Midnight Songs

The song that thralls the night

with stings and courage, flows

over my thought with moan and rumbles.

I sat to listen to the sonorous voices

of the midnight children

ravish the air with their unnameable songs

singing from ‘tin-ni-ni-ta-na-na’

to ‘biko-Obi-lota-‘, making me look more awry

as the birds glide above the skies.

They sing these songs with one light-voice

crippling my legs with a bounteous dance

‘Ah!’ I wanted to dance, but this could be the song

of the evil children, I mean the midnight ones-

Are they singing to return again and again?

‘I want them to know that their devilments have come to a finis’

They are still singing:

‘Tin-ni-ni-ta-na-na, biko Obi lota’

aha! The Obi could be with that deserted woman

in the gutters of shame? Ah! Thrice, Obi came

and thickly, he went in bold-three.

I grossly weep for the hut in which

he has been returning to, and unmistakably wish that he

comes there no more.

Ah! Their songs still the night and make the morning

birds glide into the tunnels of death

under the straits of an undeniable sources of death-row

they sing away the beauties of motherhood-

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tri tran
   

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Cassie
         

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A Dream is Like a Leaf (reflections on a lucid dream)

A dream is like a leaf falling through the air. I have had good dreams and some have been fair. I peer through glass in all my dreams, and sometimes have this feeling that it's not as it seems.

 

I’ve had tropical dreams where I am on a beach, mesmerized by the beauty that’s all within reach. I hear the melodious tune of the waves as they splash, and know that this sound can be bought with no cash. Graceful waterfalls and thriving trees, fill the landscape 360 degrees. The sunlight reflects off the pristine ocean, just like it does off a mirror in motion.

 

Tropical birds give this island a unique touch, making all other islands not seem like much. The song of the birds is harmony on its own, but the gentle waterfall contributes to the environments tone. The breeze blows by ever so slight, and the heat escapes my body without even a fight. I inhale all this beauty and I become sad, because I know it's a dream and this paradise can't be had. I look to the blue sky and smile at my creation, and take another moment to enjoy this salvation.

 

There is an indicator of reality in all of my dreams, sometimes a tree avoiding the suns beams. The tree tries to stay unspotted like a thief, with small little branches sponsoring a single leaf. The leaf falls from the tree flowing through the air, and uses the wind as if they were a pair. The travel of the leaf is free and strong. This is the part of my dream when I feel something is wrong. Because a dream is like a leaf when falling to the ground, it will move freely but stop without sound.

 

I take one last look at my surroundings and nod, in realization that it's too perfect and that is just odd. A single leaf is seen stranded in the sand, motionless, signifying that there will be no more and.  Over the ocean the dark clouds begin to group, reality invades my mind like a military troop. And there I lay in bed with the night's sky in sight, because a dream is like a leaf and not like a kite.

As I skipped

Across a group of

Alligators I noticed they were eating

Apples

And

Avocados.

Adventurously I

Attacked the

Angry

Alligators. One of them

Almost bit my

Arm off. Luckily I had my

Armor on.

At the end of the scuffle

A lot of the

Alligators had lost

And I was

Arrested for

Assault  of

Alligators. My

Attorney told me to plead insanity and I was

Acquitted.

THIS GUY DOESN'T KNOW WHAT HE'S DOING

This guy doesn't know what he's doing

I smugly thought

No rhyme, no meter

Where was he taught?

Fax machines

Aren't poetic

His love lines

Are so bathetic.

Nothing clever

No theme or hook

Has he ever

Read a book?

Why do they clap so?

Could it be

They just don't know

This guy doesn't know what he's doing?

-A memory is a picture we haven't played yet

Her pretty face starts to fade away

Maybe from the loss of sleep or the drug games she plays

Trying to earn a smile that forms on it’s own

But all that created a laugh seems to have left, or flown

Luck all seemed bad so forward she went, searching for the end

Nothing or nobody to fight for, only herself she is trying to defend

She feels she has found herself in no place at all

Feeling blinded by life, cause it’s acting like a heavy snowfall

Impossible to see past anything, just to wonder and into the space she would stare

Afraid to take a step, already knowing that it’s not going to be safe there

Only knowing to hide behind someone, feeling secure

Running out of people to stand behind, needing a new cure

For the first time she is failing because she’s alone

Lying to everyone and herself, thinking she can do it on her own

Getting separated, building a wall, closing her mind shutting the world out

Why is it that, when she tries, the only belief she gets is doubt

Realizing there’s no-one to call

The end catches up, it returns, the ground comes closer as she comes to a fall

This Lens

Out of its embrace fall words you wished you said,

The heaven’s a gaze places freedom in your hands

Perched with wrinkled feet placed upon an old park bench

Draw a colder night before you, onward looks beyond the mend.

A shallow grave uncovers mysteries to be held,

The bottomless uncertainty grows faintness in detail.

Watch, look, and listen, you may be called unto your master,

A token awaits, hearts racing ever faster.

Out like the dust in like the wind,

 A 911 soldier, an Iraqi gentlemen.

Lovers, stopping staring, molding, just to leave their past behind,

Looking back at what they shattered, for the chasing of their mind.

Chaos, victories, wars, and couples who’ve grown old

A broken mind in your memory bank, to tarots cards foretold.

Young starlets paid for dumbness in this all American dream,

But valued are things in secret, done without applause or high lit beams.

Looking backwards, and ahead, not having known the moment

Living like your dying, striking out at your opponents.

Life that which this is, from my lens, and sad it’s so,

And yet, I see the good and in one breath, let it all go.

Columbus, Rosa, Armstrong mark the path to which I take,

Planted with desires, had a vision, owned the stake.

All but were the leaders of my mind, the things to which I sow,

And in the shroud of Turin, proves the things to which I know.

The stones I cast upon the shore begin a peaceful drift into my soul,

I am, I was, I will become, as an angel in this fold.

Mr. Sandman placed the magic, and pegged this stance that I now lead,

As I swam across a violent ocean, with sharks beneath my feet.

Out came the sun, and my walk has followed by the rain

Crossed the finish line untouched, my treasure still awaits.

CRIMSON AND SEA

by Nicole M. Keenan

I felt refreshed, I felt dead

I felt like ashes that had just been created by an apocalyptic explosion

I close my eyes again

And still see the crimson and sea flashing to the Earth

To destroy the breath of life

I do no want to be near this window

Enclosed in a small room, my golden cage

So I walk along the dirt road of my mind

To a better place

Lit blue by the moon and the fish in my lake

Glowing in rosy shades

Dipping my feet in, chasing the fireflies,

And listening to the crickets’ song

I can actually taste the breath of life again

IN OTHER WORLDS

Crislaine Nolte

In other worlds, unlike my own

A gap is hung between some things,

Related strife’s that beings face

I am unknown yet not alone,

Regardless distance place

In other worlds, I am despised,

For conflicts brew unwanted scenes,

Where men might crave me beaten down

If I believe and say to them,

“Please treat all women as if queens”,

In other worlds, one pigment stands,

No room is there for colored parts

And people’s eyes get filled with hate

When sound my voice to simply say,

“I look upon no skin at all, but only at the heart”

In other worlds, I’m deeply loved

For nothing changes, we’re the same,

For we’re all born with innocence

And given first, our names

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Istanbul

 

The dock birds

pull me to the sea

like I am pulled to suffering,

to Istanbul, that wrings sorrows

that fall on me.

Solitude without you.

In this obscure city,

my blood clotting,

I am snowed under with dreams.

The wide streets accentuate your absence.

Istanbul takes me from city to city.

This great place is well-versed

in my suffering,

the dock birds pull me

to their tired nights

and Istanbul searches

top to bottom.

Solitude without you.