2017
Steven Postans
Disassociative
It feels like a gentle drift…
at first.
Like mist on a breeze.
The pieces must have snapped,
now they’re melting,
melting away.
They drift…
subtle and faint.
I’ll lose this thread.
It’s become so
frayed.
And that’s where I find myself,
caught between the lines,
the lines of life and
what lies behind.
I’ll tear the fabric down,
tear it down with
despair.
Thoughts.
Thoughts of mine.
Once lateral,
once understandable - now they’ve split -
tangential.
My world takes on this…
this translucent glint.
Now I feel like I’ve
split.
These feelings don’t feel
real.
Can I trust the light,
can I trust the Birdsong?
Should I peel away the layers,
the layers between
right and wrong?
Would I find myself there,
would anyone?
Now do I let myself
split,
allow those broken parts
to…drift?
Drift until they’re no longer,
in sight
in sight of each other.
Or do I try,
try to pull the strands back together?
I’m not sure.
I’m so aware,
aware of the world,
flimsy
fragile.
I could press this point,
press this point and
shatter.
Could I…
shatter it all?
Would it even matter…
Steven Postans
Between Dreams
think-
think of me and
I’ll catch you,
I’ll muse on your love and
catch you…
for you are not far.
think –
and I’ll ride the waves as you do,
they caress me with the breath you take,
a flutter of the eyes you make,
a rush of blood through blue veins,
with every beat of your heart.
Steven Postans
32 Degrees and Sunny
I hear you in
‘musts’ and ‘shoulds’,
chipping away -
I wish you wouldn’t stream through
my window,
shhh, I’m taking today
off
from mindless breathing
and beating
(I only wish to be embalmed
by unnatural light).
But still, you’re whispering,
and it’s so…
draining,
shhhhhhhh, I only wish to
exist
by constant singular ticks.
Surely I’ll see tomorrow,
so leave me…
be.
Steven Postans
Hot Stone
I see the sun, it’s fingers wrap around
me,
warming cold corners,
soothing jagged edges…
it’s now time,
time for me,
time for a star kissed dream
time
its shall move at my pace, the pace I
dictate
and I shall meet that which I
make,
and I make what I
wish,
and I alone shall wish it.
My mind;
free
free from that which burdens me
flowing lucidity…
limbs loose and stress free
and if I see it glinting in the dark night,
with all my resolve, I’ll give it wings
I’ll bless it with
flight
and I’ll smile
for I’ll be flying too.
Steven Postans
Sohan Soroya
Earth is Beating
Strange aura around the face
Limb limb is waving
You are a strange girl
As though you have found my secret
You have the key to my heart
You have been flying you are a pink girl
May you fly in the skies
From today we have a partnership of hearts
I will kiss the reminisces of your memory
For ever and ever
Sohan Soroya
Flowers Blossomed
Flowers blossomed
Countenances blossomed
Turbulences tumult
and flux of times
Earthquakes came
And myriad storms blew
But could not change bounty of universe
Or the Penultimate spring of nature
Flowers blossomed
Heat waves came
bleak winters came
Flowers dwindled
Flowers blossomed again
Sohan Soroya
Illuminated Sun
Illuminated sun
Illuminated lamp
Illuminated world
Keep illuminated
Keep illuminated mind
So that Man may not be
Cheated by Illusion in darkness
Sohan Soroya
Luscious Luscious Feel My Songs
Luscious luscious fields
Luscious luscious you feel
My songs keep laughing
In bleak cold weathers
You keep fostering my songs
Luscious luscious feel my
Sohan Soroya
Mother Has Decorated This Flower
Mother has decorated this flower
It is the garden of the world
Beauty is not for nothing
It grows from a mothers heart
That's why it glitters
It is a anodyne
It is hope
Benevolent world of mother
Has grown for this reason
It's rose, it is good character
Good mothers ray
Spreads over the world
It smiles
The painful path begins to smile
Mothers tears
Continue to smile
Because she posses affection
It is hope, it is morning
From mothers seed bed
Which is not grown
From eras
High flyer flight
Mother salutes you the whole universe
The pain you have bourne
To the appreciator
He respects that
Mother sons story
Is the universe story
Which has been written
Mothers book is open
Mothers cradle
Mothers music
Without it, the garden is desolate
From a child's heart beat
Comes the voice of the mother
Listening to this heart beat
Singers sing melodious songs
Sohan Soroya
Some Thoughts are Better
(extreme thoughts may be the problem of man)
Some thoughts are better
Some thoughts are better
Thoughts are high and low
Earth is also high and low
No body is lower or higher than it
It keep revolving and revolving
Thoughts keep flitting in and out of mind
Some fly high -
Have difficulty coming back to earth
Some gravitate to earth too much
And sink into earth
The ones keep rising and can return to earth are better
And are ones of more pure clear energy
Extreme thoughts may be problem of man
Sohan Soroya
Hale and Hearty Thoughts into Action
Hale and hearty thoughts into action
Fresh thoughts woke up
With them the steps lifted
Wind potent clean and fresh blew
Athlete Began to flow like wind
Breaths accelerated
Shrunk Breast opened like bellows
Drank breaths more and more
Like fish drink water and live
Sent energy all around the universe
And energy came back from all corners of of the universe
Waves of peace fell all over the being
Unsettled heart beat became calm and regular
With it mind became balanced too
Became new
Like the rising morning sun
Witnessing world
Ruptured into smiles
Like rising morning smiling rays of sun
Hale hearty thoughts came into action
Sohan Soroya
Many are Starved
Many are starved
Many are sated
Many sated gluttons
Eat unnecessarily
Only to become sick
And fill the beds with pathologies
Sohan Soroya
My Wit Is Staggered Staggered
My wit is staggered staggered
Your walking along with me
You have returned the old songs
You have broken all the occupations
Greenery has come in my life
So that we have partnership
The world is startled, startled
You are absorbed in limb limb
The jingling of your songs
Roses have started to smile
You are the redness of the morning
You are my sympathiser
You are certain pink moon
You are a burning multicoloured flame in full swing
You seem to be intoxicated
But you are rebel against pub
You are that truth
Which is the price of my heart
Sohan Soroya
Symmetry of Flowers
Symmetry of flowers
Arrangement of petals
Presentation of beautiful Nature
Something worth learning
Sohan Soroya
The Heart of Humanity - the Rose
Let somebody come and tell me
Let somebody come and tell me
Does rose ever bite ?
Bad thorns come in the way for nothing
and prick the innocent roses
Beauty of the world
Is the beauteous rose
Release fragrance in the garden
Bounce memories up
Today is a Sun blossomed day
Pure rose is becoming
More pure and more delicate
Eyes are absorbing deep colour
Hearts are becoming rose
On the branches
Roses are having a peaceful ride
beauty of the world
Is the Magnificent rose
The dazzling rose
The heart of humanity -the rose
Sohan Soroya
Sean Tompson
The Beast
When the beast with dirty claws & dirty teeth
Decides to smash into your brain
What do you do?
I mean, what do you do?
Coz it’s intense…
Them greedy eyes scream, “I want to swallow you whole!
Lick & suckle every sense of calmness, every sense of self!
I want you jiggering up & down on that pavement, bitch!!!
Jumping at every voice!
At every strange glance you’re gonna get!”
It has a bloated tongue
& it runs
It runs
It runs 'round your body, massaging every hidden fear
Every hidden pore
A kinky, twisted, fucked-up, unconsented lover
Did you really bring this thing into your bed?
It purrs, “I am the ever-entwining one.
The slimy, cold, black conger eel wrapped 'round you whole
Fused to your skin like a burning tattoo
But just underneath so no one knows
Just me & you
Just me & you
I will drive you deep down
Deep down underwater, son
But don’t worry
You won’t drown"
(Well not just yet...)
It laughs…
"Them fucking religions with their tall hats, big books, big gowns
Talk about Hell & Sin as some existential place in the future where you're gonna burn
Let me tell you boy
You carry the damn thing in you
& tonight
Tonight, you're gonna burn…"
SEAN THOMPSON
Saghir Ulhaq
It’s a Bee’s Life…
It’s a bee’s life…
Living in a hive
Buzzing insects
Two pairs of see-through wings
Each has a job to do
Queen bee is in charge
Workers and drones together
Honeybees looking for flowers
Drinking sugary nectar
With a long lune- like tongue
They collect pollen, too
Carry it from one flower to another
Fertilise them
Loaded up they go home
On the way they dance to talk
Perform the ‘waggle dance’
Worker bees chew the nectar and pollen
Make it into honey
Bees eat some
And beekeeper collect the rest
Put it into jar to sell
In the morning I awake
I go downstairs
Switch on my Kenwood Kettle
Make a hot mug of Tetley tea
When the toast is ready
I sit at the table
With my family
Spread Gale’s honey on my bread
The toast with strong, sweet tea
Has a crunchy, syrupy, yummy honey taste
Saghir Ulhaq
The Ultimate Rose
My beloved wife, I can give you from my garden,
The rose you desire.
Is it ‘Albertine’?
Is it ‘Bobbie James’?
-The cupped, white is sweetly scented.
Is the yellow ‘Bright Smile’?
Or ‘Elizabeth of Glamis’,
‘Evelyn Fison’, which does not fade in the hottest sun?
‘Iceberg’, another white@
Is it ‘Sheila’s Perfume’, or ‘Strawberry Ice’?
-The one different to ignore,
Or can I say ‘Tango’, which deserves a place in the garden.
Only for you-
I will clip these roses, especially for you.
Saghir Ulhaq
Courage
I wish for a brave heart,
But where do I start?
I wish I was a lion:
In the midst of the natural world I would roar:
A lion that is the courageous king of the jungle;
A lion with physical powerful paws,
The lion that protects its siblings
And train its cubs to take part in a terrifying world.
I can be as metallic as the tin man,
Or be a scarecrow dressed in old clothes,
Set up to scare away the birds from the crops.
Yet, I can change into a strong person for better
I want to be louder than the lion
More metallic than the tin man
And scary than the scarecrow
My fate is to recapture my genius spirit.
Everyone sometimes lacks courage;
I am frightened and I am trembling now.
Through I may stumble and fall
I am sure one day I will hear my heart call.
Saghir Ulhaq
My wife and I in the Caribbean
You and me in the Caribbean
Sunbathing on the white sand beaches
Sun, sea a chance of a lifetime
The heat makes us sweat
The warm breeze blows
The palm-shades
As we watch the waves – holding hands
Drinking coconut milk with a straw
Then we go to rest in our Caribbean-style cottage
With verandas overlooking tropical gardens
Where a Caribbean restaurant is nearby
In the evening we watch the sunset melt away into the night
We listen to the sound of crickets chirping
Both of us wake up feeling refreshed
We see yellow-breasted banana quits
Picking from our sugar bowl
For breakfast we enjoy delicious fresh fruit: mangos, and watermelons.
Then we step into the turquoise-blue sea
When we pass by flamboyant trees
Covered with dazzling, red flowers
We see local people dressed in very bright shirts
For a romantic time together
We ride in a kayak made for two
As we sail we talk about our good times
I sing the song by Chris De Burgh-lady in Red
After a beach party, in the evening we fly back to England
‘Come on, stop daydreaming,’ my wife said.
Saghir Ulhaq
Andrew Hider
Marsh Marigold
Marigold grows in bright springtime waters,
Where dart shoals of quick little brown fishes;
Adventures there for young sons and daughters,
Where they play out hopeful lifetimes wishes.
Marigold looks down to reflected sky,
As bees sip nectar from gold cups of kings;
Woodland waters nurture tears that clouds cry,
Unseen birdsong heard as brown chiffchaff sings.
Golden petals make no ingots of gold...
I think back to a distant magic time,
Before my childhood dreams were bought and sold,
When I though life would follow steady rhyme.
Marigold succumbs not to thoughts austere,
But returns her joy to me every year.
Andrew Hider
In Buttercup Fields
Today I walk in buttercup fields,
Where a lover of joy to Venus yields.
I walk out where the sky is blue,
You cannot hear me but I speak to you;
For words are birds my friends,
Birds are words that fly to you.
Whether the sun does shine or there is falling rain,
Just for a while I feel no pain.
All seems silent beyond the horizon today;
As if time has no meaning beyond this week away,
But is just a raindrop in a summer lake,
Where I can swim without nightmares till I wake.
I see no god, just my earthly angel who has no wings,
Who walks with me in buttercup fields,
Where each lover of joy to Venus yields.
Andrew Hider
Jo Evans
Shoes Stuck in Mud
Scattered is the dramatic scenic view
hat tired, artistically held
craving invalid tiers of amps so muted
and rawly deranged
embroidered hands thread the simply skinned
ice, hitched doorways embedded rose
earth twisted tonight artificially creased
sideways, wing screaming years arched
as weighted electric numb bells instigate
shallow copper dice
even thorns hunger sits in solid grains
irate, eccentricity behind war
sugared yet diamonds paint heaps
of stirred lies deep in slumber wordless
refrained, somewhat called on footprints dead
I Seethe
stitched flowers index
corpses, bloated stars
wear bruised metal
storm eyes, chrome
bubble flat upon snakes
burnt aprons
clocks sue
the breathless grass
windows erased as a
devoured pulse dictates
heavens inserted
wound rivals in soil
I seethe
dawn stands behind
the moon shipped
handbag in dust, a
thousand raw dots
deaths wept stem
parrots speak words
of mild hunger, mermaids
lay in the brown sands from
oceans premature deaths
the suns wart hand
grabbed to fall
I seethe
shelved read footprints
stir up the wooden
angels smiles, melted
opaque walls twist the
flung holed stone
merry go round memories
the length of a retarded
piece of string dipped in
hot embers new
Mad Yes
To snore into the black
vinyl box of rolled down
the hill volcanic scraps
as the paused knitted cork
kisses the swung ash memory
still upon deaths fluidlike cage
the salted mountains cupped
solution set while pierced one
eyes blankets sink
I threw my ten times necklace
into the breadcrumbed tooth
socket of a blind rainbows
paintbrush scarred
to soak the yellow bricks footprint
four scrubbed walls so elastic
mix and match clocks burn the
metal piano
across a castle windows branch
left to breathe in stone cold
nightmares massaged
in swallow tree holes
rich craters from the drunken cramp
of a shadows pick axe teardrop reflection
untidy in a dices chamber of screams
that sharp end of tippy toes in the chitter
chatter from a serpents rooted floor mat
flung under a deaf blue skies desk