by Tasmina Hayat Khan |
Fables are told today
Only on past golden days
Love is what we’ll make today
Loneliness will be ashamed to stay.
Oasis as longs for rain,
Wacky me to get a swain,
Iambus we long to gain
Naiad I shall play again.
Gaiety will be brought back to gain.
Tabard you will be wearing
Hallucinating, spell casting;
Earnestly I’ll be waiting,
Surrounding your hypnotizing.
Ubiquitous glee will eradicate dark.
Never ending exquisiteness,
Rabidity seeing of such love you made.
Abashed cheek will make you a pearl
Yaffle of green love tree will sing a song
Sabbath will announce that holly concord.
by Michael Smith |
Days abashed and washed
Surrendering further to the depths
Gulps of my own selfishness
Oceans vast with a man of "ifs"
Your love merely as my bouyancy
Another slip under holding breaths
I take and take, over and over again
But to you, drowning is the irony
For that love returned, I can never give
by Wade Souza |
angst, love, passion
Trembling bones. Arrested jaw.
Like bolt advised to keep affixed
Utter silence as I gape across the starry ceiling
Thunder crawling closer.
And I, a child,
Abashed in her bosom, dizzy--
under opal sheets of serenity
Against the pane, the bough raps incessantly
A talon scraping at my spine
Amid dissonance, her eyes a soothing refuge
Sails in squalls unwavered.
Then as abrupt as lightning struck
Piece of mine and mind
Acquiesce and into sleep
I slip beyond remorse.
by Anisha Dutta |
with flowers moistened in tears
not to feel abashed.
'Sen-ru ( rather than Hai -ku )' Contest by Brian Strand