Post on 30-Mar-2016
description
transcript
1
2
Contents
Letter from the editor…………………………Page 3
Poems by Dan Snow…………………………..Page 5
Poems by Eric Mwathi………………………..Page 25
Poems by Debbie J. Embrey……………….....Page 47
Contributor’s Profiles………………………….Page 68
3
Letter from the Editor
This first issue of Anthology29 will be dedicated to the muse of love
poetry, named Erato, because the theme of love is an important one, both
for poetry and for life. Even though love is what a lot of literature, as well as
gossip columns are directly or indirectly discussing all the time, the
importance of love is still greatly underestimated.
In the book of 1 John, chapter 4, verse eight, the Bible tells us that
God is love.
It is out of our parents’ love becoming flesh, that we were born, and
are mostly capable of only giving love to others, in the same degree that love
has been given to us.
Not only is love important for the existence of mankind, but a lot of
the problems that we have to face in life occur because of a lack of it.
I believe that most of us never receive the amount of love we need,
and that most of the problems, in this world, are linked with precisely this
problem. If we all had received the amount of love, intimacy and
understanding that we had needed as a child, then I believe that physical or
other forms of violence, as well as the long list of addictions that this world
is burdened with, would not be a problem to the extent that it is today.
Violent political conflicts would not be here if it were not for our
neurotic world leaders reacting towards domestic and international conflicts,
in the same dishonest and even hostile way, which they have been taught to
deal with them, in their own dysfunctional and loveless households.
It is for this reason that I feel this issue should be dedicated to show what
contemporary poets have to say about the subject of love.
4
Yours Sincerely,
Eric Mwathi
(Editor)
5
.Dan Snow.
6
.Upon the Skylight of Illuma, Bugis.
Beneath the balcony, the twinkling city
gazes back, its thousand-eyed stare
a luscious string of diamonds, yet empty
as the night sky showing light through dark.
Within this facade, what a glimmer! Blacked-out,
this city loses its entire luster, like a cake
with all its candles blown. So I'm aware,
were I to rub the light concealer off your face,
you'd retain the same luscious beauty --
a shade fainter perhaps, but still
you'd glow with radiance of fallen stars.
I cannot extinguish you from my mind,
glued as you're there, brilliant as starlight,
compelling, an empty shoulder beside.
So would you lean upon it, and fill me
with warmth no thousandth star may grant?
7
8
.Jasmine.
Fire
burns behind your eyes
those irises submerging
me in another world
a little girl’s dreams
of dancing her nights away
and making it to the stage
(which she has)
taking your hand in dance
lesson, a hold on something
tender
I do not know its name
this feeling
your body
settling into my palm in close hold
and we danced a couple ’s
rounds before the dance teachers
called for a change of partners
eons ago, your fire
might have imprinted itself
in the shrine of my chest
your name
an incantation sworn on my lips
now sealed, perhaps,
by fire and ice
same shudder that runs
through my body whenever
my eyes swirl you
in their vortex
9
and amid your leaving
through the lift doors last night
I do not know if I should
chase after you the wind
howling in my ears, my chest
or leave your shadow
jading me till the fading
10
.The Eleventh Hour.
Our garden Epiphyllum, open at last.
Some garden gnome hiding them away
like biscuits in green fern, unable
to churn out a single bud for months.
Thirteen petalled glories crowded
around my hand. A flower, shy
of attention, hides beneath a leaf
like a girl. I stretch my palm out,
address the white pearl’s nectar buds
nestled against my nose. She smells
of faint perfume, September bloom
where moon cycles have yielded long
nothing.
Dad captures the flowers in his
phone’s camera. We seek the eleventh
hour’s quiet reunion, just watching
white flowers – dad, mom and I
their shoulders flushed by my palms.
Tomorrow, the blossoms will perform
their finale in closing
their eyes for quiet sleep,
as we have once too often
dreamt for something to happen.
11
.Happy Couples.
There is a companion for everyone
on earth, I'd love to believe,
just as there are as many
female birds to every male. God in
His mercy, provided in world's Providence
an abundance of twigs, brambles, and bushes,
so birds may make their nests
over springs and summers.
He gave us mankind an abundance
of sand and cement and hard materials,
so we may build houses with our spouses.
And whenever a picture of happy couples
capture my rapture, the husband basking
in wife's companionship, I assign
one more sparrow to another, mentally,
12
for the one I gave my heart to
was too fickle, perhaps, to build
a house with me based on her heartbeat.
13
.Mistakes.
Allow mistakes to happen. The subtle brush
of your hand against hers, walk
united by the stars. The winds
coax breath into you so much you
have to put out a hand to catch her
waist. It fits snugly in your palm, the
perfect slimness. And closer you walk, and closer;
step to step and toe to toe. You need not look
where her feet are planting themselves,
twinkling in tandem with your eyes, hand,
heart beating beside Marina Bayfront
where two stars collide & burst in shower
at undesignated hour, like a prophecy.
14
15
.Li Ting.
Routines scheduled comfort:
you hide in them, spinning, spinning
your way to vertigo. I’ve always dreamt
you, a lost child, mother dragging you
by hand to sign up for ballet classes.
Your schedule, hardly an empty day:
the mirror’s shrined image of yourself,
performing Salsa Shines to self. The child-elf
retains her grin on your high cheekbone,
high ponytailed you, exotic looks.
I love how you bundle up tresses
before a dance, coil it in buns
so hitting me or others was
not an option.
I love your tight mini dresses
that elaborate your slender thighs in pirouettes,
spins so carefully learnt
they whip you into another world.
And being a man means
I’d hardly need to sigh
to mirrors.
Being a gentleman means giving
you that false embrace after a dance
then waltz away the same
way I made my subtle
entrance into your life.
Being a woman means
16
you can give away the mirror
and hold still your perfect
poise in my eyes’ reflections.
Routines, our shared comfort, now:
so much I write in it, and you
twirl in it, and live each whirl
of day blaming myself
for enshrining you in my eyes.
17
.Beyond the Window.
Close by, the rain’s wafts of pines and needles.
Your skin, smell of fresh jasmine
as if you’d stepped out of shower.
Trees lent you their leaves to
cloak yourself, falling to my
arms – sky’s ancient grey weather,
color of our hair if you
would yield rubies of your heart
into my careful palms
clasped
to receive yours.
18
Your dark irises, twin raindrops twined
in perfect prism, worlds frozen,
chlorophylled in two crystal globes
I will not peer into, for fear
of finding Truth there: that I
were just a storm
blown by to satiate
my presumption of your needs.
So read me.
19
.Jasmine.
Life, the giving up of one
thing for another, an off-scale
of opportunities. Your arm
thrown out for balance in Salsa,
catch yourself off-count. How I’d
love to swirl your slender body
into a spin, whirl you past vertigo
and the blur-streak-winds of worlds;
cascade you into my arms. Here,
the perfect shelter should you feel
tired. Expired from dance, you
would want a safe harbor other
than the studio’s soft sofa,
its many glitzy lights and wild noise
waning your interest in boys.
I confess my crush for all things
soft and subtle, you holding poise
swift as light, elegant as Whirlwind Kansas.
Here, my dance membership, drawing an end.
I will leave on the winds of opportunity
earlier mentioned, a job stretching
beyond the evening, an off-scale
balance of time: my heart tripping on its
two left feet without your beat around,
the dance floor of life devoid of meaning.
20
21
.In All Respects of You (Sonnet).
To feel the night with you, so gently passing.
To take strands of your hair, and weave a braid
into place. To have you so tired, head
lain upon my shoulder, hand canvassing
my dead hand. To have started fires within
your eyes, and mine, and watched a battleship
sunk by the nudge of your small fingertip.
To steal a closed-eyed kiss, and not feel sin
crimsoning up the cold hulls of my cheeks. To travel with you dream-lengths of the ocean
just letting your gaze pulsate my motion –
I’ve held the globe by just exploring creeks
of your curvature; ceased at the dams
of lips. No: it’s not time yet, to steal the gems.
22
23
.Fetish.
It's a disaster to fall
in love again, the head
over heels of my heartbeat
tripping up before my feet
and hardening of places
too bewildering for faces.
I elicit a side
long glance at you, long
black hair curtaining your
soft gaze, the sunsets of
China rubying your
coy
complexion
and rising out of reverie
amid short gasps of
a fetish,
I may only stare after
your departing back,
and relish
a longing ache
to take
strands of your black hair
and stroke them
like a black cat in
the coffin
bed of my arm.
24
25
.Eric Mwathi.
26
.An Quarrelling Couple.
I
We angrily had stashed our bags away,
Below the seat. The airplane drifted off,
To lift us from that awful holiday;
Filled with great fights, that made bystanders scoff.
We’d feared our love was not likely to last,
Due to the hostile words that we’d exchanged,
Of wrong things done, within the distant past,
That nearly made us two become estranged,
Before I’d said, things had not been like this,
Before the fights that rose out of the blue.
And those are times that I shall badly miss,
Before the time this mutual tension grew,
Alas, I must try to forget the time,
That both of us had been able to rime.
27
28
II
When I had come, it was to watch the sea,
And to inhale that pungent water-breeze,
That tucked you off to sleep, beside of me,
Below the shade of tall wuthering trees,
Then you said, that you came to climb the hills,
To watch the world, above some tall, slim, peak,
To search the movement. You could not stay still,
For its excitement that you come to seek.
Then we both came up with the compromise,
That we’d both rest, before we’d go to climb.
By striking deals we thought, we had been wise,
But then, we two, had quarrelled half the time,
It just took one thought to provoke a smirk,
Of flying back home where I could do some work.
29
30
III
It’s terrible to know, that each two seconds,
You spend is wasted, slouching by your spouse,
In which you hear that booming voice, that beckons,
To know the time, or to retrieve her blouse.
I’m quite aware my spouse does not mean evil,
But only hopes that I could meet the needs,
You have to, when you both are married people,
Who show affection, through your helpful deeds,
But it would, sometimes, help to have the freedom,
In which to spend time to attend to mine,
And not act, like I’m just part of that fiefdom;
Employed to fetch her coat and pour her wine,
But do what also brings me joy as well,
So, holidays are not a living hell.
31
32
IV
We drove back, as the car was in a jam,
Amongst the countless vehicles on the road,
After some Ford collided with a tram,
That had become a crumpled, heavy, load.
My spouse said, if I’d quickly left that bed,
Then we’d have made it through that road quite soon,
As comments, like those, caused me to see red,
As moody sunsets turn in time of noon,
Crying that I’m tired to shoulder all the blame,
For things that happen, on that dismal trip.
To make her sad, had never been the aim.
So, she could leave the car, or get a grip.
We did not speak again, for that whole ride.
Our lips were frozen shut, with fear and pride.
33
34
V
To stop the fights, I thought to grab this book,
That had been deeply stashed within my bag.
It made me proud of that time, that I took,
The page-turner, in case that spouse might nag.
Then she had moaned that she would rather talk,
And would read if the text didn’t make her blur.
As her gaze looked, as those within a hawk,
That patiently wait for its prey to stir,
When asking what she’d like to speak about,
She said, sometimes I treat her, like she’s air.
Which had been true, and said there was no doubt,
If tension stays more than we two could bare,
We must consider walking separate ways,
If this hatred, between both of us stays.
35
36
VI
She’d newly seen that I had grown a poach,
From all that extra junk food that I ate,
And joked about it with her fitness coach,
Whose health was built in quite the perfect state,
And when I told the spouse on how I felt,
About her gossiping behind my back,
On times I had to buy a bigger belt,
So, strangers won’t comment about my crack,
The spouse had felt, she too, had to admit,
That gossiping about me was quite mean,
But stressed it was quite vital to stay fit,
So that I look good when I shall be seen.
So both of us agreed, it would be best,
To put that brand-new diet to the test.
37
38
39
VII
And then, at noon, the room had grown quite hot,
And thought it best if I switched on the fan,
Before the spouse suggested that I’d not,
Hoping the indoor heat, gave her a tan.
Not only did I claim, that was not true,
But that she could tan if she stepped outside,
Whereas, there were few places, I’d go to,
Where there’s a breeze, that could refresh my mind,
Then she had claimed it had not been that warm,
And not to dramatize things all the time,
Saying, that I’d call a bit of rain a storm,
And showed me how I’d moan, using her mime,
And on she mimicked, just how I’d complain,
About small things that cause me great disdain.
40
41
VIII
After one major fight we knew it’s time,
To beg the couple’s counsellor to save,
Our broken bond, within all of the slime,
We dragged it through, from how we’d both behave,
When we tried to enjoy a peaceful day,
We compromised on what, we didn’t agree,
As we tried to avoid each other’s way,
When there was tension with the spouse and me,
But those attempts did not yield much result,
Before asking the shrink what we’re to do,
To give this broken love the little jolt,
To yield the joy that’s been long overdue,
Both her and I sought to schedule a date,
To see that shrink, and swore to not be late.
42
43
IX
One ball game was to be aired on TV,
I knew that I simply could not, but watch,
But when the spouse heard what I planned to see,
That brow of hers darted up by one notch,
As she said she would much rather go out,
In some place where she could show off her dress,
She could not help, but always talk about,
Until that garment caused me great distress,
But I said, I could not afford to miss,
To watch a moment as rare as this was,
And granted this small life a lot of bliss,
With all shortcomings, that it had, and flaws.
This time the spouse chose not to start a fight,
As I wanted to watch that game tonight.
44
45
X
I wrote her to say it’s best we two part,
And asked to not make this bleak time more hard.
To not watch her suffer a broken heart,
It seemed much better to leave her this card.
I’d swore to always love her, but things change.
Long friendships end. Love couples part in hate.
The ones you love the most often turn strange.
Some part in death. I figured, why the wait?
Our love is over. It was never here.
Or else I would not write this hurtful song,
That must confirm my long expected fear,
That ate me up, inside, for much too long.
It’s sad I could not take much better care,
Of this relationship, I could not spare.
46
47
Debbie J. Embrey.
48
Said One Heart to the Other
It isn't easy to turn away
My heart belongs here,
I can't believe you don't love me
I turn my head
So you can't see my tear.
49
I carry this terrible burden
I guess now for life,
For without you by my side
It pains me
And brings me e'er so much strife.
I know I can't prove to you
How I feel inside,
But my heart aches for you
It is pounding
I feel as if I had died.
If I can't hold you close to me
I'd rather run away,
For I would rather see death
50
Than be alone
On Valentine's Day.
Love Me, Love Me Not.
I think I know what love is
My question is, 'Do you?'
Pains shouldn't stab someone
That's when love is through.
So either you love me right
Or you don't love me at all,
I'm tired of the agonies
While you're out having a ball.
Love me or love me not
It's just simple as that,
Either you love me or you don't
51
Tell me where we stand at.
Write me a letter, okay
If you can't say the words,
But the pain you put me through
Now that's just for the birds.
52
Why Me?
I've shed so many tears over him
Alas, my heart won't take no more,
I'm left with nothing ~ no one
It's nothing like it was before.
The pains I suffered out of love
53
Just how much can a woman take,
You left me facing ~ life~ death
Your expressed love for me was fake.
I can tell the difference between us
The deepest of the heart is true,
I'm the one that really felt it
That kind of love didn't come from you.
Why did you choose me over others
Did you even know about love?
Did you enjoy my suffering
You're the man that I had dreamed of.
Why me?
My heart just flew...
54
Why me?
I only loved you.
55
.The Spirit of It All.
I fly towards the highest star
Yet I reach a mountain of love,
My heart soars and I feel free
As my soul wanders above.
I fly toward the fluffiest cloud
And it's your face that I see,
My heart beats so very fast
56
You're really special to me.
I fly towards the cheesy moon
And I pass by you in space,
And all the while that I'm there
I'm dreaming as I vision your face.
I fly towards the skies so blue
And my heart fills with delight,
Just knowing you're here with me
Makes everything in life so right.
57
.A Gentle Love.
So gentle and inviting
I look into your eyes
58
I'm lost in your world
Yet there's no place I'd rather be.
So serene and welcoming
I gaze deeper inside
There is something there
It brightens my inner soul.
So loving and liberal
I ponder your desires
I'm lost in your world
For there's no place I'd rather be.
59
.White Roses.
The beauty of the white rose
encases me.
I watch its petals gently fall
to the ground.
The sun's light brings out the
beauty of the rose.
60
White roses meant for friendship
but I caress with love.
.The Strumming.
I sat in my room for what seems like a century
It's been so long, and yet I still let her get to me,
Jealousy isn't getting me anywhere in my life
I need to get out now and continue to act as a wife.
61
It's time I stood up and stopped acting as a child
Even if that woman has been driving me so wild,
Green eyes riveted in a very close ricochet
It seemed to me she did everything to get in our way.
Then one night when the moon was full up above
I heard a soft rhythm of music filled with so much love,
The light strumming of guitar just out my window below
Gave me the serenity that set my heart all aglow.
62
.12 White Roses.
Over the years I've grown to know
Of the passion you have for the rose,
Remember when I bought a bouquet
Seven to be exact, one for every day.
Every day of the week to show my love
To exclaim you're my angel from above,
One bouquet was yellow, you see
The other blue, as without you I'd be.
63
Still a time red roses in a bouquet of 24
One for every hour in a day, yet so much more,
Now I want to take this opportunity
To exclaim once again what you mean to me.
Here I stand with a bouquet that's white
Twelve roses as I look into your eyes tonight,
Please, My Love, shed me not a single tear
There one white rose for each month of the year.
64
.Love is a Four-Letter Word.
Lasting friendships and eternal amour
Open hearts with unlock doors
Vast gush of energy and emotion
Evermore thinking of you; evermore.
65
.I'd Rather Be Alone.
To be awakened by an 'I love you'
that is meant for another woman
To be seen by person that claims
the depth of love cannot fail,
To be noticed once in awhile
when my hair is set differently
66
To other islands would be nice
should I ever decide I want to sail.
Whichever is better doesn't really
matter, or does it now
The ones that are good for me never
happen anymore anyway,
I'd rather be alone all my life
while still in this world
I'd prefer scrutiny over destiny
just to get away.
To be acknowledged in a community
as someone once known as a friend
To be understood just once more
67
with my pillow remaining dry,
Either would be nice if possible
..yeah, right, like it'll happen
It's like all at once my dreams in life
had gathered together just to die.
Author Notes
68
.Contributor’s Profiles.
69
Dan Snow (Also known as Dan Tan)
Dan Snow comes Singapore and had discovered his love for poetry, when writing
them to his crush, who has never seen them to this day. To perfect his writing style
he had joined many writer’s workshops, before, during and after his years, of his
studies at the Tamasek Polytechnic, in Singapore. Dan Snow had later become a
member of the Zeitgeist Movement, and has published his individual poems twice
and has even published an article. In order to see more of his work, you can visit
his website, which is
http://www.pristineblueskies.tumblr.com
70
Eric Mwathi
Eric Mwathi’s fiction and poetry has been published under Shot Glass Journal, Tongue
Mag Magworth's Literary Magazine, AllPoetry.com. Bard’s Magazine, Garbaj literary
magazine, and Stactes Greek literary Magazine is shortlisted and considered for the
World City Stories Prize and contributed to Shannon Norman’s Natural Reflections (A
Collection of Poems). Before editing this poetry journal he had also started the
Everyman’s Poetry Journal. See more of his work at his website :
http://ericmwathispoetry.webs.com/.
71
Debbie J. Embrey
Debbie J. Embrey is a mother of three children, a stepdaughter and several
grandchildren. She has been writing poetry, since age 19, which had been the very
day that her youngest child was born.
Like so many others she has overcome a lot of problems, which was partly thanks
to her writing poetry.
Especially, during those times, her motto has been that “If we stand strong, against
the salvaging winds and waves, we can overcome.”
Debbie J. Embrey has published poetry widely which has each left her with an
'Editor's Choice Award' certificates and finds it an honour to have published more
than one poem, for the first time in her life, in this poetry anthology, for which she
gives God the glory, for making her a gifted poet.
72
John Chamberlain
John Chamberlain is from England, but sees himself as a European Illustrator-
Artist, with a lifestyle of museum trips, bulk-buys of drawing inks, nib pens and
Chinese brushes. After graduating from the Edinburgh College of Art as well as the
Leeds College of Art, he now works as a self-employed Artist and Illustrator, who
usually works on a paid basis, but has kindly offered drawings of his to be placed in
the first issue of this magazine for free. John Chamberlain, not only has had art
exhibitions in the past, but his work can be viewed in the following pages, in which
his contacts are also placed, if you would like to hire him to collaborate with you in
some project.
List of John Chamberlain’s websites:
http://cargocollective.com/johnchamberla...
http://www.johnchamberlainishere.com
http://www.oneandother.com
https://www.facebook.com/officialbeatthe...
https://www.facebook.com/pages/John-Cham