Stay with Me

Stay with me, till I open my eyes

For the rest of the entire world

Without grieves inside of my

Heart and tears by my eyes

 

So many women tired to please

Me but your kindness taught me

To be loyal to you even though

I am walking alone under the rain  

 

Awake in the hotel room alone

Even the wine doesn't taste good

Craving the touch of yours truly

Missing your lips and your kisses

 

Stay with me, till I close my eyes

And dig my own grave with no regrets  

With no tomb or anything but

I want you to know that I miss you

 

©  Ahmad Al-Khatat, Canada

 

Ahmad Al-Khatat was born in Baghdad on May 8th. From Iraq, he came to Canada at the age of 10, the same age when he wrote his very first poem back in the year 2000. He also has been published in several press publications and anthologies all over the world and currently studies Political Sciences, at the Concordia University in Montreal. He has recently published his first chapbook “The Bleeding Heart Poet” with Alien Buddha Press. It is available for sale on Amazon. Most of his new and old poems are also available on his official page Bleeding Heart Poet on Facebook

 

Amana Memories

She reads in midnight whispers
to my now calmed infant sister
mesmerized by mother’s voice.

Seated in the kitchen, silhouetted
in the glow of an open oven door
reflected in her face, as she scoots

over slightly, invites me to hop up,
huddle in closest to the heat. I
listen to her story accompanied by

milk bubbled gulps, rubber nipple
noises, sissy’s slowing grunts and
sighs as tired tiny eyes fall asleep.

Mom tilts the book for me to look,
follow her finger under lines of
words I am far too young to read.

From picture-less pages characters
emerge, each given unique speech,
scenes seen in a two-year-old mind.

With magical skill mom interprets
printed words to adventure worlds
beyond my world safe by her side.

I begin to imagine how someday
I’ll read books myself from library
shelves, recite by rote written notes,

translate letters to sounds to words,
skillfully decipher black and white,
amaze audiences awed at my art

of perfectly pronouncing six syllable
words, barely heard, as crowds cheer,
rise to their feet and call out my name.

I awaken to the morning light never
remembering how I got to my bed
or when her story became my dream.

 

© Carl 'Papa' Palmer, United States

 

Carl "Papa" Palmer of University Place, WA is retired military, retired FAA, now just plain retired without wristwatch, cell phone, alarm clock or Facebook friend. Carl is a Hospice volunteer and president of The Tacoma Writers Club.

 

You can ask the pebble

Picking up a pebble
from the seashore 
when I return homeward, 
I feel immense pain 
on my palm to throw 
it out into a bin. So 
I carry it homeward.

I do so 
for I invest my precious 
absent mindedness, 
gentle touch 
and spending time with it.

You may ask the pebble 
It will tell you the fable.

 

© Partha Chatterjee

 

 

            Partha Chatterjee lives in India with his family. Born in 1986 he graduated from Burdwan University. He loves music and poetry.

 

MY THIRD POEM FOR LYDIA

 

not based

on

 

the first touch of

the

handshake

 

the door

it is opened for you

 

a Chagall joke

 

based

on

 

my photo alone

 

what do you

discover

when you unlock

a

woman’s heart

 

not me

 

it’s 6:30 am

on the stoop of

my apartment building

 

a pair of

high heels

 

i need a nap in amsterdam

 

© Vincent Zepp, Pennsylvania - United States

 

 

quantized quakes

the frequencies buzzed in spikes
liquefying your tissues,
the bones of your nucleus
hammered by the seizures

of her granite skin.

i tried to touch each cubicle
of my love-struck heart
while standing by the side of
the last station

i saw the fractals crumbling,
and the earth mixing
seamlessly with the ether

over an ominous howl
of the schrödinger’s cat

everyone was half-dead/half-alive.

 

© Sudeep Adhikari, Kathmandu - Nepal

Sudeep Adhikari is a structural engineer/Lecturer from Kathmandu, Nepal.  His recent publications were with Beatnik Cowboys,
Chiron Review, The Ekphrastic Review, Midnight Lane Boutique, Occulum, Silver Birch Press, Eunoia Review, Utt Poetry and Spilling Cocoa over
Martin Amis. Also a Pushcart Prize nominee for the year 2018, Sudeep is currently working on his 4th poetry-book “Hyper-Real Reboots”,
which is scheduled for publication in September 2018 through Weasel Press, Texas, USA.