passion, art, art,
by Jermaine Kirimi |
Poetry is the art of expression,
like a magnet attracts the poles,
poetry attracts my feeble heart,
till the feeling of lust surpasses love,
till the meaning of love becomes lust,
making me connected like the Siamese,
interconnection like blood vampires,
a mere myth but they create an empire,
the emotional attachment is tattooed,
embedded in my soul like a bad curse,
engraved like the tablets of moses,
then conjugated to show the rhythm,
to show the flow... not too low,
to melodies the flow... to grow,
yes poetry is the art of expression.
by samiha zubair |
deep, devotion, love,
Indemnify for your goodwill eternally, I fail to be.....even
Goaded kaleidoscope makes one feel lucky to have titillating summons....with
No egregious sentiments even on accolated appraisal of you with....her
Soul shackled in cyclone of karma always pave it's terminus towards...you
Neither jostled by the violent gusts, nor worried for the inedible obstacles en route there...are
Peep over the wide expanse of the siamese past and future to others may seem...still
Every beat harps the same note that even now you are still...mine
by Hannington Mumo |
Writers are identical birds of a feather,
Siamese twins of the selfsame womb.
Their meeting is an eerie serendipity,
Whether alive or in the quiet of the tomb.
Their labors crackle to a symphony,
Their pens merge to a scribbling sound
That, if well listened to, is the whisper
Of Mother Nature's love to those around.
Though rare, when a writer meets a writer
The prickly burdens of existence get lighter.
by millard lowe |
analogy, black african american, eulogy, family, imagery, tribute,
My Uncles’ Hands Were Strong…
My uncles’ hands were strong:
fathering children they never had.
My uncles’ hands were strong;
yet gentle like the chiseled hands
of Michelangelo’s Pieta:
strong saintly shooting hands
that touched tender souls with gentleness
only undying love could give.
On their bent backs
rose a Siamese nation
of oppressors and the oppressed:
a Janus nation whose face reflected
mockery of its supposed democracy.
My uncles’ hands were strong;
strong like steel hammers and anvils:
strong fisted hands breaking chattel chains.
Yes, my uncles’ hands were strong:
and the strong men just keep coming on…!
by Stuck In Sepia |
confusion, fantasy, imagination, lost love, love,
In a daydream, it's easier to breathe
In a daydream, I'm not begging from my knees
In a daydream, the world consists of You and I
In a daydream, I never feel the need to cry
In a daydream, we're walking side by side
In a daydream, there's still lustre in your eyes
In a daydream, there's no darkness in our past
In a daydream, we're happy at long last
In a daydream, it's easy as it seems
In a daydream, we are still Siamese
In a daydream, moon light will guide our way
In a daydream is where I shall stay..
by OPEMIPO AKINSOYINU |
inspirational, love, on writing and wordsnight, night,
The glorious end and her shaking beginning
The majestic night and the bravura morn
The dark night and the blue morn
December and January
Today tells a tale of yesterday
Today a retrospect of what it was
Break-up’s siamese, make-up
Child and mother
The egg and the fowl
The egg, oh the egg
The rain and the sun
I and we
Can I stand the tall test?
I, I! Like a ram charging
Can I stand the test?
For her patience is wild wild wait.
by Danielle White |
animals, funny, love
Suki's fur is soft as silk,
colored like the cream of milk,
eyes the hue of polar ice,
purr-box is a loud device.
Suki's tail has much to say,
boldly striped, her genes betray,
momma was a Siamese,
daddy was a lesser breed.
Rescued at just four weeks old,
so small, we had to gently hold,
she's the sunshine in our home,
with love for her I wrote this poem.
(Suki is Japanese for 'beloved')
by Johnny Rhinem |
art, baby, cancer,
Looking at Hyde in disbelief, while he smiles then pulls my hair ?
Lying atop myself feeling his baby's breath, chuckling; trying to dream..
Kicking our little feet tiny toes twinkling nursing, love's, blue bottle a sudden
Kiss upon the brow sparkling these joyful eyes reaching, to beauty's sky; rapturous
Stirring deep inside slobbering on my cheek crying, Daddyyyy, he poo poo on me; laughter.
by Line Gauthier |
christmas, desire, muse, pets, poetry, uplifting,
On Christmas Day
She’ll be waking up really early
Running down the stairs
To check under the tree
Hoping Santa left for her
The special gift of her desire
She wrote and asked for a pet
One that she would love and pamper
That would keep her company
And stay faithfully by her side
To help her write her poetry
To tease her Muse making sure
She always stays awake
She was hoping with all my heart
To find under the tree
A brand new Siamese fighting fish
In all its splendor
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on December 18, 2018, for contest CHRISTMAS PETS - WRITING CHALLENGE DECEMBER 2018 sponsored by DEAR HEART - RANKED 3RD
by Victoria Anderson-Throop |
animals, childhood, blue, me,
MY SIAMESE KITTEN’S EYES
Does my face look blue to you?
Eyes so bright and tiny too
I know your eyes can see me smile
See me coming from a mile
See the food put in your dish
See the bowl that holds the fish
Blue, blue eyes --I love them so
In the dark they even glow.
by Yoni Dvorkis |
Life is given by default
Om of secrets locked in vaults
Veer off course, attack, assault
End is nigh, reprieve exalt
In my mind lay sacred realms
Solace for the overwhelmed
Always and forever
Love be stolen, never
Lost connection, sever
Truth cannot compromise
Heaven lives on hell's demise
Everlasting lover's eyes
Reach for gorgeous clear blue skies
End is nigh, remove disguise
"In a dream we are connected
Siamese twins, at the wrist"*
*quote taken from Smashing Pumpkins 'Geek USA' off of Siamese Dream.
by Miike Rogers |
body, desire, emotions, love, passion, sensual, trust,
It is at that repetitive
when two try so hard to become
Under quilt and comfort
and comforter and
sheet and down
A beast with four tangled legs,
two backs, heads peering,
eye's closed over shoulders,
one dangling arm, numb.
It is at that repetitive
when cords reach, connect
Try so hard to become
A heat that sooths and quenches
our inherent need for a
by Tony Bush |
life, love, nostalgia, sad, time,
I miss us
the way we used to be
you lay down on me
Siamese for hours
beneath my thighs
and ground your love
into my steel
I now feel
no sense of love
behind blue eyes
of dust and flowers
we are a memory
I miss us