Take 5ive Issue Two Twenty Twenty One
|
Roberta Beach Jacobson
a bee
buzzes my way and lands on my arm
I fall asleep
and dream of a far-away island
where I wake as a yellow flower
retirement
admitting it is time to return
pebbles
back home to the river bank
where I selfishly removed them
lush meadow
my headquarters
where I sit
writing Japanese short-form
poetry from my heart and soul
our
math teacher mom baked an apple pie
with cinnamon
dear brother gobbled 3.14
leaving me with only 'e'
she falls prey
to his romantic promises
the two teens
meet at the hollow log where
he repeats his empty words
Milan Rajkumar
who knows
inside its dark hide lies
a warm heart
the crow that comes daily
for food in this old hut
migrating birds
from this lone island . . .
someday
their young ones might return
to play with my grandchildren
these flashbacks
youthful days of you and me
is it sin . . .
adventures before wearing
this maroon monk's robe
tonight
with spirited voice
telling fairy tales . . .
grandchildren reminding me
long gone grandfather
spring shower
she washes herself
the invisible scar
a budding camellia
inside a rusty iron fence
Ram Chandran
the whistle
of a distant train
reminds me
the journeys
i have not started
waves
raise beautiful blue walls
and smash it...
like you sow dreams
in me and shatter them
as breeze
caresses long hair,
she
tosses her head
and my heart too
Vicki Miko
girls on the street
one with slippers on her feet
her polka dot bra exposed
her grandma's bra straps safety-pinned
her cleavage nary shows
Alan Peat
a dive
through
the last
light
subliminal
kingfisher
blackened sky
thunder heads
my father’s way -
bedside bone china
shadows
the wind
replies...
among other things
that singers
told me
warm
on my lap
the cat
we just
put to sleep
switching on
forest fires
i am grateful
for rain on this
temperate Island
Giuliana Ravaglia
Mattino
Si smaglia fra le zolle
l'ombra chiara del biancospino
Sul crinale dell'alba
il respiro del creato
nell'ebbrezza dell'abbandono
Morning
It unravels among the clods
the light shade of the hawthorn
On the ridge of dawn
the breath of creation
in the intoxication of abandonment
Sottovoce
Sottovoce
s'adagiava la notte
e sulla terra deserta
saliva - piano -
l'alma dolce della luna
Whisper
Whisper
lay down the night
and on the desert land
saliva - softly -
the sweet alma of the moon
Oltre la soglia
Ancora un verso
oltre la soglia
per un paese di sole
sul crinale affollato
di poesia
Beyond the threshold
One more verse
beyond the threshold
for a sunny country
on the crowded ridge
of poetry
Giostra
Una giostra la vita
ombre e bagliori in dissolvenza
Come terra smarrita
fugaci istanti d' oro reclama
Nel laccio incerto del divenire
Carousel
A carousel life
fading shadows and glows
Like a lost land
fleeting golden moments he claims
In the uncertain snare of becoming
L'oro dei girasoli
In un tempo senza colore
m’invento l’oro dei girasoli
Come onda imbevuta di sole
tratteggio il ritmo incerto
delle mie ore
The gold of sunflowers
In a time without color
I invent the gold of sunflowers
Like a wave soaked in the sun
I hatch the uncertain rhythm
of my hour
Darrell Lindsey
a bobber
on evening water
all these feelings
that may never move
out of their own shadows
candles melting
on the windowsill
my spirit leaps
from a flickering wick
to wide, ecstatic skies
even when paint
began to flake by the day
on daddy's dreams
that little frame house
was framing these memories
something shaking
the glitter within
all the colors
beginning to rain
in the face of the storm
arriving
at practice time
for the choir
nightingales warble
through an open window
Anna Marua Domburg-Sancristoforo
In the big void
of a starless night
the fairytale
of dreams lost
without answers
crazy august
the cold of autumn
already in my bones
I write about sunflowers
not to forget them
in my dreams
the warmth of two hands
I always miss
let me sleep a little longer
till the moon turns white
Anne Curran
evening star
solitary in blanket of darkness
shining bright -
in my tiredness
I remember your love
relatives gather
in numbers at her favorite bay
family reunion -
the ebb and flow
of receding memories
driving home
our eyes trained on the beauty
of passing landscape -
alone with our thoughts
grieving for someone
Nana's pillowslips
on my bed -
resting my head
on her shoulder
as a grandchild again
our phone calls
of an evening
to natter and giggle -
now empty hours
that wobble without you
Minal Sarosh
tsunami
swept on the beach
broken homes
I pick up a girl’s doll
still smiling
dementia
the sound of his voice
I remember
the rushing waves
why not the sea ?
spring waterfall
waves and waves of
the wedding trail
as she picks up her life
walking carefully
rising tides
rushing to the beach
this joy
of reading his
first love letter
trees noisy
with the chirping mynahs
the reunion
meeting after years we are
giggling like girls
Pasquale Asprea
Stars Die
is just the title
of a song
inside the stomach
melancholy
insects land
on mint flowers
for few instants
all my things seem
useless
I would like to leave
and not to retrace
my step
I got wrong
without meaning to
my father loved
sea waves
that keep beating
the time I wasted
away from him
Hassane Zemmouri
daddy's funeral-
spoon after spoon
my cousin feeds me
grief fills my soul
to satiety
sunset-
on the hot sand
children's race
the coming and going of waves
blesses the quiet evening
Marilyn Humbert
the bells
tolling through mist
summons me
a barefoot pilgrim
following sounds of hope
Mum’s voice
wavers on the phone
faint now
my memories of her
strength and resilience
sidewalk café
I pass empty chairs
the barista
practising coffee art
in our new covid world
after her funeral
I find a bundle of letters
locked in a drawer
tied with faded ribbons
Mum and Dad’s war years
how to negotiate
swamps surrounding
the clear stream…
again, I find myself
on the wrong path
Christina Chin
berry picking
on the way home
from school
my mother's
cooking dinner
my pockets
bulging with longans
young siblings
wait for me
to peel
digging along
the forest stream
today the ducks
get two pails
of earthworms
cycling through
the street
with no lights
and no houses
the cemetery hill
a crocodile
snaps a wetlands bird
one more
drops off a flock
flying south
Alvin Cruz
a single white flower
in the grass
I pluck it the way
you pull the strings
of your mandolin
dinner alone
your place at the table
still empty…
I split the chopsticks
perfectly
one stone less
but I reach into
the shepherd’s bag
for the rest of the stones
to face my giant
sandcastle
more than their
crashing force I fear
the gentle invasion
of the waves
a thing heavier than grief
I will carry in memory
as I walk away…
the word “nothing”
written on your grave
Richa Sharma
such was the moonrise
from red to golden
slowly above layers of thin clouds
i climb beyond our thoughts
and you always meet me there
silent lightning
on one side
moonrise on the other
i prefer not to
make a choice
i could write
a thousand poems for you
white moon
but which one
shall be my home forever?
on a barren tree
a wayward sparrow perches . . .
you came into my life
just when i started to measure
life's breadth
Dave Read
he chooses to blame
the pandemic
on us…
I put a mask on
my frustration
we drop the kids off
with their books
and their masks
ready to learn
a new normal
the rain’s metronome
taps a beat
on the window
I reflect on
the passing of time
no notifications
await me on Facebook …
the world
slowly starts
to expand
I put in some time
doing work
on the weekend …
the silence
of carpenter ants
a bee
buzzes my way and lands on my arm
I fall asleep
and dream of a far-away island
where I wake as a yellow flower
retirement
admitting it is time to return
pebbles
back home to the river bank
where I selfishly removed them
lush meadow
my headquarters
where I sit
writing Japanese short-form
poetry from my heart and soul
our
math teacher mom baked an apple pie
with cinnamon
dear brother gobbled 3.14
leaving me with only 'e'
she falls prey
to his romantic promises
the two teens
meet at the hollow log where
he repeats his empty words
Milan Rajkumar
who knows
inside its dark hide lies
a warm heart
the crow that comes daily
for food in this old hut
migrating birds
from this lone island . . .
someday
their young ones might return
to play with my grandchildren
these flashbacks
youthful days of you and me
is it sin . . .
adventures before wearing
this maroon monk's robe
tonight
with spirited voice
telling fairy tales . . .
grandchildren reminding me
long gone grandfather
spring shower
she washes herself
the invisible scar
a budding camellia
inside a rusty iron fence
Ram Chandran
the whistle
of a distant train
reminds me
the journeys
i have not started
waves
raise beautiful blue walls
and smash it...
like you sow dreams
in me and shatter them
as breeze
caresses long hair,
she
tosses her head
and my heart too
Vicki Miko
girls on the street
one with slippers on her feet
her polka dot bra exposed
her grandma's bra straps safety-pinned
her cleavage nary shows
Alan Peat
a dive
through
the last
light
subliminal
kingfisher
blackened sky
thunder heads
my father’s way -
bedside bone china
shadows
the wind
replies...
among other things
that singers
told me
warm
on my lap
the cat
we just
put to sleep
switching on
forest fires
i am grateful
for rain on this
temperate Island
Giuliana Ravaglia
Mattino
Si smaglia fra le zolle
l'ombra chiara del biancospino
Sul crinale dell'alba
il respiro del creato
nell'ebbrezza dell'abbandono
Morning
It unravels among the clods
the light shade of the hawthorn
On the ridge of dawn
the breath of creation
in the intoxication of abandonment
Sottovoce
Sottovoce
s'adagiava la notte
e sulla terra deserta
saliva - piano -
l'alma dolce della luna
Whisper
Whisper
lay down the night
and on the desert land
saliva - softly -
the sweet alma of the moon
Oltre la soglia
Ancora un verso
oltre la soglia
per un paese di sole
sul crinale affollato
di poesia
Beyond the threshold
One more verse
beyond the threshold
for a sunny country
on the crowded ridge
of poetry
Giostra
Una giostra la vita
ombre e bagliori in dissolvenza
Come terra smarrita
fugaci istanti d' oro reclama
Nel laccio incerto del divenire
Carousel
A carousel life
fading shadows and glows
Like a lost land
fleeting golden moments he claims
In the uncertain snare of becoming
L'oro dei girasoli
In un tempo senza colore
m’invento l’oro dei girasoli
Come onda imbevuta di sole
tratteggio il ritmo incerto
delle mie ore
The gold of sunflowers
In a time without color
I invent the gold of sunflowers
Like a wave soaked in the sun
I hatch the uncertain rhythm
of my hour
Darrell Lindsey
a bobber
on evening water
all these feelings
that may never move
out of their own shadows
candles melting
on the windowsill
my spirit leaps
from a flickering wick
to wide, ecstatic skies
even when paint
began to flake by the day
on daddy's dreams
that little frame house
was framing these memories
something shaking
the glitter within
all the colors
beginning to rain
in the face of the storm
arriving
at practice time
for the choir
nightingales warble
through an open window
Anna Marua Domburg-Sancristoforo
In the big void
of a starless night
the fairytale
of dreams lost
without answers
crazy august
the cold of autumn
already in my bones
I write about sunflowers
not to forget them
in my dreams
the warmth of two hands
I always miss
let me sleep a little longer
till the moon turns white
Anne Curran
evening star
solitary in blanket of darkness
shining bright -
in my tiredness
I remember your love
relatives gather
in numbers at her favorite bay
family reunion -
the ebb and flow
of receding memories
driving home
our eyes trained on the beauty
of passing landscape -
alone with our thoughts
grieving for someone
Nana's pillowslips
on my bed -
resting my head
on her shoulder
as a grandchild again
our phone calls
of an evening
to natter and giggle -
now empty hours
that wobble without you
Minal Sarosh
tsunami
swept on the beach
broken homes
I pick up a girl’s doll
still smiling
dementia
the sound of his voice
I remember
the rushing waves
why not the sea ?
spring waterfall
waves and waves of
the wedding trail
as she picks up her life
walking carefully
rising tides
rushing to the beach
this joy
of reading his
first love letter
trees noisy
with the chirping mynahs
the reunion
meeting after years we are
giggling like girls
Pasquale Asprea
Stars Die
is just the title
of a song
inside the stomach
melancholy
insects land
on mint flowers
for few instants
all my things seem
useless
I would like to leave
and not to retrace
my step
I got wrong
without meaning to
my father loved
sea waves
that keep beating
the time I wasted
away from him
Hassane Zemmouri
daddy's funeral-
spoon after spoon
my cousin feeds me
grief fills my soul
to satiety
sunset-
on the hot sand
children's race
the coming and going of waves
blesses the quiet evening
Marilyn Humbert
the bells
tolling through mist
summons me
a barefoot pilgrim
following sounds of hope
Mum’s voice
wavers on the phone
faint now
my memories of her
strength and resilience
sidewalk café
I pass empty chairs
the barista
practising coffee art
in our new covid world
after her funeral
I find a bundle of letters
locked in a drawer
tied with faded ribbons
Mum and Dad’s war years
how to negotiate
swamps surrounding
the clear stream…
again, I find myself
on the wrong path
Christina Chin
berry picking
on the way home
from school
my mother's
cooking dinner
my pockets
bulging with longans
young siblings
wait for me
to peel
digging along
the forest stream
today the ducks
get two pails
of earthworms
cycling through
the street
with no lights
and no houses
the cemetery hill
a crocodile
snaps a wetlands bird
one more
drops off a flock
flying south
Alvin Cruz
a single white flower
in the grass
I pluck it the way
you pull the strings
of your mandolin
dinner alone
your place at the table
still empty…
I split the chopsticks
perfectly
one stone less
but I reach into
the shepherd’s bag
for the rest of the stones
to face my giant
sandcastle
more than their
crashing force I fear
the gentle invasion
of the waves
a thing heavier than grief
I will carry in memory
as I walk away…
the word “nothing”
written on your grave
Richa Sharma
such was the moonrise
from red to golden
slowly above layers of thin clouds
i climb beyond our thoughts
and you always meet me there
silent lightning
on one side
moonrise on the other
i prefer not to
make a choice
i could write
a thousand poems for you
white moon
but which one
shall be my home forever?
on a barren tree
a wayward sparrow perches . . .
you came into my life
just when i started to measure
life's breadth
Dave Read
he chooses to blame
the pandemic
on us…
I put a mask on
my frustration
we drop the kids off
with their books
and their masks
ready to learn
a new normal
the rain’s metronome
taps a beat
on the window
I reflect on
the passing of time
no notifications
await me on Facebook …
the world
slowly starts
to expand
I put in some time
doing work
on the weekend …
the silence
of carpenter ants
