REBLOG: ‘Fears of Freedom Lost’ by Nigel Byng

Poem: With labored breaths she welcomes more The tired, the poor, the wretched to our shores But rusted chains now dangle from her torch The masses on the border won’t be allowed to cross Gun powder greetings, It’s ours not yours, the illusion is fleeting. Armed men on horseback deliver a chastening The people cried… Continue reading REBLOG: ‘Fears of Freedom Lost’ by Nigel Byng

Promises, or: Lies

A Pantoum I abandon faith in non-sense; I see no hint of divine justice; I've lost my patience for pretense; Reject all groups that bid: "Trust us..." I see no hint of divine justice; Though hope's reassurance tempts me; Reject all groups that bid: "Trust us..." Untestable promises ring empty Though hope's reassurance tempts me,… Continue reading Promises, or: Lies

Anticipation, or: Presentiment

Poetry Partners #172 'Anticipation', a tanka by Destiny of 'Destiny's Designz' anticipation breathes disconsolateness intentionally fractures fictive fantasies yet still- we found lost in dreams Destiny's Designz: A tanka by ben Alexander of ‘The Skeptic’s Kaddish’ presentiment resents sober reasoning mental clarity must needs be relentlessly taunted- torn to little bits

Trivialities, really, or: Futile rage

Poetry Partners #170 'Snow', a poem by Kiri Salazar of 'TheDustSeason' Snow, as heavy as death, How you break the frail back. Shoveling is a gladiator sport, and Winter is the lion which slays you. Roar the oncoming horde of flakes. Sodden mittens clench the staff, A blade against an unrelenting foe. Blisters in anticipation.… Continue reading Trivialities, really, or: Futile rage

Breakup, or: Breakdown

One year older and one hundred years more experienced than he, she broke up with her then-boyfriend who was in his mid-twenties; and he thought: "Well, I'll give her one good try," as Harry Chapin once famously sang; she patronized him for months, for he was one year younger and one hundred years less experienced… Continue reading Breakup, or: Breakdown

Woodwork, or: Far from the tree

A limerick Respected for both mind and might, The nails he hit lost every fight; So, where had I come from? His son who was all thumbs Knew only to dream and to write. ‘What do you see’ Prompt #154 For Sadje’s weekly #WDYS prompt, she offered the photo to the right as inspiration for… Continue reading Woodwork, or: Far from the tree

Red, or: Blue pill

EPIGRAPH: Doubt is the origin of wisdom. -René Descartes (1596 – 1650) An 'Emmett' poem I doubt enough for all; Doubt tints the lens through which I look; Enough crushing disappointments - that is all it took. For, really, how often can one smash up against a wall? All my silly childhood fantasies, I long… Continue reading Red, or: Blue pill

The lazy gulls would mock her

As Aatami grew increasingly distant, Tuulikki became despondent at her self-chosen earthly fate. Whenever her human mate left on business, she'd rescue two dazzling cloth wings from the laundry and stand, arms apart, against the wind at the shore. The lazy gulls would mock her mercilessly, but Tuulikki's contempt for herself was greater. This piece… Continue reading The lazy gulls would mock her