Sunday, March 23, 2014

Jonathan Beale- A Poem

Maundy Thursday

The first is now – its last afternoon 16.24 to-be-precise
Maundy Thursday – soap sales increase – not by much
And the exaggerated footsteps bound along
Echoing a tattoo
Of meaningful direction
The clock stares away:

Seemingly the moment has grown as an empty shell
Purposes grow and need pruning to become and re-become
The flat vision before an alter of sorts
Awaiting its truth
As we kneeling before
Watch facelessly:

The car park remains: each car poised as if ready to launch
The evening is clicking and trawling – ever nearer
An old couple shuffle to meet their Gasemene
The waiting and the waking hours made to rest
To leave the soul
Awaiting strength:

The night the day the black the white – good evil and the consequences
Sitting in a mammoth solitude engulfing not one man but a humanity
The bird song broke a truth
Cold silence
A new day events
Would unfurl:

The actions as we sit around – hateful: in blind self pity
We watch the clock dissolve what we have and our green minds
Erode what we have not
For they who
And do not see
The worlds will be: 

Jonathan Beale’s work has appeared regularly in Decanto,  Penwood Review,  The Screech Owl, Danse Macabre, Danse Macabre du Jour, Poetic Diversity, and also; Voices of Israel in English, MiracleEzine,  Voices of Hellenism Literary Journal, The Journal, Ink Sweat & Tears, Down in the Dirt, The English Chicago Review, Mad Swirl, Poetry Cornwall, Ariadne’s Thread and Bijou Poetry Review. He was commended in Decanto’s and CafĂ© writers Poetry Competitions 2012.  And is working on a collection for Hammer and Anvil. He writes about music, art, architecture, history, nature, science, cities, and the human condition.  He currently works in mental health in South West London. He studied philosophy at Birkbeck College London. He lives in Surrey England.

Sunday, March 9, 2014

Pijush Kanti Deb- A Poem

My Longing

Whenever I am to be made,
May God make me only for her,
In every door of my closed fate,
Before my death and thereafter-
May God write her love in my name
And make her heart always same to same.

Whenever I am to be blessed,
May God bless her instead of me,
In every moment--- happy or sad,
In every poem of my anthology
May God write her passion in my name
And make me winner in the passionate game.

Whenever I am to be gifted,
May God gift her first my ownership,
In the part of my life---the most collocated,
In my journey and in its every trip-
May God write her beauty in my name
And make my home luminous in her flame.

Whenever I am to be departed
May God set her dream in my eye,
Let my prayer be reverberated
In every molecule of air and sky,
My rebirth be written in her name
And her love-bird be owned again to tame.

Pijush Kanti Deb is a new Indian poet with more than 100 poems accepted or published in many national and international magazines and journals- print and on-line since June 2013.He is an Associate Professor in Economics.

Lela Marie De La Garza- A Poem


He feather-jeweled the hummingbird,
Sculpted every shell,
Cleft caves, raised mountains; made
A place for man to dwell.

The sun came at His bidding
And gave the moon its  birth.
God said: “I think I’ll keep this;
Someday it may have worth.”

Jane Blanchard- A Poem

Lazarus was not one to die and tell.
The first time, he spent four days in a tomb
Before the Master raised him to resume
His faithful walk on earth, then said, “Farewell.”
We can but wonder whether Jesus’ friend
Passed through the pearly gates, strolled golden streets,
Roomed in a mansion, slept on silken sheets,
And sang with angels ’til this bliss’s end.
The second time, the Lord did not drop by
The site of sisters’ grief in Bethany,
For once some followers could hear and see
Him risen, Heaven called Him home on high.
Yet hope abounds that never-ending love
Still lifted Lazarus to life above.  
A resident of Georgia, Jane Blanchard studied English at Wake Forest before earning a doctorate from Rutgers.  Her work has recently appeared in The Healing Muse, Penwood Review, The Raven Chronicles, and Seminary Ridge Review.

Kim Bond- Three Poems

Lord, How You Love Me!

Adoring me in my waking hours
Befriending me when I had no friends
Chasing me when I chased after idols
Doting on me even as I sleep
Exhausting my mind with glorious thoughts
Flowing in the air I breathe
Giving me amazing opportunities
Helping me be a better person
Instantly hearing my prayers
Joking with me when I need a laugh
Kindly nudging me in the right direction
Loving me with a sacrificial love
Moving me to focus on what is pure
Nursing my emotional health
Openly acknowledging me as Your child
Pouring Your Spirit into me
Quieting my anxiousness
Rallying behind me when I need courage
Stopping me from making big mistakes
Throwing adventure into my path
Understanding me better than myself
Valiantly protecting me
Walking before me and lighting my path
X-linking my chromosomes 
Yearlong songs sung over me
Zapping me with warm fuzzies


stings in wounds,
leaps from our pores,
pours down in warm tears,
dissolves ice on sidewalks,
crystallizes to form flats,
cures meat for later consumption,
slaps the face with a colossal wave.
Have we lost our saltiness, Father God?


Life in this body
Careful how you handle it
Seems to be long and sturdy
Appears as concrete
Strong, durable, tough, rugged
But is actually glass.

A relationship
to the Lord seems virtuous
Unbeknownst to onlookers
It's a buoy at sea
Realized only by those
who swim in deeper waters.
BIO: Kim Bond loves to write and considers it her ministry. She authored a Christian short story collection called The Footstool and edited a testimony collection called Never Forsaken. Her most recent poem was published in Ancient Paths. 

Saturday, March 8, 2014

Linda M. Crate- Three Poems

the great Healer

You heal me and help me
without my
deserving it; how
could i choose to do anything
less than praise Your
Holy name for the rest of
my days?
He who makes a home
for even the most
minute insect to the largest
hippo swimming in the
He who is strong enough to
conquer and vanquish
countries and towns alike;
yet You hold my hand
tell me that i'm worth more than
rubies when i feel worthless
tell me to keep trying
when despair tries to drag
me under her flood
because You have plans to 
prosper me not to hurt me.


You remind me
i am stronger than this pain
tougher than all these
making me cry at night
tossing and turning me out
of my bed,
and so i pray and You
make things better
sometimes even the most minute
change is enough to make
me breathe,
and You always know exactly
what i need and when i
need it even
when i'm stressing out and freaking out
You know it will all end all right,
and so i'll try to stop fretting
because i know it tends toward evil
You told me so;
so i'll remember to trust You
because You're the only power that saves.


You are the only power
that saves
so i turn to You
because everything seems
to be falling apart
before it can fall together
yet i know You have
plans to prosper me not to hurt me
so i'll hold on
even if this ocean is threatening
to drown me
i know You have the power
to hold Your hand out and stop the storm
from devouring me
so i hold on here breathing shallowly
hoping that soon
this pain will be gone
because it's really hurtful, but i know
You won't let it last forever.