Poetry is Peng - January
The Price.
Up in the charging summer air,
Down where the sunlight was drumming,
They jumped into pure crystal lakes;
They take to it, leaping and running.
And I stood above, holding the sky,
And said that’s the reason I couldn’t,
Follow them into lake that’s so pure,
That’s why I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t.
By Liza Steinberg
Birth
I’m proud to acknowledge the fire within
It comes at a time when I’ve made peace with all that’s behind me
The past year has revealed many stages of being torn
Experiences that obliterated my soul
Both, in a sense of healing, but also learning to understand the importance of acceptance.
Even when it’s not in our favour
I’m ready to face who I want to be
Without feeling bound to a past that no longer serves me.
By Raheema Khan
raheema_ek
Kingdom of God
What is the kingdom of God?
twelve-forty-five, I found it, man, it broke
my heart, and not for the first time
and on a train at seven-a-m-, blue line, north-central
until at school, I write a book (and don’t think about you)
and what I write, I call Malaika, and wear it like a cape
all the way to Africa, north-central, back again
you see it goes on this way until
the night we visit my grandmother’s house
the one she dies in, to find her there
I eight years old, she eight older, and pleased, to say the least
at last meet to the jewel from the curve of my spine
my God, it is a relief to be there (and not thinking about you)
it took me two-and-a-half years to find
what I came home to find at eleven-seventeen
when the floor it rose up from beneath the mat to ask of me,
“What is the kingdom of God?”
and thankfully I knew by then that I had stolen a piece and swallowed it
and the form and colour grew in me but I could not breathe back
the time before the eight-o’clock train rolled back around to take you
back again, L-A-X-, south-central, don’t you dare
my God, what would I give for this kingdom?
By Samuel Kier
तुम से दूर हुए तो दिल ने मसरूफ होने की चाह की
वो दिन से अब तक ये दिल तुम्हारे इंतज़ार में मसरूफ रहा है
As/ When distance separated us, my heart desired to be consumed by some distraction
From then to now, my heart has been consumed/distracted by the thought of meeting you again.
By Kudrat
Classifications and categorisations,
Of race, class and many more.
Why can’t I just be.
NO Reference. NO Standard. NO Normal.
Just be.
But just be what?
Well you’ll see through my performativity.
By Inddieme
