Posted by: Ron DuBour | July 30, 2015

where even walls break their silence ~by Nutan Sarawagi

This poem was inspired by Mandour Saleh Hikel


where even walls break their silence

In the death of silence , i scream for help
But no one hears me , in the sounds of the death well
as my screams gets louder , drowned in screams of fear
the child joins me
knowing not what’s fear
in the fearless child as we instill fear
taking away his love replaced by this sense of fear
in his insecurity he now knows only fear
as fear is replaced by more fear
he now knows only death in it , waiting to take away his fear
alone as he is left in this world of fear
taking in the fear
in the fear of hate he dies , only knowing fear
the fear of hate , replaced by death of fear in his fear
he picks up death , he ends his life in fear
to fear no more , his fear in the death of fear
he dies
no longer in fear !

Posted by: Ron DuBour | July 30, 2015

NICTOPHILIA~by O’real Mc Tukur




In contrast to my childhood fears
The dim of the dark is where my serenity rests
Solace is ever found
Where all is out of sight
As even the most minute miniature
Is cloaked in the deep
Of a pitch-black atmosphere.
In the night
I tend to delight!

To the thoughts of the world,
Comes sorrow in the night
But to the heaven within me:
After the rays of the scorching sun,
I find genuine glee by the moon-glow.
In the night,
I tend to delight!

What you deem nightmares,
I call foolish dreams
Because I swallow them
Into the guts of my spirit.
In the night
I tend to delight!

I can run swiftly along a boulevard
Without the fear of being overrun
I can sing soulfully
When the wind is my only audience
That carries the flow of my pitch
To the angels for recording,
And to the jinns for gyration
I can mine deeply
Into the bedrock of my feelings
To return with a gemstone
Of an outstanding array of diction.
In the night
I tend to delight!

Upon my rift with the day
I warmly embrace the apology of the night
‘Cause the ghost that scares thee away
Is the lullaby that lures me to sleep
After the hectic state of the daylight,
Comfort intersects with peace of mind.
In the night
I tend to delight!

You may say I’m nocturnal
After all, it’s not unnatural
Even when it comes to being spiritual,
At this time,
Most prayers meets their approval
This time, I converse with nature
This time, I get the invisible picture
And this time, I see beyond the future.
In the night
I tend to delight!

Posted by: Ron DuBour | July 30, 2015

IF I COULD…~by Sagar Kataria




If I could pass this evening under the shade of your tress
Let me lie on your lap as I feel its gentle caress
I have yearned for this paradise with perpetual bliss
The curls that fall on my face feel like a tender kiss
A quiver shakes the whole body when your hands cover my eyes in shyness
Together we rhyme a melodious note of a romantic song to confess
It seems as this amorous moment would turn endless
The smiling moon has even come down a little to bless
Come close now so that the breath could blow your hair across
I wish to pass this evening under the shade of your tress…

If I could ask you the depth of this ocean
Let me follow every course in your caravan
I have longed to make your sculpture as an artisan
Recall the time while sitting on the bank of river for hours watching the swan
It is your soothing smile that makes this place utopian
You are already mine as it is our next life that we need to plan
I wonder why dry foliage that fell on the ground ask to meet the branches again
The touch of your locks has made me a puritan
You are my beloved but I would call you a magician
I wish to ask you the depth of this ocean…

If I could steal your shadow from this earth
Let me embrace it in my arms and feel its warmth
I have pined for this passionate moment since my previous birth
Even if I had to pursuit the orbit from north to south
My quest would have continued until zenith
Now that we are holding our hands so let us take a solemn oath
Seems the azure sky is chanting a carillon as there is a shower of hyacinth
You are my strength and your penumbra is my faith
Our love is so pure that cannot be gauged by a goldsmith
I wish to steal your shadow from this earth…

If I could pass this evening under the shade of your tress
If I could ask you the depth of this ocean
If I could steal your shadow from this earth

Posted by: Ron DuBour | July 30, 2015


A Poem Dedicated to A Writer…



The sun seems to last in a writer’s heart
Shedding the voices locked inside
To the hill taken is a message to the wind
Blind in thought, but open in mind

Yet the sky may be out of reach
To the world there is a message to preach
All night the heart seeks retribution
For a world heading into destruction

A writer sees the world through his heart
A fool standing for what’s right
He is the voice on the street until he dies
His comfort sacrificed for the hopeless

He stands for a world inequality is not tolerated
A good life for all, under the sun and cloud
He seeks not a heart honor bound
The ambition of a writer is to be heard

All Right Reserved (c) Akan E. Udofia 2015

Posted by: Ron DuBour | July 30, 2015

Bad Apples~by rldbour



Bad Apples

Do people really hate that much?

Let us stop and take a look!

Should we hate the Germans?

Cause Hitler’s mind was cooked!


Why not hate all Christians?

KKK claim they are!

Why not just hate everyone

That live near and far!


They say one bad apple

Can ruin one whole bunch

This is true with mankind

Many don’t have a hunch.


Religion plays a huge role

In hating of a brother

Across the spectrum we can see

That hatred must be smothered.


One bad apple is all it takes

To lose all common sense

Love is gone in one’s mind

And hatred now is spent.


We hate those of different color

And of different faiths.

What is wrong with everyone?

This is our world they make!


We persecute many groups

This is just not right

Because of a few bad apples

Violence is their light.


Hatred is not religion

It is the opposite of life

We are here to live in peace

Put down the gun and knife!

Posted by: Ron DuBour | July 30, 2015

Sky Dancers~by rldubour



Sky Dancers

If you could put some music, to their ballet in the sky.

What song would you choose, as they gracefully fly high?

Something instrumental, like Beethoven or maybe Bach.

Something swift and graceful, like the movements of a hawk.


The falcons and the eagles as they simply glide.

As if dancing in the winds, way up in the sky.

Or the flocks of geese, always flying in formation.

As they call to one another, until they reach their destination.


Crows by the thousands, going to roost for the night.

All together they will gather, to rest from their day of flight.

The pigeons from the city, as they fly in groups.

As the move from right to left, making graceful loops.


Even sparrows and the starlings, as they do the same.

No matter what the weather, be either sun or ran.

If you could put some music, to their ballet in the sky.

What song would you choose? As they gracefully fly high.


Daily missive for Thursday the 30th of July.

Just a little bit of cafe indulgence.

He was a grown man
And wore a baseball cap
Back to front
On an overcast day in England,
What is that about.
He carried a tray
Filled with pastries
And cheesy toasties
To an overloaded table
Where a woman sat
Sporting a high viz tan
From out of a can.
She had a blond thatch
With a growth of
Dark roots to match
The true blue, Chelsea tattoo
And the bruise under
The eye,
From the accident
Of the night before
At closing time.
He needed to keep
Her in line
But she had
Caught the back of his hand,
Too full,
Flush on the chin
And tripped over a garbage bin.
So he picked her up
And threw her in.
He thought she was out
On the pull
When he caught her.
Out with her daughter,
From a previous relationship.
He just meant it to be
A little clip.
But broke her nose
And busted a lip.
It was her fault though
Not his.
After all she was supposed
To be at home
Making his tea,
Not in a club, drinking bucks fizz.
‘…It is a women’s place…’
He said with a straight face,
‘…That is where you should be.’
But that was last night
And today
Is for signing on
And shopping for essentials.
A few cans
And some basic fundamentals,
Like chicken nuggets,
Oven chips
And clementines.
Not tangerines
As he dislikes pips,
And a stop for lunch
In the cafe,
As he tries to make up
For his stupid gaff.
He will be more careful
Next time.
After all he is the boss.
But if she wants to
Blow him off
That will be her loss.
He could really show
If he wanted too.
But then,
Who would cook tea,
Wash his tracky and trainers
And clean out the loo.

Posted by: Ron DuBour | July 30, 2015

Cloudy Days~by rldubour



Cloudy Days

Gone are the colors of the autumn as winter comes to pay.

Cold is fast approaching as the sun does fade away.

The nights are colder and the days are gray.

As you gaze out the window, on this cloudy day.

The leaves have all fallen as they cover up the lawn.

Mother Nature is preparing, for old man winters dawn.

With frost on the flowerbeds as you smell the cold crisp air.

You sit there by the window and watch as if to stare.


For a moment you feel content, then you feel a chill.

As you down a sweater and you sit there still.

With many thoughts deep in your mind putting them all in line.

Thoughts of the past and future taking one thought at a time.

They speak of cabin fever when you have to stay inside.

That’s when the dark clouds come and cover up the sky.

Snow will soon be falling as if a blanket on the earth.

And Jack Frost will come calling, wearing his heavy shirt.

The winter brings the holidays, with spring not far away.

All this I see through the window, on this cloudy day.

Posted by: Ron DuBour | July 30, 2015

Travails of Democracy~by Paul F. Lenzi



Travails of Democracy


“Allegory of Good and Bad Government”
Painting by Ambrogio Lorenzetti

courage is needed
to close the divide
stand into the future
relinquish the past
reunite around
purposes common
to hearts and minds
famished by discord

what separates men
are misguided beliefs
errant judgments
that evil inheres to
positions opposing
of prevalent policies

what brings men
together is leadership
willing to acknowledge
able to conciliate
values and viewpoints
competing for esteem

whence do leaders
emerge from the jungle
of politics practiced
with feral intensity
savaging systems of
law-driven government
favoring cults of glib
sound-bite celebrity

Posted by: Ron DuBour | July 30, 2015

Bindlestiff~by Paul F. Lenzi





"Hobo Jack" Drawing by p0tluck From

“Hobo Jack”
Drawing by p0tluck

take pause of due rest
at this far advanced
milepost shaded by
century sycamores
unravel the bindle
lay out those dear
meager possessions
life garnered in
less careworn years
what to make of
desultory heirloom
collections of stanzas
disjointed forgotten
insensibly purposed
how useless the words
scribbled too long ago
yellowed wrinkled
their prettiness
spoiled by hardship
of half-hearted effort
who would possibly
want them recite
them perhaps best
to leave them behind
here among these old
shadows that whisper
the end awaits nigh
let the elements
hasten their molder
and lighten the load
for what journey
remains the last leg
the short road that
leads close ahead into
mists sighing blissful
with quiet obscurity

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