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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It Soon Reaches You

It Soon Reaches You

By Peter Anko

It's so close
Very close
Thus why does it seem so far?
As the feet approach
The view gets distant
Luring the heart to walk infinite miles
Grazing along the broad wide road
There lies the path to love
Entangled in a circle

What seemed nigh stands afar
Feet are swollen to the kneel
Strength fades away at each step
From the eyes
Flows two rivers down the cheek
Why should the pursuit seize?
When you've entertained love's wonder
How it mends broken hearts
Keeps hope alive
And stripes stench of sorrow

Its path remains circular
And it soon reaches you
When patience is not exasperating
Best you take a position within
Always alert
Love soon smiles at you
<strong>Peter Anko</strong>
Peter Anko

Hi, my name is Peter Anko, and I was born in the early nineties. I am a Nigerian and a teacher of English Language and literature.

I enjoy reading, writing, editing print and playing the keyboard. Writing is serious for me. I write poems, short stories and screenplays. Someday, I wish to publish my work.
Catch my thoughts on Instagram – Peteranko1

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Zero Gravity

Zero Gravity

By Jeff Thomas

I have been so sick in my life
That the sun and the moon
Ceased to exist
Time was nothing
The days and
The weeks and
The months
Melted together
While I floated
And the rest of the world
Kept moving forward
Around me
Kept moving forward
Passed me

I have been so sick in my life
That the good days
Terrified me
So comfortable in my poverty
That the warmth and the love
Of other people
Made me want to kill myself
In my self-imposed exile
I observed groups of strangers
Laughing and enjoying each other
And felt the sinking feeling
Of my own impotence
I have been so sick in my life
That I've lied through my teeth

Because to get help
And admit my sickness
Would mean
Hurting my family
I am not a man
I am not a human being
I am diminished
I am dehumanized
By the sickness inside of me
I wake up every morning
Into the stench
Of reaching for something
I'll never grasp again
To float is all that I have
<strong>Jeff Thomas</strong>
Jeff Thomas

I grew up in a small rural village in the thumb of Michigan. Currently, I reside in Washington, MI where I work with a sub-contractor to Home Depot as a fence installer.

My most prominent hobbies outside of reading and writing are all related to music. I like to sing and play guitar. The word is out, and I have become the karaoke entertainment for friends and family. I love listening to classic rock records. I love vinyl, and I’m totally addicted to Dylan and Zeppelin and any Jack White project. I’ve made it a point this year to pay attention and listen to new releases in pop and indie music, it has rejuvenated me spiritually/creatively to see so many young people making great stuff. In my spare time I also record stuff for Soundcloud and make cds for people close to me. After a few tumultuous years writing became kind of a therapeutic exercise, it wasn’t until recently when a friend read some of my stuff that I had lying around in notebooks I started considering being published.

My goal as a writer is to keep working on improving my work and get books published. I would love to be travelling and doing readings and meeting people. On tour in 2015 Jack White paused mid Madison Square Garden concert to say “I hope it feels good when you need it to.” And that’s how I feel about my writing. I don’t want people to feel as bad and be as lost as I’ve been in my life. If I can use my writing to help someone take the edge off for just a moment, that’s a beautiful thing. That’ll always be the goal. I’m taking the heaven in me and giving it away. People can follow me on Instagram @jeffthomasprose and they can check out my Spotify playlists and Soundcloud home recordings @jeffreydthomas

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Poetry by Niamh

Poetry by Niamh

As You are Flowering

by Niamh Murphy

You will 
meet people
in your life
who will stamp 
on your stem
when they notice
the blossoming 
rooted in your skin
their crooked roots
intertwined with decay, 
envy rotting their soil
they cannot bare
to see such beauty 
flourish from you

Others you meet
in this life
will water you 
even with their last
turquoise droplet
gently guiding 
as you fumble
finding your way
up and out 
from the earth
they will admire you 
boasting to others
of the purity
within your leaves

Evenings

By Niamh Murphy

That evening I looked up
losing my eyes in the thick black abyss 
that wrapped the sky so suffocatingly tight
that I wondered how the stars 
did not shatter 
under such pressure 

That evening I looked down
losing my eyes within the crumbling of 
my body as grief tied a knot around my limbs
I wondered how my bones 
did not shatter 
under such pressure

This evening I looked up 
placing my eyes on the azure gleam above 
that glazed so delicately
I understood grief had flown from me
and had strengthened my soul 
under such pressure 
<strong>Niamh Murphy</strong>
Niamh Murphy

I’m from Birmingham in the UK. I’m nineteen years old. I’m living in the beautiful city of Bath as a second year university student! I study creative writing, I absolutely love it. I get to explore so many writing forms, such as journalism, writing for children, life writing and even publishing. This year I’m studying spoken word within my course, which I can’t wait for because I’m performing my poetry. I’m a member of the spoken word society within my uni, which lets young aspiring writers like me share our work. I think this is so important within a university environment as poetry can be so emotionally based, I think it’s so important for uni students to listen to emotional content because they’re words that could help them with their own battles that maybe nobody knows about. Writing has always been a passion of mine, it’s my first love for sure. I’ve been writing poems and my own quotes in notebooks since I was around fourteen.

It’s almost been therapeutic for me, if I’ve had a challenge or a life experience I’ve found hard to digest, I naturally just start writing a poem about it. For example when I experienced grief, I wrote a collection of poems. This was a chronological set of poems, each exploring the individual stages someone encounters when grieving. Within this collection, I personified different elements of
nature as helping the speaker through each step. 

I love including imagery of the sun and moon in my poems, personifying them as beings that want to help and guide us; I also love personifying nature itself as a caring entity. The overall focus of my poetry is to help others with emotions and challenges in life and to embed a positive perception of tough situations so that the reader can be assured there’s light at the end of the tunnel. I love embedding modern issues for people of my age and all ages, such as feeling lost within yourself or worthless. I weave these issues into my writing in ways that provide my readers with fresh outlooks towards hard situations. hey 

I have a book independently published on amazon titled ‘Emotionfull’, that almost takes the form of life advice. I was seventeen at the time and feel my writing style has changed since then, but I’m still proud to have achieved this. I have my poetry Instagram titled @niamhmurphy_poetry and would love it if you give it a follow as it’s where I post my work regularly. I also provide my followers with a little daily thought segment! Thank you so much for your time. 

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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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I Am Yours

I am Yours

By Van Owen Sesaldo

A golden explosion
And I see your sun
Rising again.
I feel the warmth
Of your rays on my skin
As the breeze gently
Touches my face.
-
I feel the drops of life
As the sea sprays merrily.
Oh what joy your
Light brings to what had
Been my bane in eternity
-
The dreaded night was long
And all so even longer
I had started to close my eyes
To answer the calling oblivion
Yet hope was never gone.
-
Now look at me and see
I remained on your shore
I am here
-
No thunder roared hard
Enough to scare me.
No storms raptured
stronger to blow me off.
No waves were big enough
To wash me away.
-
In this life of misses
And different sets
Of chances,
I am yours
<strong>Van Owen Sesaldo</strong>
Van Owen Sesaldo

From: Cebu City, Philippines
Hobbies: Song writing, Poetry writing and reading, cooking – exotic dishes
Day job: I work as an IT Director for a university in our city and I also run 2 tech startup companies: a music curation service for businesses and the other a market place for the services sector. 
Focus of my writing: Relationships, missed chances, seeing opportunities, love letters, love stories

Getting serious on the writing. I have already published my first book in Amazon Kindle Store. It’s entitled “On Your Shore: Of loves and love letters”.
I post my pieces in Instagram as @owensesaldo and use #fatpoet and #fatpoetdaily as my main hashtags.
I am also on Facebook and member of the Cafe as Van Owen Sesaldo.  https://www.facebook.com/OwenSesaldo  

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Red Roses and Her

red roses and her

By Hareeba Tirmizi

Beware
it’s never all good,
read the board 
of the garden she trespassed into. 
The bunch of red roses,
that dragged her out of the colourless world,
stood with their stardom,
in the middle of the land.
Their alluring scent, 
their bright shades,
sure did appear
as a succour in her times of dullness. 

She caressed the petals, 
felt the softness between her fingers,
it had never been this merrier for her. 
The twinkle in her eyes, 
as that of the drops of dew,
resting on the edges of the flower.
She had finally found an ideal ally,
one that would fly her to the content,
she had longed for. 

However,
Courtesy her desires,
with an attempt to grasp them,
to have them alongside when she goes back,
to savour her remaining time,
to keep them to herself forever.
Brooks of the scarlet liquid,
oozed down her arms. 
She was smiling, 
She was hurting,
but she couldn’t let go.
She just couldn’t let go of the blooms,
those blooms she came to know as 
her friends. 
<strong>Hareeba Tirmizi </strong>
Hareeba Tirmizi

I’m Hareeba, a 20-year-old from the city of Rawalpindi, Pakistan. I’m a student currently pursuing Mechatronics Engineering from NUST. 
There’s a long list of my hobbies but writing, especially poetry, tops it. I’m not someone who has studied literature so I don’t really have any genres that I specifically follow or I do not require some incredible inspirations to come up with a write-up. I just write what I had experienced or what I’m feeling at that time of the day. It’s basically my world within words, and in the near future, I’d love to have a book of my own. 
Follow her on Instagram: @hbawrites_

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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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Fairy Tale Ending

Fairy tale ending

By Nikki Thomas

There’s a certain beauty emitting from your skin,
It entices knights to fall to their knees,
Tangling them in the fakeness of your love,
But they can’t see the venom you spit,
How it burns their skin and poisons their minds,
Enabling you to trap them in your web,
So you can feed off their wholesome hearts,

And while they remain trapped,
Awaiting your admiration,

You lust after the ogre and his dark magic spell,
Believing his every word of romance,
Blinded to his wrong doings by counterfeit promises,
He bruises your heart,
Breaks your soul,
Telling other Princesses that their his Queen,

All the while Knight’s beg for your hand,

It's a shame you will never see,

Where your fairy tale ending was meant to be.
<strong>Nikki Thomas</strong>
Nikki Thomas

Nikki is a photographer and writer from England. Most of her time is spent with looking after her one year old son, sewing or writing. However, in her spare time Nikki plays for her local ladies rugby team. 

Nikki started writing poetry a few years ago in order to channel her emotions and deal with mental health and trauma. After her boyfriend found her journal and encouraged her that her writing was in fact good, Nikki started up an Instagram to share some of her pieces. With a new found confidence in her ability to write from the encouragement of her boyfriend and friends on Instagram Nikki is now in the process of writing her first collection of poems that she plans to publish in January 2020. 

Instagram: @net.writes
Twitter: @netwrites 

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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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