Posted by: Ron DuBour | January 19, 2018

Chitrangada-3~by Lopamudra Mishra


 

 

Chitrangada-3

Image may contain: 1 person, sitting

{Chitrangada speaking to her maid Sujata}
I Chitrangada,princess of Manipur,
Is confused, words choke my throat,
And I am bemused,
Come my dear Sujata, suggest me,
To come out from this confusion…….

When I met Pandava hero,{Arjun}
My shivering hands forbid me to throw any arrow,
In the disguise of man also,my eyes were fixed to his stature,
The pounds of my heart started crying,its he …
Its he……he is the man ,who will give shape to your future,
I returned, but you know Sujata,
I left myself there,
I lost me somewhere in the warfare,
His deep blue eyes imprinted mark on my heart,
I want to touch and kiss his firm fingers,
To express my feelings ,or you can say my infatuation,
Were so strong that my heart wanted no restriction.
His harmonious voice is still persistent in my ears,
Yes,dear Iam completely soaked in the ocean of obsession.

Say Sujata ,Am I not beautiful
Or I don’t have the potential to become a part of that great hero,
Don’t I have an alluring shape to grab his attention and similar to me,
My feminine curvature is not intoxicating to pull him towards me?
See dear ,the stars mocking at my disheveled face,
Moon also turns his side ,as if my strides were unable evoke flames in their chest,
How will Arjun then accept me as his mistress?

{The story of Chitrangada comes from the epic MAHABHARAT.She was the wife of Arjun ,the great Pandava warrier,was abused of treachery by her husband.She was the princess of Manipur.Arjun left her and went away .The lady of courage and great archery skill brought her son Babruvahan single handedly. Babruvahan later defeated Arjun in a war.
Lopamudra Mishra
http://lopamudramishra.com/
https://www.amazon.in/gp/aw/d/9352075935/ref=mp_s_a1

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Posted by: Ron DuBour | January 19, 2018

Oddity~by Hansraj Sharma


 

 

Oddity

Against all odds
Dealing with oddity
Poise and positivity 
On the beach of life
Without giving up
Taking first step
To meet challenges
Feeling lucky-
To find storms
Working out lazy bones
Bringing back to life.
Humanity a forgotten theme
Tune, tenor and Tone
Playing life-game
At the play ground
Ground of life and death.

Fair or foul
Flaxen or fetid
Light or dark
Blond or soiled
Clean or unclean
Just or unjust
Fighting must my fight
Inevitably, the change is
Evitable and predestined.

Literally-
Taken in by the storms
Time is to strike back
Unconditional struggle-
For no fruit-
For may up to no good
Breaking all stereotypes
Nature has a special plan
For showing bundle of energy
Key to getting as fresh
As it gets beautiful within.

With a free will and force
To shave or not to shave
The overgrowth
Keeping clean and affable
Reminiscing down the lanes
Credibly, once I walked upon.
-Copyright © hrsharma ®2017
Ludhiana, Punjab, India.

Posted by: Ron DuBour | January 19, 2018

I know,I do~by Dale Fittler


 

 

I know,I do

When does the hurt end,does it ever end or will it last forever.
The pain has never dulled,with each passing minute it only deepens.
I am no longer complete,with every passing second I break and fall apart.
I cannot mend this damage,so I just carry on and play pretend.

The seconds are minutes,the minutes are hours,the hours are days in my world.
And every one that passes only confirms without you I am nought.
I run and Chase and the faster I run the further away you seem to get.
Like the wanted oasis I need but you only ever end up as a mirage.

I don’t want to sleep anymore in case I never wake up and lose your image forever.
I fight the sanity,I fight the insanity,forever fighting just to lose anyway.
I know you want me to quit on you but my heart will not just quit on you.
I remember your words,I haven’t forgotten,I promise I remember,I do.

I know you don’t want me and I know I will never be good enough for you.
You want folding paper money and in your eyes,I am just jingling change.
We are actors in the spotlight but you are on a completely different stage.
I am a bird with his wings clipped and you are free outside the cage.

I promise I will crawl back into the hole I came from,nowhere near you.
I will just remain the grotesque monster that you seem to see.
I am sorry I am not the Prince charming that you dream for and need.
I understand that to you I am nothing,I realize this and I know,I do

Dale Fittler

Posted by: Ron DuBour | January 19, 2018

Antibodies~by Paul Lenzi


 

 

Antibodies

Monoclonal_Antibody_1082911

Monoclonal Antibodies Attacking a Cancer Cell

what gentle rage
swims in the blood
warm red river of
human emotions
that spawns quiet
warriors ethical
monoclones armed
and dispatched to
confront and subdue
diseased pathogenic
invasive injustice

 

 

From my books Inside the Smoke and Legacies (vol. 2)

Posted by: Ron DuBour | January 19, 2018

Philosopher’s Stone~by Paul Lenzi


 

 

Philosopher’s Stone

phil

“The Philosopher’s Stone” by Alexandra Eldridge

iron to gold

profane crucible

blessed with a waive

of ritual hands

incantations escape

words ex-nihilo

drift with mysterious

meter from lips

cowled and bearded

a magus in thrall

elemental elixirs

bequeath immortality

wise with the broth

brewed of secrets

one stone magnum opus

impressed by the ages

immersed in distilled

aqua vitae the rosy cross

waters that washed

the ambitions of ancients

*************************

 

From my book

Ephemera: Moments of Mind

Posted by: Ron DuBour | January 19, 2018

LAST FLASH OF EDEN~by Petri Karvinen


 

 

LAST FLASH OF EDEN

Can you smell the smoke
From the pyre of vanities
Be careful not to choke
It´s dangerous to breathe

Better close your ears
Before the courtyard bell
Those who went too near
Did not return to tell

These gardeners don´t sow
But only wish for weeds
No more dice to throw
When gambling on your knees

They gathered in the offing
Being scared he might come back
Because instead of a coffin
He was laid in Cadillac

Posted by: Ron DuBour | January 19, 2018

Of lions and gulls~by Jeremy J Croucher


 

 

Of lions and gulls

In Portsmouth the lions
outside the Guild Hall
sit patiently waiting
and watch over all

They can never of course
leave their posts as that would
disciplinary matters
be as they should

So instead they’re reliant
on gulls playing host
to the messenger service
in from the coast

They’ll speak of the sea
and the to-ing and fro-ing
they see from the sky
wherever they’re going

Of lions and gulls
it’s a partnership thing
which together to us
the truth they will bring

©Jemverse

Photo – Jempics

 

Posted by: Ron DuBour | January 19, 2018

– Promises Fulfiled- ~by Gerry Sikazwe


 

 

– Promises Fulfiled-

We were promises before our conceptions,
But we became the future in flesh
At our births with our first cries.
We are no ordinary men
Or women,
We are what was prophesied;
We are who our father’s hoped for
To rid this world of monotony
To better the dress of our time.
Our tomorrow was yesterday,
And today the day before it.
We have no time to waste,
Let us harness our being honing
our potential,
And be what our mother’s wombs ordained us be
Glorious gods in flesh!
Who refuse to taste death to become
legends,
For we were legends while unborn,
Now a promise fulfilled, dreams realised
To be the difference,
the missing link.


(Words That Matter 2018)
Gerry Sikazwe

.
Read more of my poems here: https://www.facebook.com/gerryz.poetry/
Enjoy the read and engage!

Posted by: Ron DuBour | January 19, 2018

CHANGE~by Stephen Miles


 

 

CHANGE

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Posted by: Ron DuBour | January 19, 2018

ASHES ON WORKBENCH ~by Jyotirmaya Thakur


 

 

ASHES ON WORKBENCH

Image may contain: 1 person, tree and outdoor

While viewing our life in streams of gold,
Of wondrous adventures stemming bold,
Tingled excitement of climbing trees old,
Or hitting iron poles running on backroads.
Father smoking classic cigars in pensive moods,
Looking casually minding our interests outdoors.

There would be ashes on his table workbench,
We remember his surprised and startled bends,
As he often burnt his fingers by cigarette butt ends,
Always preoccupied carrying logs he fetched,
The saw dust heaps had a density to lend,
Spreading on muddy potholes to amend.

A tree house he made for us to play safe,
At our random calls he sternly gazed,
My mother carrying a tray of coffee cookies waved,
On hot days jugs of lemonade to rave,
Insulting the blue sky adults smoking till gray,
We came down laughing with excuses lame.

After dusk descended all washed bright as new,
Father in contended nature with respect due,
In a patio chair leaning forward for birds view,
Mother lifts with a jerk for no problems brew,
Putting all children to bed before we renew,
Our giggling surging in waves of true blue.

Jyotirmaya Thakur copyright 2018.

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