Facebook
Google+
Twitter
LinkedIn

New Poetry, Fiction, Essays

Circle Logo

When things will get better

by Zebra Black

.

things
will
get
better
when

my arthritis abates
when
im better looking
when
im smarter
when
im taller with better bones
when
my hair grows back
nice and wavy
when
i lose thirty ponds of fat
when
im filthy rich
when
my eyes are bluer
when
i have a PhD
without guile
and i don’t have any
ticks ticks ticks
and no longer
still hate my dead father
who never let me forget that
the hand that feeds me
is the boot that kicks me

things
will
get
better
when

im celebrated for my myriad talents
when
my singing brings the house down
when
im forty years younger
and know everything i know now
when
im a world class boxer and poet
and can dance
the pachanga
with the stars
and exhibit my edgy brilliant sculpture
and elegant paintings
at the museum of modern art
and live in a big malibu beach house
a big chested hero
with a nice suntan
and a bugatti chiron
in the drive way
tough guy tattoos
and four hundred dollar sunglasses

things
will
get
better
when

all men admire me
and
all women adore me
and want to take me home
for pussy kiss cocktails
leg shows
and sing giggling
throwing fluttering kisses
at me
during their fluffy bubble baths
while i photograph them
with my perfect
digital
memory
and

things
will
get
better
when

i can win marathons
running backwards
while smoking a cigar
never tiring
and party like hell boy
inhaling drugs and booze
with out the slightest ill affects

when
i can beat gravity
and fly at will
when
my health is perfect
and my teeth brush themselves
and my breath smells like bay rum
when
im never to hot or cold
but always cool
when
i can breath underwater and kiss fishes
and ride neptunium whales
and giant squids
and fly through deep space
without a rocket ship
hows it hangin xeno

when
i cant help
but love everybody all the time
and all animals are happy
and have plenty to eat
thats not each other
and i play with lions
who kiss to lick me
and every where i go
death war and disease
are vanquished
and every body is in ecstasy
when life is chocolate kisses
when
multiculturalism means
that every body is falling in love with everybody
and kisses never cease
when trees are made of lolly pops
and no one ever gets diabetes
and flowers dance to latin rhythms
and everybody stops arguing about god
while in a state of immortal joy

thats
when
things
will
get
better !

.

Zebra Black: My education spanned the geographical locations from New York to San Francisco where I studied fine arts and obtained a Master of Fine Arts.

I live in North Western Massachusetts in an old stone mill where I with my lovely wife run a small art publishing company. I love astrology, occultism, art, literature, music, working quietly to incubate poems and visual art. Many of my poems remain explorations rooted in the experience of super consciousness as the anima descends through the world soul into the subconscious labyrinths of innerness. Where lunar anamorphic streams of consciousness radiate out creating the nature of our reality and shape our lives

>


>

Refuge

by Akshaya Pawaskar

.

The mountains don’t
call us, we call them
close 
when we are lost and
wandering stilted into
prose.
They do not speak to
us, their stony mouth
fibrosed
echoing the unheard
Voice of an inner child
that froze
the thoughts seeming
lucid than when holed

In tired city

When we hit the roads, 
defying away from all
Gravity.
When the minds open
like a flower in fullest
Bloom
Our soul opens radiant 
as we saunter towards
the moon.

.

Palaces of Illusion

by Akshaya Pawaskar

.

I strolled Carmel by the sea 
streets pretending I was in 
Europe.
Mist hung low and frost made
me pull my fleece tighter still
hugging.
And all the Turkish art shops
dodged by as there were quite
a few.
I remembered you, the ornate
light lamps that you hung at 
our house
And how we lay on our divan
and admired them until dawn,
sleepless.
We were playing the staring 
game and you had to swiftly
look away 
to peek death in the eye and 
you smiled. I was so proud 
of you, 
You swiveled to gaze back into
my rainy eyes instead and said 
catch me 
If you can. Since then I have 
been trying to catch you across 
The Pacific 
hoping to find you, as a soul
cruising afloat over the awed
titanic ocean
A fear you wanted to overcome
with me. Didn’t you say?  Then
I begin to
wonder what is it I wish verily?

To find or lose you or just pick

Scattered pieces 
of my own and make sense out
of them. Make intricate Turkish
pottery.

Glittering, a palace of illusions,
where we are still holding hands 
Into the night.

.

Akshaya Pawaskar is a doctor by profession and poet by passion. Her poems have been published in Efiction India, Writer’s ezine, Tipton poetry Journal, Ink drift, Awake in the world anthology by Riverfeet press and few anthologies by Lost tower publications.

.


.

Day after rainstorms

by Ash Slade

.

Rain spatter 

Brown water spatter

Long week old spatter 

Splashing your car spatter.

Making big mess spatter.    Muddy water

Unclear water. Trail of brokenness water. 

Empty sereneness in spite of no bitter bite.

.

Ash Slade considers himself to be a mysterious person. Poetry has been his passion since 12 years old in 7th grade. A poem can take minutes or days to write, each one is important. Ash lives in Connecticut in a small New England town. Hobbies included collecting notebooks and poetry books. 

.


 

 

 

.

 

You might also like

And The Winners Are-

Spring Summer Chapbook Contest Winners. Our guest judge, Southlight editor, Vivien Jones announces her winners in CBC III as well as talking about the quality

Read More »

Highly Commended

Our guest judge Vivien Jones made an initial shortlist of twelve entries from the over sixty entries sent to her. From this longlist she selected

Read More »

And The Winners Are-

Spring Summer Chapbook Contest Winners. Our guest judge, Southlight editor, Vivien Jones announces her winners in CBC III as well as talking about the quality

Read More »

Share this post with your friends

You may also enjoy
A Book by Colin Dardis . It is yellowed, a…