that could not hold on at all.
By Elizabeth Barrera
Closer he comes to the flower
each time they meet.
He would caress her beautiful petals
with his dignitary love.
But the flower withered so suddenly
that she forgot to tell the butterfly
how beautiful his wings are,
how colorful her world is with him.
Each time a bud glows,
the butterfly's eyes would twinkle
but the day becomes gloomy
upon the hurtful realization.
Though he still went on with his life,
he could never really find
someone as precious as the flower,
someone who holds the dead butterfly's heart.
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A short story by Leena Auckel
She waited. Nothing.
“It’s fine!” he said. “it’s just some paint,why are you getting so worked up?”
Even if you soaked up all the mess that doesn’t make you less valuable, Cassandra. What you have endured does not put you to a disadvantage instead it has built you and armoured you with shields that will help you face harder days with ease.”
Remains of the Day
By Karen Blunt
In the rubble of my memories...
As I searched thru the dust filled corners of my mind
I found a remnant of you...
What was left of our torrid love affair.
How our passion burned so hot...
Now the remains are only ashes
And each day that passes...
I leave the remains of us farther behind.
By Karen Blunt
I wish to dwell forever in the pantheon of your love.
To bask in the glorious feel of your touch.
To drink in the sweetness of your kiss...
Forever lost in this blissful affair.
About the Poet
(This post contains affiliate links. See my disclosure about affiliate links here.)
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 ©