Category: Free Verse

Should I name him? 

I could not know his name, 

It did kindly know for me, 

Veracity, agony and whim. 

Yet not an objective truth to know of. 

In the cold reality of the thereof 

Only, the lost words of the sons 

And the echoing woes of transgressions 

For he had the privilege of surviving 

For he could roam the eastern plains 

For he could drink from the sea of salt 

For he was carried by lyricism 

For he had undeterred pride 

Dutifully doing his penance 

Paying his condolence 

To the dying world 

Dirt, dusk and mold 

There he lived, the nameless man 

In last days, before the plains of heavens 

He gazed at the thrones of stone 

Breathe of Ozymandias 

At the rivers of flesh and blood 

Sensuality of Thanatos 

And, he heeded to the silence 

Gaea had a finger to her lips 

On the godly hand, earth came 

Shaped, be it for love or pain 

If fair, to the heavens all praise 

If foul, to the hells alone the blame 

And what man deemed himself not divine 

And what man did not dream of wine 

Gods gave a secret he could not spell 

The world had no more, he kept it hidden well 

Nameless, he climbed the groove of Sisyphus 

Sloshing in the ponds of the sweat of his limbs 

Faceless, he toppled with the boulder 

From the crest of the mountain to Lethe 

Rose pedals atop red raspberries 

A gift, I knew, consumed me 

I gave it freely 

Nectar nurtured you and healed me 

Now intruders have ordered to sever the tie 

Which held me together for two years 

Leaving a vacuum in my heart 

And streams of tears down your velvet cheeks 

They made me perform atrocities 

Like spreading a fine dusting of pepper 

To deter your craving 

And forced me to feed you lies instead of 

Pure milk 

“The raspberries are sick. They’ll hurt you.” 

But all that hurt was me rejecting you 

And your rose pedals pulled apart so 

Unnaturally 

What atrocities! 

I lie here in this cocoon of pain 

Wrapped in a blanket to secure in the warmth 

that’s left me 

Currents, torrents, floods escape from 

Every crevice but my breasts 

which long to comfort you 

to comfort me, to heal me and make me 

whole again 

I lost myself in the nurturing from my flesh 

What Earthly thing could ever replace that? 

And still you cry, kiss, caress and beg for two to nini 

To meet divine rest 

With a mouth full of warmth from berries 

But a man-made thing called time severed that tie 

Called instinct and longing 

I leave you to rest with obnoxious videos on YouTube 

A cheap substitute for heavenly nectar 

Sometimes the pull is too great 

and you suck me back from the void 

With traces of pepper still on your lips 

We relapse when roses and raspberries meet

Have you shaken your unwarranted lips onto the mister? 

Shame on your shamelessness! 

No reward for your unwarranted leap 

until confessing your deeds
Now having prostrated my vanity, 

the latter have added to my constraint into you
Nor have you imagined my sorrow 

when acknowledging such impurity 

while vaunting you among people for being the best
One eye mistaking the perfect judgement at one 

the other eye would bite it at two
Beach were you, bitch you have become.
Loss on you, and loss for your prey
Poor on me, but now poor on you! 

Here love erupts from a blue void,
resolved to form its own island. 

Locals sing of island love, words and harmonies
dying in the winds, which makes them laugh. 

Love on a tropical island takes root
in a day and thrives like madness.
It can wither in a week. 

Island love shifts slow as a sandy beach
because here there is no time. 

When love wounds us, the saltwater cleanses,
and tides offer up new love. 

There is only one love for each person on an island,
and those who find it are lucky. 

Love can drift for thousands of miles,
take root and grow in coral rubble. 

Some days, island love needs to rest in the shade and do nothing. 

Island love is nocturnal. It steps out boldly
when hens stop clucking and roosters stop crowing. 

On an island everyone knows who you will love before you do.
And they know who you should never love. 

No matter how happy you are, outer islands
on the horizon promise infinite love and loneliness.

 

Transient, beautiful   

well-designed but not built to last   

once gone, you cannot return  

angular like the A—frame houses   

formed from acute geometric crystals   

visitations only occur in haunted dreams   

stunning architecturally but lacking internal warmth   

once you’ve gotten used to the sight, it melts in your hand   

I am never in one place for more than two years  

Like the Jews wandering in the desert   

How long will God be angry?   

I hope it doesn’t take 40 years   

to reach the promised land  

By Monica Festa 

 

Stand still dear child,
And listen to the forest that breathed life into your ancestors’ lungs.
Stand still,
And admire the fury of the sea that has nurtured life and taken it all the same.
Stand still,
And feel the rumbling of the mountains,
As a sense of awakening gently simmers within.
You’ve burned down my trees, poisoned my soils and polluted my skies.
Taken advantage of me like no other being.
So know my nature is not of mercy.
When dawn is near and the stillness of the night is disrupted by the seeping sun,
my oceans will leave you on your knees,
And my mountains will give you just enough time to repent,
Just before my forests breathe back the breath you once borrowed.
My clouds will not weep for you,
They will announce their victory in thunder. 

 

See the sea and sing the song 
Feel the pump and exit the bad 
Bite on your tongue to suffer 
Does it merit to suffer? 
One life is to suffer, yet another is to enjoy 
Didn’t you have the right to suffer, you will end up sole 
Have you been authorized too much suffering, there shall be no grace 
Suffer is as voice 
Fluctuate it through lyres 
Patience is what I meant 
So do not step backward 
God is watcher, and indeed to any pain waits a profit 
But money isn’t it, it awaits a spiritual interest 
For Capitalism has brought materialism 

On a shelf, on a desk, on a table 

All the stories he tells are incredible 

Reality, fantasy, police, and poems 

Every phrase in every page as a sum 

Describes its own world and event 

Children playing, adults trading every cent 

Books, carrots, toys, weapons are sold 

The sky is blue, and the ground is mold 

Men are trading and women are wandering 

Life is going great, and all are walking 

Until panic comes and all starts running 

Shops are closing and children are crying 

Women are running and men are preparing 

the defense against the one common enemy 

On a dark horse and a gray armor made of ebony 

The far despites him and the close fears him 

His walk was slow and loud like in a film 

Cliffhanger comes and the book ends 

Next volume’s coming we will wait in bed 

 

Left in the dark with nowhere to go 

Tears down my cheek afraid to show 

A hole in my heart filled with blood 

Footprints behind me stain the mud 

Feeling of emptiness filling me 

I stab myself for you to see 

Drooling from me making a flood  

All my feelings pouring or shoved? 

A late-night talk letting me breath  

Like all along all I did was cheat  

What a curse for my beloved – 

To live with me and be judged 

Leave me to be in this destruction 

All I know is pain and corruption  

Unknown, unwanted, and also unloved  

What a day to be as always shrugged  

 

As life goes on you lose your touch 

Many say you work hard its tough 

You run away but you fall 

In the abyss you see it all 

The lights above and the dark 

On the sides as you bark 

All sorts of words to get help 

Still, nobody came so you melt 

Down in sadness and cry tears 

Your nose is red and so your ears 

The night fell and the moon came 

Look down on you and your pain 

You clean your face and try to climb 

But give up because it is bedtime 

Sleep a bit then wake up 

Stronger and ready to erupt 

Climb the walls and reach the top 

Look back down and then stop 

See your effort and smile at the sky 

See your old life and say goodbye