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.
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.
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
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
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
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
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
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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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.
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_
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.
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
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.
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.
I feel the bright sunlight wash over me at night I feel the light of the memories push me through the day The tingling in my chest beats into a full blown ache, As looming over my thoughts a shadow encompasses my soul. Each day is faded into a color; An aroma, a scent A movement. A picture frozen into a favorite moment. A touch that sent warmth deep through me, A light angled in such a way that It haloed my hands as my fingertips feathered it. Each moment fades onto my soul, Engraving it. Each line speaks of different endings. Each dent screaming pain Each scrape tells a different story Of how we had all forsaken some at times When we walked and laughed and lain. Life's delight is to live it all Yet in many a moment we lived our past Clutching at the threads long undone And yearning for a touch gone cold We can say in the end as we die That we lived life as it is In the moment without completion Frozen midway in laughter, tears, or a conversation Or in deep contemplation, In the struggle to discern life. When all this while We were unraveling our insides Trying to make sense of who we are.
Dua Khan
I am Dua Khan, a college student, and I am from Rawalpindi, Pakistan. Writing was just a hobby until my first novel, The Deific Heart, got published. Now, I try to write as often as I can because writing has been my companion for a long time. My poetry and pieces are also published on my blog: www.thedeificheart.wordpress.com. When I’m not writing, I am reading, Netflixing, or procrastinating!
Follow me for my writings on my Instagram account: @thedeificheart
Your love is the Ocean of Stars that surround night's sky. My heart, oh how you affect my heart; the deeps of you are endless.
Your soft lips, your sweet tender kiss takes me far away to a land where love stays.
You're my sunshine ruling over my days. You're my moonlight; you give me never-ending peaceful nights.
Your love oh my darling your love is the Ocean of Stars that surround night's sky; I want to be forever lost in you.
Walter Banks
Walter Banks is a 26-year-old young man from Dallas, GA with a strong passion for writing. He writes poems and short stories for fun and hopes to one day make a living off of it.
When he’s not writing, Mr. Banks likes to listen to music especially metal and rap music ranging from artists such as Kendrick Lamar, Drake, Metallica and Slayer. He’s also an athlete and is into sports such as weightlifting, track and field, and basketball.
You can find him on Facebook and Instagram where he share’s most of his work. Facebook: Inside The Soul Instagram: @soulinsidethe
These dreams slept in temples- west and east corners. So my fingers, dipped in oils, woke them and wrote a love letter. They twisted gray and black frizzy feathers over and under, over and under and rattled the roofs of each temple, until these dreams slept no more.
Christina Dixie
Christina Dixie was born in Killeen, Texas. Currently, she resides in Orlando, Florida. Christina received her Bachelor of Arts degree in English: Creative Writing Track with a Minor in Humanities from University of Central Florida in the year 2007.
Christina enjoys music, art, nature and reading. However, her first love is writing. She writes poetry, fiction, and non fiction pieces that engage readers with metaphoric imagery that is expressive from an Afro-Southern/African American point of view and life’s experiences. Her childhood and adulthood’s experiences from Americus, Georgia; Orlando, Florida, and other places are often found in her writings. Some of her works are presented on her blog: http://tinaloves2write.blogspot.com and on Instagram @tdloveswriting. Recently, her poem, Raven’s Grief was featured on That Girl Can Write blog and website.
