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 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
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
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
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
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.
This post contains affiliate links. An affiliate link means I may earn advertising / referral fees if you make a purchase through my link, with no extra cost to you. It helps to keep this little magazine afloat. Thanks for your support. Full disclosure here.
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.
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.
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
A lone walk on the majestic shore of mysteries, I spot more muck, less peace, Washed ashore, it catches my eye, Mussels atop a plastic bottle living rather peacefully, So I crouch down, examine the feat, A miracle at first, I gazed wondrously, But as these little creatures peeked out in thirst for water, My awe turned to shock, and then shades of disgust and contempt, I saw the waves come in search of their family, Reaching out, but not enough to take them home just yet,
The conundrum was simple, Shall I take out the trash or save the creatures living on the trash? The vicious circle of our littering was far too evident now, As I helplessly watched it return into the ever accepting mass of the majestic water body, I felt myself guilty of ever having to bring myself to this dilemma, For ever having to pen this for your eyes to read and your mind to register, The careless conscious crimes we commit, That have brought us to this, A moral dilemma.
I am a 17-year-old writer based in India. I started writing poetry really early on and started posting on Instagram fairly recently. After a scarring year in depression, poetry became my coping mechanism. I also enjoy cooking, baking and singing my lungs out every now and then, and don’t shy away from the occasional painting. You can follow me on Instagram: @donutxcupcake to see more of my poetry.
But if love was actually In the air Then why did All the butterflies In my stomach Die of suffocation!?
I Don’t Belong to You by Pritha Jain
They ask me to cover This pretty skin of mine They ask me to hide one of the many things That are supposed to be my pride. They look at me With evil lurking behind their eyes And I try unsuccessfully to shun them While they've already undressed me in their minds. I've learnt to fear an empty bus And that old deserted street Oh! Tell me what to do now, in this conundrum How desperately I want to be free. I've learnt not to talk back Not when I want to spend my entire life in misery. I feel weightless now Under their heavy bodies I feel stupid now For letting them gang up against me. I lay empty now As the wind tries to blow some life into me I let my tears soak my face But I know better than to Become an unsolved case. I don't want to end up With a thousand candles lit in front of me With a thousand walking for me With a story that'll haunt me forever. "Get over it" they say No, let me rephrase "Be alive" How can I ever rebuild This broken soul of mine? "I'll live", I assure My mother who's been weeping for weeks My father who's never left me But most importantly That small part of me that's still left to die. I fight back vigorously I don't want to disappoint anyone anymore. They've made me wear Trousers instead of those cute little shorts Pants instead of those lacy skirts of mine An invisible coat of shame Because Everyone around me thinks I'm the one to be blamed. They've given me scars that'll outlast my age Am I just supposed to bottle up my rage?
Hello! My name is Pritha Jain, and I’m a 14 year old writer/poet from New Delhi, India. I love writing as well as reading and I aspire to become a renowned author. To promote my poems, I started a poetry blog-https://prithajain.wordpress.com/ I consider writing as the best way to express myself and not only do I take it seriously, I enjoy every bit of it. One of my poems has been published in the “100 Best Poems” Anthology by Swipe Pages and some more are about to be published. Instagram handle is @_penningitalldown_
“Stars scattered across the sky” Makes sense inside the city, But when country clouds are cleared, “Scattered” is somewhat understating it.
Stars are spilled across the sky In abundant celestial purpose.
Gaze at the galaxy’s edge, Etched in lights light years away, A painted picture before our eyes.
See the space-bears, Ursas delighting to sing their star-songs, Roaring the Righteousness of God and rejoicing.
Wave at the Warrior in the sky, Stuck slaying the Serpent As a sign to mankind.
The heavens do declare the Glory of God.
About The Poet
Corbin Young is a poet who has been writing consistently for about a year, since 2018. He attended a rigorous Classical Christian school for all thirteen years of his pre-college education, and is now attending New Saint Andrews College for a four-year Liberal Arts degree. He enjoys writing as a way to marry beauty and truth and believes that dragons do exist. He is looking to continue writing and possibly teach when he finishes his degree.
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