Insight October 2016 by David W Palmer

EDITORS

FROM THE EDITORS Maricris Cabrera

David Palmer

The Editors’ Quill Welcome to inSIGHT, the online Journal of our community of poets, Canvas to My Soul, Public Sight. This represents a dream that we have cherished for a very long time, the dream of a lifetime, to grow as poets. We have known so many famous poets all over the world, and known great poets now and one of them is you. Our dream for you is that you become famous, if not in our time, then in the next generation to come. This will be our legacy to our children and our children's children. And to pursue this dream, join us as we fulfill this dream. We want to talk about why our community journal is called inSIGHT. Of course, it is a play on words of our name, Canvas… Public Sight. Poetry is, if nothing else, an offering of special, creative, imaginative, evocative and stimulating views of the world in which we find ourselves. We see that world differently, and like an artist at work, paint pictures in words upon the Canvas of our Souls to convey to each other and to our readers what life could, should, might, and ought to be. An encounter with a poem should leave the reader hungry for what she has just read, what he has just imagined, to come into being. In other words, it is a breakthrough in thinking, a true inSIGHT gained into what a change in approach, imagination or attitude might afford. To that end, may inSIGHT be the journal of discovery, of excitement, empowerment and inspiration. We all together, can imagine something more, structure it in thought, and then delight our readers as our poetry teaches, “Here is a new path, and you are invited to walk it with us, step by step.”

TABLE OF CONTENTS

AL SCHERS ALLAN BALL ANGEL BOYAR AZLINA YASSIM BALESHWAR PUROHIT BETANIA’S SONG CINQUAINS CLYTEMNESTRA Aa COLLABORATION POEMS DAVID PALMER DILIP VYAS DUANE PHILLIPS EDITOR’S QUILL ELOMERE FATIMA BUKHARI FOXYTURBY TURF GARRY SPOONER GELDA CASTRO GRAÇA COSTA HAROLD CLAPSADDLE haiku HARVEST THEME POEMS HISTORY OF CANVAS HELENA DIAS IRENE RIZ JEWEL RAGHEB JOAN “JO” THOMAS JUSTICE CLARKE KANTA ROY

12 17 18 12 19 66 56 - 57 5 39 - 40 11 20 21 2 64 22 23 24 25 26 27 52 - 55 12 - 16 4 52 28 60 29 30 – 31 32

KAREN HAYWARD KEN NEWMAN KIMBERLY LEUTHNER LAUGHING WATERS LINDA BUNGORI MARINA BALMACEDA PAREDES MARICRIS CABRERA MARILYN WARD MARK NORRIS NASREEN MALIK NICOLETTA NEAGOY PHIL RENAUD POET DESH RIC DOWNING RICHARD M KNITTLE, JR. ROBERT ANDREWS ROBERT GILLETTE RUSTY RIMES SEAN RUNYON SIB BORGIJIN SKYLARK HATTEE STORMY ANGEL TANYA JEAN WILLIAMS TILAK SHANKAR MURKERJEE TOM POTEET TRANSFORMATION EARTH URBAN GYPSIE VICTOR GARCIA

33 34, 61 35, 62 6 9 36 10 8 37 38 66 13 65 41 42 43 7 65 44 45 46 47 48 49 64 58 - 59 50, 63 51

HISTORY of CANVAS Laughing Waters

Robert Gillette

Marilyn Ward

Linda Bungori

Maricris Cabrera

David Palmer

Canvas of My Soul was begun by two Poetesses, Krishna and Leonila B. Shortly after launching it, Clytemnestra Aa joined them, as co-Owner. Clytemnestra had the idea of keeping the original Canvas small and private, a place where poets can feel safe and protected. Laughing Waters, Robert Gillette and Marilyn Ward joined with her. They created a second Canvas community, a public one that could grow and try new and exciting projects to challenge our poets and artists. Special projects like Learn Something New, Photo Prompt Competitions, and just lately Structured Poetry classes have been dearly loved features of this community. Robert Gillette, David Palmer and Maricris Cabrera host weekly Your Pen Rocks columns, to recognize outstanding work by our poets and artists. David Palmer and Maricris Cabrera, newest Owners to join the team, are developing this latest step in our Communityâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s evolution, inSIGHT, our new online quarterly Journal. It is to these ends that Canvas to My Soul Public Sight continues to be advancing and innovative, as well as intimate, encouraging and familial.

OWNER

OWNER CLYTEMNESTA AA

WORDS are my passion. I write poems which pack a punchâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;as a dear friend commented once. I have an awful lot of zeal for ancient civilizations. To read my poetry and short stories,visit: wordsmithi.blogspot.com

OWNER STILL ALIVE Riverside and almost sunset time I am walking, leaving few footprints For the lazy smooth wave to get filled Right behind me my Sharp edges, Pain Walking step in my step, like a puppy Put my hurt twisted body to rest In the warm river mud, such a feeling Relaxing and drifting away, breathing deeply Get pulled away, murky waters Soft wind blowing and messing my hair But this don't upset me, he is clearing My thoughts like a dark stormy cloud Above restless head, how much longer These people will try hate and hurt How much longer can I take it in??? Such a peace in this glorious place far from town I need place, I need air to breath, I need to see and feel a strong connection with Nature I need me a place where I can feel more, More important, alive and unique Something more Than just one more small piece of the puzzle Town concrete is squeezed and pushed to extreme I need an open field where I can just scream If I want to, without somebody pointing at me Hey look , look at her, she is crazy, you see??!! Poor people, they hurt me but all I can do is pray River water so pleasant and cooling my thoughts Pain almost gone, no more stormy clouds Flapping wings right above my head

Empty streets little moth sees the light Trying to break through the windows And his small little wings Leaving colorful prints But it's useless, no one even noticed This town is deaf and it's cold I am alive and survive one more day in the city Of cold empty faces and hearts August 2016 ÂŠ Laughing waters

OWNER LAUGHING WATERS Laughing Waters goes by her Native American name given by her dearest blood sister, Walking Horse. She was born in the Ukraine but traveled all over as her father was in the military. She has written poetry most of her life and is a collector of knowledge in traditions, cultures, religion, animals, plants, nature and all living things. She believes in kindness, patience, respect and has a great desire to protect life on this world. Acquainted with death, she says we should not fear it. She started writing in English only three years ago and is a published author, as well as a student of structured poetry.

OWNER

OWNER ROBERT GILLETTE Robert learned to love and write poetry at a young age, observing his mother, herself a poet and short story writer. More than 40 years would pass before he came to Google+ and discovered online poetry communities. In Canvas to My Soul, he found a caring, encouraging community. Early poems met with success, which encouraged him to write more. Marilyn Ward and Laughing waters, brought to Canvas a family atmosphere, which allows poets room to breathe, and crate beauty in verse. Robert was raised in the Catskills in New York, but now make him home in South Carolina.

OWNER

OWNER MARILYN WARD Marilyn Ward is a retired social education worker, who started to write poetry in June, 2015, starting with a dare from a friend. Her special interests in poetry lie in the Japanese forms of poetry, haiku, tanka, shaihai. A favorite hobby is photography, which she uses to illustrate her poetry, especially shaihai. On occasion she writes free form. A special joy for her is writing for the community poem prompts. summer day harvestmen sleep on my wall

OWNERS OWNERS

OWNER LINDA BUNGORI http://nyccats.urgentpodr.org/angelo-akamarty-a1089666/ Link to one of Lindaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s special interests

Linda Bungori is a live in nursing assistant giving one on one care to senior adults so that they can remain living in their home, a career she has followed for 37 years. She loves to cook and read, but her passion is rescuing animals. In addition to being an Owner here on Canvas To My Soul, Public Sight, she also is a Moderator for Beau ShitZu Rescue, seeking to find adoptive homes or temporary foster homes especially for dogs.

OWNER

OWNER MARICRIS CABRERA Maricris Duran Cabrera was born and lives in the Philippines. She began writing poetry in the late 1990â&#x20AC;&#x2122;s, and believes poetry is the language to the soul, the sound of passion, a taste of hope and a touch of a new beginning. It is the seed that we sow today and be harvested tomorrow.

BLESSED I see the sun breaking in your eyes first light to a bright new day all the glory in me reach the summit counting all my blessings stolen moments, laughter, I'm having it all from a pundit. It's always those peculiar moods makes me silent but then, all I could hear is the sound of my keyboard racing back and forth could it be my heart and yours that pound. Your words so pure waking my innocence, so demure lifting me to a pedestal shower and outpouring me with respect O Boaz, let me be your Ruth! Did I enthrall you with such sweetness sustaining friendship, your pretty poetess so blessed I have it all, I admit with stark simplicity My Lord, I must humbly say I accept your grace and I offer thee my complete devotion and felicity. C 2016 Maricris Cabrera

OWNERS spellbound by your words imagination soars free bird flight into the dawn into the dawn ever changing light develops colors disguised in shadow struggling for freedom struggling for freedom passions arise contending for truth wrongs be made right peace to our shores peace to our shores repairing the breach coexistence with nature in harmonyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s balance red fox dances red fox dances harmonious piping through wind-whistling reeds cadence of flutter songbird soars songbird soars soft breeze caressing shadows are fleeing bright eyes see the fox distant church bells chime ÂŠ2016 David W. Palmer

OWNER DAVID PALMER

David Palmer, a former minister and avid book reader and passionate writer, has been writing poetry since 2005. He writes about love, marriage, relationships, Biblical themes, philosophy and social concerns. Since joining Google+ he has written over 270 sonnets and a host of micro poems. He makes his home in Washington State, near Seattle, in the Pacific Northwest, United States.

All brings back the memory lane of my mom

Winners Named; At the County Showground Amber brings in; her harvest of pumpkins Wonderful seed pods; of bright orange flesh

The colour of the pumpkin matched her eyes

Fairground abounding; doughnuts for dunking

Loving as one could be

Pepper takes her salsa to the craft fair

More than just recipe

All manner of foodstuff, sweet, nice and fresh

In half pound jars; she bottled them herself It's super spicy, the devil may care

The time of you and me

It is a hobby, won't improve her wealth

Being passing down to my own now

Kane is selling goodies; on his sweet stall

All the old ladies; flock to taste his wares Candy floss can be smelt; throughout the hall Tempted by his popcorn; kids rush up the stairs Beer tent so popular, grass is getting wet Year has come round; we owe nature a debt ©AL Schers 2016 [Tonscher01]

Insight Journal’s Theme Presentation

Fall is here a beautiful season, Harvest on the table is so pleasing Family and friends and children about This is what life is all about. Turkey, ham and pumpkin pie A season I can enjoy with The apple of my eye

HARVEST

Harvest Summer is done Twas so much fun The crops grew and grew All the summer through

And thus Our larders are stocked Locked and blocked

Now let us praise our Lord For all the bounty stored Now fall is in the air In our barns The harvest is upon us On our farms Reaping and picking are done with great care © Phil Renaud 2016

The Ghosts Chilly Hot Salsa The Autumn leaves were falling so fast As the SPIRITS of past gather together for a quick party. THEY gather together in an old barn... where the full moon harvest is being stored and hung. Corn and pumpkins, beans and potatoes Will there be the seasonal Chips & Salsa? Oh YESSSSSS!! ... came a reply from a long time spirit ... who knows how to create a Chilly delight. He whipped around the barn's lofts picking the best secrets from the cornucopia of the provisions. Peppers still smoking from the days hot fires Taking on a hot Chilly bite. Smallwood's farmlands hold such secrets Where Super foods grow at a rapidly pace. The Ghosts that live there know all the Best pastures.. The hottest of peppers and award-winning tomatoes. For these were the lands of the Peshastin Indians of Washington state. The Witches have arrived and started their fires ... boiling their waters and creating their SPELLS. Accepting requests from the dead spirits around them. How refreshing they all wanted Salsa. So the Witches begin, plopping in tomatoes and red peppers and then a few extra onions. And because it's Witchcraft they sacrifice a hot headed ghost who was grumbling the most. This frightened the rest of the spirits as they witnessed this deed. The Bubbles were boiling, and the vapors escaped and out of the pot came a moan from the mist. Triple the Bubbles to maximize favor!! Shriek one of the witches!! And When it was done and the smoke had all settled. There was a pot of the BEST TASTING SALAS!! The spirits gathered around and scooped up the tastings turning them red with such Jubilations!! They Giggled and moaned as the party began. Then one of the spirits declared to Witches. THIS is THE BEST of the MOST WICKED OF SALSAS!! ÂŠ 2016 Ric Downing

Ghost Chili Salsa "I yearn for, the sixteen ounce glass jar of pure delight, so tantalizing, so delicious. With sliced vegetables cut so small, and so fine. I can taste bite after bite.... "I yearn for, the zesty spice, but sweet juices that I drink as if it was some tasty fine wine loaded with spices, herbs, and chili which fills my appetite wanting more, and more as if I'm addicted…. "I yearn for, the dipping of the tortilla chips into the bowl of satisfaction, satisfying my tummy with such great food, or snack that is fulfilling each, and every way.... "I yearn for, the love of this special joy shared amongst the world in which it is made, and given as a recipe for generations, and for generations to come. The unforgettable taste of Ghost Chili Salsa is so divine…

©Tanya Jean Williams 2016

Beautiful Blossoms Of Life © Harold (Bo) Clapsaddle 2016 Flowers besides the traveled Ivy waiting as reminders to ones who come they whom take a seat on the slatted bench with iron cast handles these for grip.

Strong and providing for whomever needs a lift from the sad filtered that still remains within from a world that’s in chaos that breaks down ones reason to welcome such peace that be. This of silent reverie where there’s comfort here so much so even Peanut seems and feels relief

is best taken here. When a world tosses ye a noxious bone, grind it up and use it as fertilizer for what’s planted that way all learns what’s useful even though pains seem to persist let the beautiful blossoms of life prevail to brighten all around.

inSIGHT’S FALL THEME The Harvest The Scarecrow

that the birds are !

This is a clown

However I can 't resist a guffawed

From some utterly street play

laughter

Or so.

Ever since I read an Australian verse

Whatever -

Wherein when no one is looking

I call it a scarecrow.

The great character scarecrow

What difference it makes ?

Winks his eye at the farmer 's

The clown the joker and the crow

daughter (and a few things else !).

I mean the scarecrow

Birds somehow

All belong to the same category.

Decoded my broad smile

The entertaining one.

And have advanced a step further

But the scarecrow

In shrugging off the scarecrow 's

Stands a bit

authority.

High

Now they perch on him all the more !

As he is allotted the greatest responsibility Of guarding a farm. Especially from the scavengers

Dilip Vyas

POETS

POET ALLAN BALL ALLAN BALL has been writing for years as a pastime. Although having never formally studied poetry, he has had several poems published in numerous Anthologies. His preference, however, is to share pieces online in communities such as ours. He says, â&#x20AC;&#x153;I've always thought the written word allows our hearts a voice . My writing is based on observation and real life . I dislike arrogance with a passion . Humility is a far more appealing attribute . Basically that's it really I'm nothing special just an ordinary man , who enjoys writing.â&#x20AC;?

POETS DWELLER ON THE

Unknown

THRESHOLD

Conceive The women are the creators Give birth Be born The universe is our sacred Live womb Die without a fuss Born in the belly of the Accept all as it is beast Do not resist or put up Of nature where worlds A fight with the dweller meet Spermatozoa swimming to On threshold of consciousness get As that is all an exercise Past the dweller on the Threshold of consciousness In futility Thought obstructing the Words way to Are the dweller on Knowing the truth of your Own being here before you The threshold From silence you were born Were born to be free and From darkness you alive Came forth to see the Smile on your mother's Conceived in love Face who only taught you Born in truth To love and be loved No Paradise lost This is the light that pierced No deceiver and the deThrough the darkness ceived Of the veil of words that Just you and me Can behold but cannot get Dwellers on the threshold Past the dweller on the Of pristine nature not Threshold of consciousness Contaminated with the Knowledge of good and evil But innocent babes In the woods of the free and Wild frontier in the rugged Landscape of being pilgrims On a journey with destination

The liar that tells you To believe in everyone and Anything but who you are ©Copyright, 2016, Angel Patrick Boya

POET ANGEL BOYAR Angel Patrick Boyar, has been writing poetry for more than 30 years. It has inspired him to discover and explore the meaning and significance of life. Poetry takes him beyond himself into the realm of spirit where life is lived without fear and inhibitions. “Its aim is to liberate us from our stultified energies of life.”

POETS OH! MOTHER EARTH Oh! Mother Earth When your precious Pearl the Sun shines It is the time you blossom and the poet writes rhymes And birds start flying in the sky All living and non-living beings open their heart’s eye Oh! Mother Earth When the wind blows with a new pace You give all species a new life and grace All over this world, a sweet fragrance reaches To all beings, once again, a new lesson Mother Earth teaches

POET BALESHWAR PUROHEET Baleshwar Purohit comes from Sansai Teh village in the state of Himachal Pradesh, India. He is a social worker, and enjoys playing volley ball, reading, writing poetry and watching movies, He writes poems in both English and his mother tongue. He has been sharing his poetry on Google+, Poets and Canvas to My Soul Public Sight for the last six months. The poem is my life Poems are so wonderful The poems have the power to eradicate the strife Poems are so beautiful

Oh! Mother Earth In the heart of nature, you sing a beautiful song You make all beings healthy and strong Oh! Mother Earth, you are kind You impart an energetic strength to all beings in the mind Oh! Mother Earth A beautiful sound comes, when the water flows For love, peace brotherhood and friendship, Mother Earth calls The mountains, the oceans, the sky and the grassy plains are in your heart The love for beauty and kindness you impart Oh! Mother Earth The rain, the snow, the cloud, the mist, the lightening and the rivers enhance your beauty In all being's life, you recite the melodious sound of fluty Your soul has glorious sheen Every day you appear charming and green Oh! Mother Earth, you have abundant patience To see the condition of humanity and other beings, Mother Earth feels pain and cries Your loving children are trying to destroy your eyes Every day you face the strife On the other hand, you nourish all being’s life At dusk, when the Sun goes down And the moon comes around like a crown When the grace of the moon is in the grass At that moment, you look like beautiful lass

©Baleshwar Purohit

POETS Step well When the sun descends itself into it To fill up the pitcher with the visuals The moon itself rises ( though this is bright morning ) in the step well. The invisible queen Who dwells here Is always feared. What if she comes out all of a sudden And create a magic world of wonders ? Tender touching and lofty sentiments Have got themselves engraved on the faces of the idols. Otherwise who will stay here forever ? After centuries only scanty water is left at the moment Which is famed worldwide . You see Water itself suffers neglect in an ancient step well !

A small flock of doves alight. Peck subtle grains of stones Scattered on the floor. The 'ghurrr..' 'ghurrr..' gentle sounds fills the atmosphere and prevails. I see. And I transmit gradually. Go beyond the time as if. As if happened to be with the beloved. Timelessness that is go beyond the time Is the essence of all the clocks in the world. Though the issue itself is arguable Immediately gets solved here. Dilip Vyas / From original Gujarati ( c) Image Poem and translation Dilip Vyas 2016

POET DILIP VYAS DILIP VYAS, 56. lives in Savarkundla, Gujarat State, India. He is a former High School Teacher. He was written poetry in Gujarati since 1960, and is an award winning poet, conferred by Gujarati Sahitya Parishad, a pretiguous literary institution in 1987.

POETS Creation My creation is joy for it comes from my soul I want you to hold it and be made whole I give it to you an outpouring of me Take and embrace what I want you to see

POET DUANE PHILLIPS Duane Phillips is a father of four with a curious mind and artistic heart. He loves to write and express what he feels inside. Whether poetry or stories, his mission is ultimately the same:

I want to bring forth words of life I want to use terms that touch a chord in the masses and make a difference

I want to convey words that sweat, cry and bleed

There is so much I need to say So much I have to express For what I can't say with words Oh God, let them hear between the lines

It starts inside with seeds of light Growing there they give us sight Rolling, turning, and getting so strong Creation begins right where you belong Our outpourings aren’t measured as merely a show We must allow our treasures to grow It is our soul’s life to express what lies deep There is so much to give, we must not keep Our joy is made manifest in purging our gift To move others, inspire, strike awe, uplift The rapture of finally making a rhyme And knowing that your present was once mine My creation is joy for it comes from my soul I want you to hold it and be made whole I give it to you an outpouring of me Take and embrace what I want you to see © 2016 Duane Phillips

POETS A shoulder I need to cry Turn my flowing tears dry I wish to place my weary head On his strong peaceable chest Need to forget for a few seconds That I am brave and the best I want to cry like a helpless baby I want to ask God that am I really Strong to face all defector Please tell me, my creator Whether you made me Worry proof or goof I need to squeeze tight To weep and cry all night

2016 ÂŠ Fatima Bukhari

POET FATIMA BUKHARI Fatima Bukhari is a poetess, writer, interviewer, Economist and Business Professional. In her diverse professional career, she served in multinational, national and federal government institutions. After her marriage, being a mother of three kids, she utilized her spare time by volunteering online in the United Nations, Teaching Business to MBA Executives and writing as her hobby. She manages her weblog i.e. mutafariqkhayalat.com. Her poems, stories, articles and interviews already published in international anthologies and e- magazines. She is an emerging poetess and writer of English and Urdu languages from the Lahore city of Islamic Republic of Pakistan.

POETS

POET FOXYTURBY TURF A passionate individual, Foxyturby Turf writes with intense emotions, not only to voice her own, but to echo emotion secluded and curtailed by others. A proud Filipina and mother of two loving boys. Her last "10 career years" focused on Supervising and Training BPO representatives in aid of foreign businesses. Foxyturby Turf is a simple home-body who also loves to cook, and spends a lot of time in prayer.

Take me because you love me Where life you breathe fills with air of longing To hold and be with Of that spark that never ceased To burn the heart with passion eternal Take me because I am Whose soul yours intertwine Where the vague awareness of what is Is made known and complete As connection defies all logic Because God permitted oneness Take me and not inflict pain Without letting your desire be tainted Nor that longing bruised with disrespect To taste the bitter-sweet memories With impassioned loneliness Only for a night of wanting Take me because your soul seeks its mate Without prejudice nor fear Without strife nor bitter reminiscing Without condition nor tempering Without hands to defile Take me because YOU LOVE ME Unconditionally.. And let our eyes Bleed no more ÂŠFoxturbyTurf 2016

POETS

blush of twilight I saw upon the blush of twilight golden threads among the grey orange edged in clouds of white a scene of natures fine array and as the sun kissed and dipped beyond the sea of blue I closed my eyes and wished a wish and gave my heart to you ÂŠ Garry Spooner 27 August 2016

POET GARRY SPOONER Garry Spooner, 55, lives in New Zealand, and has been writing regularly for two years . He dropped out of High School at the age of 16 and has had no formal training in poetry. He greatly enjoys writing poetry for the enjoyment of his peers in the Google+ communities. He is excited to see this journal get started. He is very innovative in his writings and most recently has taken on the Spenser Sonnet form in his writing.

POETS Ready to love Love makes us feel we are alive, eager for affection ... And then a smile comes the face that once sought reasons to forced signs of a welfare that did not exist ... ...

POET GELDA CASTRO (Gel Poetry Garden)

We seek, like the animals our better posture, the most beautiful clothes, a look that enhances the effects one who pursues prey's shape, the voice has a special velvety, the words are almost a whisper, and compares the floor charming Flamingos with its amazing colors. Oh ... it all makes us feel love, That nourishes the soul, I that brings all calm, What makes us look younger, What makes the heart beat stronger What makes us daydream, Ready to simply love. By Gel Castro - Copyright 2016

POETS O POEMA

THE POEM

O poema nasce de um quase nada onde cabe um quase tudo. Nasce de um som, um gemido, uma lágrima, um sorriso, uma porta entreaberta cheia de sonhos secretos, uma carícia, uma flor, uma palavra. ou apenas uma paleta de cor. O Poema é dor, é espanto alegria, desencanto. É silêncio em que me escondo; é chama desejo, paixão, encontro, desencontro, vulcão. Nasce de um quase nada onde cabe um quase tudo. Com ele me visto, porque dele sou refém, amante, irmã.

The poem is born from almost nothing where fits almost everything. Born from a sound, a groan, a tear, a smile, a half-open door full of secret dreams, a caress, a flower, a word or just a shade of pale. The poem is pain, it is amazement joy, disenchantment. It is silence in which hide myself; it is flame desire, passion, meeting, mismatch, volcano. Born from an almost nothing where fits almost everything. With it I dress because I have to for I'm its hostage, sister, lover.

©Graça Costa

POET GRAÇA COSTA Portuguese, mother oF two, 53 years old. Her life is Sociology, behavior analysis and counseling. Dance, poetry, reading, cinema and music are her passions. Family is her “safe haven.” Of writing, she says, “Need it, like the air that I breathe and when words fall from my fingers, my heart and soul is filled with the urgency to let them play. Her online blog is her harbor, a place gladly shared with all. Her quote: “I believe in a better world, and I know the change starts inside of me. May poetry be the seed to that goal.”

POETS I’m The Drudge Puppet With words of warriors will I awake this empty page still with type-cast of heartstring a thing such as this I do bring. How ladle after ladle of creamy acted felt from alphabet soup spilling forth as dealt potato chunked, carrot grated, celery sliced slimed tomato and squash since sacrificed.

POET HAROLD CLAPSADDLE Harold Clapsaddle is a down to earth, genuine person, who strives to be online what he is in real life. He states, “I have all that I need to survive no matter what happens, I am blessed. Yet, offline, I survive alone, subsidized by God. Online I survive to help others any way possible, I don't just survive, I thrive, I live, I experience life like never before, I have friends.”

Thank you, my friends My heart it pretends It condescends, It transcends, My humor it sends

Miles of entrails diced widowed trails where clasps and hales the dairy pails voices adrift from cliffhead strewn sills endow mailbox fills bionic bills for pills. Legends labeled black-and-white script “Tales from the Crypt” so well equipped unrecognized romances that kissed lips conveys Valentino to schlep elicit ships. I yet sail forth the dreary wales cross as boss of what loss seems albatross held aloft long periods of emotional promotional is knowable devotional. Divulgatory teasers press as allegory to stir ladled scoops of potboiler story as romance recital feature’s epic tale poet is the string master without fail. I’m the drudge puppet of unimaginative styling calculative black type as creative.

My imagination has no ends I am in a marvelous place I am with friends

POETS A poem with the uplifting end Gloomy morning, cold air. Angry gusts pierce through the layers of dreams. Summer is gone. Birds are cheerfully packing and soon silence will settle in the abandoned nests. Semidarkness is hollow. One step off the edge and autumn will follow. Let’s celebrate what has left with Champagne, caviar and a string quartet. Burning bright through the night fireplace, William Blake, winter loving embrace. Words and notes are weaving a song welcoming snow. One of Irene’s special collections, “Tales of the Forest,” features her photography and drawings which illustrate what she sees in natural objects. This piece is entitled, “A Seahorse’s dream is to have a pair of wings.”

POET IRENE RIZ Irene Riz makes her home in Washington, D.C. and is an Assistant Professor and Research Scientist at George Washington Univeristy . Irene pictures a well balanced life as one which balances body and mind, self [ and others, boredom and passion, unique and common, physical and virtual reality. She says, “Reaching point of balance at any of these dimensions is a pleasant experience that if not called happiness yet is a mean to reach it. The balance is fragile. Reaching the balance in all dimensions at the same time is very difficult but can serve as a life goal and bring a sense of purpose”

POETS Joan (JO) Thomas is a Poet, Writer, Reiki Master and Meditation teacher. She believe in equality and fairness for all people. She states, “All people are my people and my people are all people. We journey in life to develop an understanding to the reality we live. Goodness is the ground for humanity awareness, love, light and unity sharing each other’s energy.” POET JO (Joan) THOMAS BETRAYAL Society today tells us… Being Caribbean is a sacrifice In every possible way serves, the’ Possibilities lives is fears, is society’ Black man’s life exterior degrading ‘Caribbean’s’… A continuous affected life to date‘ Through leadership targets sets suffers Officials targets sets for Caribbean men “The Caribbean men serve” A list no greener is Caribbean men Serves these failing system in place “Institutionalization destroys them’ Caribbean people now globalism” Prison… is number one Mental institutions becomes big Social services extremity racist Judicial system unjust legal racism Education (denies) centuries Legalism don’t defend Caribbean’s Worse housing kept Ghetto’s going System…no jobs (Very low employment rate is nil) Caribbean people/children are used A fund and support a legal racism

When God say speak these truth Help race gain fairness, the’ Universe said time face truth is life Unjust system in place for Caribbean’s Centuries Caribbean’s serves losing battle! Adjustment must come soon not ‘judged’ Feasibility overdue no radicalization A change in society blindness is due Norm…sets minds on Caribbean’s They can’t take any more evils through Blindness to what is life expectation Caribbean people deserves better Desire a life expectation too…yes Happiness lost long ago widows closed Caribbean stigma places for life boat Caribbean are not given opportunities Caribbean people is not the problem (UK) is the challenge for Caribbean’s’ Caribbean’s not treated the same… As the rest of other nationalities (UK) © Joan Thomas All Rights Reserves – (15.09-201)

POETS Justice Clarke - has been working with his imagination since he was a young boy and began writing and illustrating his own original comic book stories at age 13. He took a break from this while he majored in Psychology at New York University where he earned his degree. It was there that he learned, due to his essays and talks with his professors, that he had a knack for writing. He then spent several years working in the mental health field as a drug and alcohol counselor and a clinical therapist. Due to a near fatal car accident, personal hardships, and emotional struggles, he began to write what he was feeling as a coping mechanism. He wrote his first public poem on Facebook under the trademark moniker "Thoughts of a Single Man" in December 2010 and has never stopped. In 2009 he released a well received Hip Hop artist under the recoding name " The L.E.J" on 1o1 Airborne Productions label entitled ' Time to Blow".

In 2011 he won the Blood Sweat and Tears poetry slam and began to concentrate on writing his first poetry book. From that time until late 2012 he has written and published six short books, "Thoughts of a Single Man-100 poems in 100 days" , "Thoughts of a Single Man Vol. 2 Poetry for the Grown and Sexy, The Erotica Files", " Love Letters", "Confessions of the Pen", " Ink Without Fear" and a men's mental health guide called â&#x20AC;&#x153;After She Leaves -A healing guide for the suddenly single male." all of which are availablehttps://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ Flowetic . In 2013 he was featured in a poetry collaboration, a individual poem, and a short erotic story in the book "Hot Summer Nights" available through www.sharesnack.com . He also won the infamous blog radio Poetry After Dark's " Battle of the Metaphors" in December of that same year. In 2014 he was featured in the P.O.E.T antholo-

gy, and was one of the four featured poets profiled in Inner Child's year end review poetry compilation " The Year of the Poet." as well as becoming an internet show radio host on the P.O.E.T. talk show network. He was also featured in Inner Child's latest compilation "Black Males". Most recently he was a senior executive producer as well as a radio talk show host on the APRI network working alongside blogtalk radio personality Kiler Davenport. He is now working with the acclaimed One Positive Way Radio network as a poetry and talk show host. He has just recently released his first poetry / musical CD this year which can be found on www.CDbaby.com entitled "Sounds of a Spoken Soul- a journey in love". Currently he has released an epic compilation of his poetry entitled "Emotions in Ink ", This fall he will also be releasing a five track EP with well known Spain producer Konducta called " Ghosts of Shaolin" By the end of this year he will also have another Hip Hop CD out with international producer Krazy K- Loe. Lastly, early next year he will be on a Hip Hop compilation album with legendary recording artist and actor Urg7. Find him on Facebook at http:// www.facebook.com/justice.clarke.5 and become lost in the endless rivers that flow from C. William Clarke also known as the "Thoughts of a Single Man".

POETS

The Colors of her Pain She hides her pain so well like a chameleon born of chaos internally sheltered under the emotional umbrella she carries hoping no drops of remorse slip through but I know her pain I can see it in her eyes though so white and clear I know in my heart how she cries for I too have my scars to bear and though she sobs in bitter silence I can still hear her tears the blandness that surrounds her in the dark dreary shades of gray is what she feels will protect her

as she makes her muddy way through the roads of another day and in the depths of the night she tosses and she turns for the fires of her tragedy still brightly burn so she says a silent prayer that only the Lord can hear how I wish I was there for I would hold her precious hold her close in an unwritten promise to keep her near and let her know she is not alone for I too have the markings of lost pain etched deep within my bones the red that flows through her

is her anger and her rage by those who assaulted her verbally and cornered her physically where she could not be saved the green is the fields she roams mentally where she is free to play where the wretched clouds stay at bay where all the pain can fade away while the colors stalk in their creep and still walk as they seep from the hardened hole left in her soul the festive dancing dots that fall from the creases of the shadows anointing the flower that attempts to blossom within her I have seen her dancing as I paused waiting for my moment for me to be her partner

for it is said two broken hearts can always merge and beat as one like the yellow rays that run through her in the glow like the rising sun I see the blue in her flow like the oceans so deep and pure their depths of when she wept shows that she can still endure I sit patiently watching her as she moves stiffly in the halls of her leaden gait like she walks in quicksand leaving behind the muddy footprints stamped like an emblem of woe on the plane of her sentenced slate ÂŠ 2016 Justice Clarke

POETS Tranquility. My tranquility followed road, You clung and fixed with backbone! Transformed ,crossed roads, I bore you ! Star light nights to drop it's stars Crawling dawn destined noon, till loss it's color of yellow mushroom; old clotted blood to spot in groove; Ached soul to mist; 'Am tired to yell; Dropping stars where you clung, you clung to my back bone, I am to bear; With you crossed roads stepped one after another.

dance! Silence the breeze! Poetries to wing departing From blue lagoon. Brimming the pages ; Ambrosia with deep care Unbeliev= able, Caring you, A pursue , crossing Roads.

Lost shade my ensured house, sitting in it's house Indeed smiled old lady owl; Holding knife super sharp! Moon in to pieces sailing pondering solitary cut the knot of ribbon, read the massage Of postponed war; My pen, The dreamer writes your name, Hence is the time of lifting White clothes lament, Ex- face changed Grecian Urn to smile. In hollow silence, creep- Yeah ! the blue moon ; ing lapse; I am to bear! I am to drink in stillness, Birds on summer cottage Original copyright (c) kanshade, ta Roy. gliding immortal easy

POET KANTA ROY Kanta Roy makes her home in West Bengal, India and teaches literature and poetry. She is a gifted poet, writing in both Bengali and English, and is a member of several poetry communities on Google+. Her father was himself a poet, and that is where she learned the love of this craft. Her father also served in the military, thus her love for jet aircraft.

POETS

POET KAREN HAYWARD Karen Hayward lives along the Essex coast in the UK and has been writing since 2012. She successfully runs her own blog where she explores freedom of expression through poetry and prose. A fearless writer Karen endeavors to capture a small glimpse of what it is to be human through both the dark and the light. Karen has had her poetry published in various online publications and is an active voice within the poetry communities.

To love, to be whole. To swim in the shallow waters of the divine in a lust filled lake of desire. To adore, to feel the essence of love upon your words and drink them in quenching the deep thirst, the need to love, not be loved. To cherish the treasures of your being, the caught moments between the beating of times aging heart. To love, beyond the confines of physical need and know what my soul feels like. To know the shadows of intuition and the glaring streaks of butterfly dances as their wings scrape the surface of my heart sending it into rapid flutter. Oh to know love upon my mind, as the world becomes a treasured find. Now all darkness is dispelled to the confines of some great abyss that longer is a destination within me that exists.

ÂŠ 2016 Karen Hayward

POETS "ACRYLICS AND SMILES"

What shall i paint today...shall i paint the moon

smooth ...and gulls that screech! screech! and scream.. "where is my food"

in her pale yellow dress ...in soft tones of creams

maybe dolphins that leap to reach the sky tasting the salt

with the softest caress ....or maybe to paint her in

in their spray as they climb even higher

her purest form ..in whites Suppose i paint a portrait to tease the eyes ... of you ...with touches of overlay her with a hathe mona lisa lo ..showing her in a heav- showing through enly your hair as soft as light .. silk ..wrapped in a ribbon of blue. Maybe i'll paint the sun ..with a smile on his face with his rays spreading warmth to the human race ... Or perhaps i'll paint the blue of the sky in azure blue this i'll paint with a great sigh .....

I could paint the sea in ..deep indigo blue ..with ships that sail on her tide so

reflecting the colour of your eyes A smile i would paint asking the night to follow the day with teeth so white i would be blinded forever and a day .. WHAT SHALL I PAINT ON THIS BEAUTIFUL DAY ? Copyright ÂŠ ken newman

POET KEN NEWMAN Ken Newman was born in the United Kingdom and raised in the city of Portsmouth. He began serious painting after a major spine surgery. He also writes poetry verse and a few short stories

POETS Birth of a mother's love There is a timeless place A memory my spirit cannot recall perhaps the womb where creation began Too formless to explain or even understand energy building within connections firing off electrical pulses vibrations through ripples and currents of empty space Creating a warmth, a comfort

POET KIMBERLY LEUTHNER (HEART ARTS) Kimberly Leuthner. 40, grew up in Paramus, New Jersey, USA, with her brother Bret. She has been a constant student of art and design, which have been her life passion from the time she picked up her first crayon, and wrote her first lyric. She is hoping to publish soon, and dreams of organizing a coalition of artists to start a small art business for recovering addicts and special needs adults. She states, “The arts connect us all in ways that cannot be explained, and it is truly been my path and a lifelong labor of love, for which I am very grateful.”

Outside myself making its way in Glowing for the first time a feeling of being alive Warm water rushing over suddenly air sound light explode upon my soul The silent outward comfort turned quickly inward Out poured tears Being dizzied about blindly Confusion chaos

Then a calming voice a secure warm cradled embrace Soft touch of gentle hands upon my face a kiss upon my forehead felt like the sun upon my soul. -KRL (KIMBERLY LEUTHNER) © 2016 Kimberly Leuthner, Heart Arts

POETS

THE ROAD TO ETERNAL BLISS Here I stand at the end of the road the torch I'm holding lights my way back to you. Miles apart doesn't matter to me how far I will find my way back to you the road, I contemplate from experience to inspiration compels me to follow. Let the rain of doubts and the storms of confusion fall upon us after all, I know the rainbow of happiness dew drops of love and compassion within us bestow. Come! Take my hand walk with me let's build bridges and waterfalls cascading, sculpting our souls and love to eternal bliss.♥ © 2016 Marina Balmaceda Paredes

END OF THE ROW © 2016 Marina Balmaceda Paredes I can feel you everywhere your energy is in the air I just close my eyes and you are here I will bring you flowers till the last wheel breaks I will bring you flowers even when my life is at stake Is the ground cold, my love? let the green carpet embrace you When all the flowers are in bloom, I'll see you then...

QUOTES Mark Norris enriches our lives daily with quotes from famous authors, aphorisms which become the inspiration for the creation of new artistic and poetic expression.

“Nature only uses the longest threads

“Parents are like shuttles on a loom.

“Partial truths or half-truths

They join the threads of the past with

are often more insidious than

the threads of the future and leave

to weave her patterns, so that each small piece of her fabric reveals the organization of the entire tapestry.” — Richard P. Feynman

their own bright patterns as they go.”

total falsehoods.”

— Fred Rogers

— Samuel P. Huntington

“If we are to achieve a richer culture, rich in

“He who is false to the present duty

contrasting values, we must recognize the

breaks a thread in the loom, and you

whole gamut of human potentialities, and so weave a less arbitrary social fabric, one in

will see the effect when the weaving of

which each diverse human gift will find a

a life-time in unraveled.”

fitting place.” — Margaret Mead

— William Ellery Channing

“We all have our own life to pursue,

“We cannot live only for our-

our own kind of dream to be weaving,

selves. A thousand fibers con-

and we all have the power to make wishes come true, as long as we keep believing.” — Louisa May Alcott

nect us with our fellow men.” — Herman Melville

POETS Enigmatic Woman She sits in Solitude Never fearing Never tiring

Every wish of her own, is her own command She doesn't need another to fulfil her dreams Always Smiling upon her endless goals Sometimes she laughs at herself Laughter like a pebble thrown in a well Ohh ...she her head resting on her hand looking afar

POET NASREEN MALIK

Her emptiness does not bother her For it spills against her sides without an answer

Only she can understand herself People say she's peculiar She believes her life is hers She's the emotionally unavailable woman Yet she's beautifully absent in her own show Never tiring in her thoughts For she's set to accomplish her goals

ÂŠ 2016 Nasreen Malik

Sketch ÂŠ Nasreen Malik

Nasreen Malik makes her home in Kenya where she runs a small clothing business, selling ready made clothes to local families. Her presence makes a difference for the families in her community. She is a gifted poet and artist who makes a great contribution to our community.

COLLABORATIONS COLLABORATION Laughing Waters & Nasreen Malik Photo: Helena Dias Willow and River

Here I am a simple Willow Standing on the bank of River... Watching how River cuts its path... Going deeper and deeper into the Jungle The sounds of River's flowing waters So soothing to my ears; I am dropping my leaves Wishing maybe, one day, I could follow and see Something more than the open field I was born in Weeping willow, my friend, why so sad? Tell me why you drop colorful leaves in my water? Wasn't there even one day when I’ve wished I could Be like you staying still? But, always I must go Always going, not even one minute to stop I am running and you have this place to yourself. Such a beauty and peace. Oh! I wish, really wish I could be just like you, calm and peaceful As they talked, Little Bird came and landed On the branch of the tree by the water Hear her sing: I am a small little bird, flying where I please Maybe so, but I think I can help you So River and Tree let me see River, you, running deep in the Jungle Wash everything on your wide path: Stones... sticks...whatever mars your waters Till you reach the ocean and break In the big waterfall, falling into the waves

Tree you’re so tall and you’ve seen many years How I love to see you standing so tall You provide thick cool shade for so many; Animals always choose you when they Finish quenching their thirst for some water They will come to you and take a restful break So you see both of you have a life You should love and be thankful And I know that you will be agreed No matter how you came to this Peaceful world, everyone is important to Him Yes Creator has a plan and He knows that we all, Simple parts, are completing each other Yes we all are One. Listen to me! Be happy and be proud Each day is a precious gift So please believe That you and I are Brought to this life To celebrate His love We all are related; yes, we all are Important parts of the World So the bird flew away And the tree to this day is Still standing and Soaking the sun As the river still runs Deeper and deeper Into the Jungle © Narseen Malik & ©Laughing waters

COLLABORATIONS MARICRIS CABRERA & DAVID PALMER PHOTO CREDIT: MARICRIS CABRERA 2016 REFLECTIONS Light softens, and the air grows cool Yet the wind and waves break unabated. Upon this beach we reign like King and Queen Surveying our kingdom of the senses. "What is your wish," I fondly ask "What command your subjects must obey? But speak the words, and I will do To make your pleasure real." Lean down on me, my Amistad And we'll kiss under the moonlight We'll cuddle and whisper each other sweet words Let it witness our love, let this night Be a night of unforgettable moment. Our subjects will survive while we neglect Them awhile, and tend to more pressing Kingdom business. The strength of the throne, E’en what’s right with the world is bound in The power of our union. But after this moment Oh dearest of all, what next does thy royal heart Desire? Speak and it is yours and executed with Haste, upon the dedication of my deepest ardor. We’re destined to love each other Let alone the rush of the waves make a sound And let's make kisses seal our lips Savor our love with deep affection and warmth Let today be a beginning of dreams and hopes. Enough of play, let’s speak truth plain Of destiny, fate, dreams, gains and love For truly there is only one who binds my Errant pieces whole. This is the day, the life, The moment, we set our course across these waves And never return to port. Sail on because it’s right,

Sail on because it is true. Sail on because we need To find shelter in which we belong forevermore. Finally you came along broke the spell and set me free Right from the start you gave to me all I need my eyes well up, my heart sings of love and affection I gave up my loneliness you healed my broken heart you leave me breathless you just walked inside my dreams never ending words of caress you're the only one you're my everything I thank God that I met you even though the shore and waves are keeping us apart You will always be inside my heart. My heart beats for you and you alone thinking of you forever in my dreams and hopes hoping eternity and time will always be there. Then, indeed, Queen of my Heart, let us Leave behind that which hinders our true bliss And set our course upon the only trail Connecting our two hearts. No obstacle No objection, no phantom, no pretender To the throne of our souls will we ever let Be ensconced upon it. So then, upon this Way be never wavering straight on to glorious light. ©2016 David Palmer & Maricris Cabrera Photo Credit: Maricris Cabrera, 2016

POETS My SOUL has No Answers My Soul and I had a Meeting Stripped from all my belief systems Standing in Shock and Lots of Disappointment. Lies are being being told and the truths are Spun the other direction. Life in the MATRIX is not as IT Seems. There are strange beings who are pulling the strings. Their wicked agendas are being played out and winning all over the planet.

POET RIC DOWNING Ric Downing makes his home in Coral Cables, Florida and calls himself an “Artist, Creative Writer/ Lover of All Animals and Birds, Nature, Architecture, Technology, Art and Beauty. Seeking TRUTH and the Mysteries of LIFE.” He studied Architectural Studies at Philadelphia’s Temple University, and Music Management and Development at the Art Institute of Philadelphia. He breeds love birds and owns pugs. He is a Veteran, having served his country in the U.S. Navy.

I stand here stripped of all my belief systems Lost in time and in review of this ever evolving Planet. I wonder how we've come to this We're in the 21st Century and yet it appears we are going backwards. People are turning on each other, set up and programed by their Governments. Common sense has left the planet and the Insanity has set in. No one stands up to those in power Even those their Governments’ madness has reached a feverish pitch. I CRINGE at the thought of the upcoming future. As the Government dumb it's people down with daily sprayings of poisonous and toxic chemicals. Destroying the waters and the land, causing more cancers to all of the living. I choke back the tears with such disbelief at the INSANITY springing forth from the Darkness that is surrounding us. Greed and corruption is the norm, With the twisting of words that have become insane. I stand here stripped of all my belief systems. Wondering if this planet has much time left. AS my Soul has no answers. Written by Ric Downing Copyrights 9/8/2016

POETS "Poetry is" Poetry is a cool clear morning with a warm summer breeze, and the birds flying high In the sky while singing in the tall green trees. Poetry is the music we hear in the winter while the snow is falling down, it is all the stars in the night on a beach alone as you listen to the ocean’s waves as they make soothing sounds. Poetry is a newborn baby as it holds its mother tight while his father smiles uncontrollably at his brand new family and the beautiful sight. Poetry is the good times right now and in the past, and all of the memories of the true loves that did not get to last. Poetry is your child as they look you in straight in the eyes while knowing how much that they love you more than you ever could have ever realized. Poetry is something that you can taste, feel, and see, it will last forever and it will always be, Poetry Is in all of creation as far as you see, for Poetry lives inside of you and Poetry is me. Richard M Knittle Jr.© © A #Poets Journey

POET RICHARD M KNITTLE JR Richard M. Knittle, Jr. is a sixtime published author, five of them best sellers in their category on Amazon; a talk-show radio host and father to Ryder, his son, who is also his pride and joy. In 2014, he earned his Bachelor of Arts in Psychology from Argosy University, specializing in addiction. He has served as a Moderator here in Canvas for some time now and his poetry is eagerly anticipated. He has been nominated by the Texas State Legislature as a Poet Laureate of Texas, an award to be conferred in 2017.

POETS Mr. Robin

POET ROBERT ANDREWS Robert Andrews, 65, known as “Poetryman,” has written verse in several styles. His greatest joy is to make a broken heart smile, to elicit deep emotions will heal pain, to bring forth sweet memories. He also goes by the nom de plumes of Justin Sweetwater, The Weeping Poet of God (like Jeremiah), and Hartford’s Street Poet. He composes poems and reads them publicly for his church, sometimes as a “custom poet.” Committed to his faith, he believes that God owns his work and thus his copyright is always © By the Grace of God. His motto: “Be gentle, be humble, be kind, be healthy, be happy, be true to you.”

Mr. Robin’s tapping Upon my window pane If you are quiet You’ll hear him tap again “I am going away Before the next snowfall And when I do return I’ll give you a call.” I’ll truly miss my friend He called most every day With him I'd go outside Together we would play. He would fly around me Circle above my head I would feed him some worms Or maybe crusts of bread. Mr Robin's tapping Upon my window pane He'll be gone for winter In spring be back again. Robert Andrews, Poetryman © By the grace of God

POETS Communication is a function of trust it is not technique for without trust communication will always functions at half value And one will not be able to express their true heart And the roads of failed love will begin its March upon your days. You say how can One trust when so much distrust has been placed Upon the garden in which we walk upon I say learn to forgive self so forgiveness of others is true of heart live with forbearance of past present and future learn to forgive never forget what brought us to the place of desperate solitude Always remember where you came from so not trod back to upon the same roads of insanity the same path over and over again remember communication is a function of trust it is not technique for trust is the key to successful communication in all languages For if you do not trust failed love will begin its march upon your days without trust communication will always function at half value And your loved ones will never be able to express their true heart Memoirs of a mad mind Written by Sean Thomas Runyon art photography done by Sean Thomas Runyon Copyrights 2015

POET SEAN RUNYON Burnt Umber the color that shade of sadness that Has Rested upon the clusters of my ocean floor These colors dance Reflections of memories upon the eyes of my Mind like the birth of a child the sadness you have place upon me it has Stained Its memories upon my life forevermore marks of our sadness upon my burnt Umber floor Written by Sean Thomas Runyon ÂŠ 2016 art photography done by Sean Thomas Runyon thank you Kaitlyn for letting me take your photo

POETS POET SIB BORJIGIN

Sib Borjigin received her fine art education and now lives in the diverse-colorful city of Los Angeles, she is a painter, an interior decorator, a self-employed. Her artist’s core spirit roots deep and sprouts. Through recent years of exploring the beauty of marrying art and poetry, she is unfolding her poetic artistic vision.

Intruder

Nostalgia Was last night raining Cold and sopping Street lights dimming The night dampened in reminiscing Reflecting Sound of raindrops tapping Enduring All was deep seeping Full window’s nostalgic dripping Endless ending Nostalgia

Never did anyone enter From the other end of trail Thus to declare the footsteps we heard Up on an autumn hill Mellow gentle breeze stiffened into squinching tension Straining ears stretched for suspicions Perhaps the tip toes were sneaking within us The echo of virtue’s parting

Perpetual Total saturation

No accusation no confession Merely an older day slipped away with innocence Not returning ever since Leaving the question to that hill of haze Who was the intruder All rights: ©09-26-2015, Sib Borjigin

POETS

"I" of the Needle

Or the radiance of the sun greeting you with a smile each morning I am the darkness of your fears that gives life to your superstitions Burying you deep within walls of apprehension Reflecting your mirrored self back at you When you are richest in your poverty And poorest in your wealth For I am that gram of yourself that contains the vast cosmogony Of evolving realities peering into eternity Hoping to attain that everlasting dream by passing All that is me...that weight of a tear To tear through the "I" of the needle

I am that particle the weight of a gram In the ever unfolding universe of being A particle of thought that is living... breathing... thinking... questioning Trying to solve the big riddles in life While my feet are still anchored to the ground For you may deem me crazy and out of sound mind And perhaps I operate upon a different vibrational frequency That makes up the core of what it means to be me But that is not so For I am you and he and she I am the energy of stars sprinkled across the galaxy ÂŠ 2016 Skylark Hatee

POETS

POET STORMY ANGEL

A native of Minnesota, Stormy Angel began writing poems and short stories at the age of 12. A heartbreak at age 16 brought her writing to a stop, and, it was another tragedy, the loss of her father which launched her back into it again in 2013. She has a love for beautiful words and when she starts writing, they just flow. As an avid reader, books are an inspiration in her own writing. A favorite quote is: “I will forever love hard and completely, for the only thing more terrifying than the consequences, is the thought of losing that part of my soul."

Dream Weaver

two hearts that feel the same,

Let me weave a dream for you,

reaching out to one another,

about two souls tattered by time,

sharing the warmth of loves flame.

I’ll use threads from the heart,

A love that caresses their hearts,

one of yours and one of mine….

banishing all their despair,

Upon the loom two threads were placed,

born on the wings of angels,

a dream for me, a dream for you,

an answer to long ago prayers.

threads taken deep from the heart

Let me weave a dream for you,

and sprinkled with morning dew.

about two souls tattered by time,

As you drift on the waves of sleep,

I’ll use threads from the heart,

floating down enchanted streams,

one of yours and one of mine.

contentment and joy will be weaved,

Let this dream unfold my love,

into your delightful dreams.

open your heart to all you see,

A dream of two lost souls, alone and drifting for so long,

for this dream that’s been woven,

far apart, yet joined in love,

is a special weave to you, from me.

by a sweet angelic song.

Two souls that speak of love,

Registered: 2016-09-10 03:09-45 UTC

POETS Tanya Jean Williams was born and raised in Chicago, Illinois. Writing is her passion which she enjoys more than anything else. She loves writing poems, poetry rhymes, short stories and posting quotes from favorite authors and inspiring people. She has been writing for several years and says, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Once I have my pen in my hand, I never put it down. That is when my addiction is the strongest. Tanya Jean Williams Loves, and Enjoy Writing Poetry, and Short Story's such as; Horror, Thriller, Romance, and Fiction Story's. She has been Writing for years off, and on as a Hobby, and now she is taking it a step further. She put her Heart, and her Soul into her Writing whereas readers can Enjoy her Work, and Enjoy the Passion that she holds within. Tanya also Loves Romance, and she Loves the Beautiful things in Life. She shows it through Words of Expressions on her page

POET TANYA JEAN WILLIAMS

POETS

POET TILAK SHANKAR MUKHERJEE

Tilak Shankar Mukherjee, makes his home in West Bengal, India. A graduate from The University of Kolkata, he has served as an Assistant Teacher in English for 29 years. Poetry is his passion, which he considers to be his Diaries where he speaks from the heart. He also has a love for photography.

PEACEFUL COEXISTENCE

we believe in peaceful coexistence.

Behold us! Treat us no more with jeer and neglect rather treat us with care and respect. Speak words of love and compassion and treat us with love and affection, as we deserve so because we believe in peaceful coexistence.

Remember! That our Creator gave you your own life, and us our own- so please let us live ours in our own way. If we can live in this way, why can’t you do the same? Stop squabbling over small things and bury the hatchet among yourselves. Look at us! We are unique. We are different because - we believe in peaceful coexistence.

See our beautiful body and soul, rather waiting to see us disfigured. We don’t want to be treated as human being – because we have life that needs to be lived in its own way. Free your body free your soul and talk to us with dignity as-

POETS Urban gypsie is an artist and poet from Edinburgh Scotland, 50, father to five daughters and one son, and a five time grandfather. He has worked in construction, civil engineering as well as traveling fares and circuses. He has been a boxer and fought in unlicensed fights throughout the United Kingdom and Ireland. Today, he is retired from the ring but still is involved in training fighters. He volunteers for animal charities and does work for the homeless. He would like to publish and set up my own art company.

POET URBAN GYPSIE Better man Today I'll be a better man to make a better day I will listen first to understand whoever speaks to me My mind it will be open to whatever comes my way My mouth remains unspoken until I know just what to say These eyes of mine will look at you and accept you as you are To let you see this love in me that I offer you to share And everywhere I go today I will treat everyone I meet To this better man I found in me before I hit the street xx Poem written by urban gypsie Art by urban gypsie All work and photo credit (c) 2016 urban gypsie art

POETS

Have you ever wondered

Who will hold my hand n Never let it go Even when it's so easy too

POET VICTOR GARCIA Victor Javier Garcia, 36, was born in Rio Grande City, Texas, and is a proud MexicanAmerican. He is the father of two daughters. He has worked in construction and agricultural trades. He has traveled extensively throughout the United States and several times to Europe. He loves to debate, to think and to write.

Despite what the world says Or make it seem so He or she doesn't care All they want is to Spend their life with you For they know They found the one They found YOU

ÂŠ Victor Javier Garcia 2016

fall at will leaves ÂŠ Fractled

Our 2nd Structured Poetry Class in our Community has been Octoberâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s haiku class. Here is but a sample of what we have been enjoying!

Vento colorido Congelada no tempo Apreciando ... feliz! ÂŠ Elinete B. B. Mocidade

mother's milk still fresh on his lips innocent smile fuzzy dandelion caught in the breeze my little boy's hair sandcastle swallows the waves my footprints

stormy seafoam

Jasmine lips soaking morning dew my white dress

my white dress nibbles cold breeze from the passing car

sweet citrus orchards cocktails and marmalade

from the passing car silence rattles emptiness

season’s greetings

emptiness filled with droplets river moss river moss draping gray body mountain rock mountain rock shelters my body from northern wind

Twilight Gentle starshine Flickers ever brightly Glitter pulsates nightfalls descent Gloaming Mal ward ÂŠ

Autumn Changing colors Burning Ruska dancing Fearless falling, constant twirling Maple September 2016(c)Laughing waters willow stretching downward shelter shading around hairlike dangling blowing carefree shade tree

C 2016 Robert Gillette

Rainfall Droplets dripping Coating petals galore Sleekly shining silver singing Water #cinquain Mal. Ward ÂŠ

moonlight reflected sun pushing pulling sea swells transcending surreal darkness waning © Garry Spooner 17 September 2016

Music is one of the deepest means of expression, and Transformation Earth is about using this form of expression to bring about positivity, peace, love, and to uplift the world. Influenced by all genres of music and expressing beauty to inspire others.

Music Artist in Residence Canvas to My Soul Public Sight LINK to download Transformation Earth’s Song “Catch Your Tears” Whose lyrics are on the next page https://www.dropbox.com/s/qvxrl2dkj0j81qv/Catch%20Your%20Tears% 20Remastered.mp3?dl=1

LINK to Listen to the Song on the Website https://transformationearthmusic.wordpress.com/2016/06/02/catch-yourtears-remastered/

Catch Your Tears

If we only knew

I'll catch your tears in my hands I'll take your fears with my breath

My Dear friend Why do you use those words On your sisters and brothers If you knew how much they hurt Then you would see

My Dear friend Why do you use that gun On your sisters and brothers? If you look you will see My Dear friend They're not you're enemy Why do you use that power My tears fall upon the On your sisters and earth brothers? For my sisters and broth- Do you feel that youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re so ers high Who don't know who they When they're so low? are So confused I'll catch your tears in my hands We don't know what we're I'll take your fears with my worth breath Our hearts are made of wonder ÂŠ2016 by Transformation Full of light inside Earth

ART GALLERY

Jewel Ragheb OUR GLORY Let me put my hand in yours Let's go to the glory of the world to the place we were born where all the greatest ones are sitting there my intuition says that i am a piece of you we met without appointment the first HELLO was the key to our souls I opened you all my closed doors I painted you my paintings in bright colours...to give you a smile show I played you a symphony of all seasons I wrote you a sweet sonnet full of beautiful love words I wrote it by my fingers.. I wrote it on my lips I sent it by sweet soft breeze.... Only to touch your cheeks CopyrightÂŠpainting and poem Doreia Jewel Ragheb

Life doesn't mean persons.... But one person means the life OIL ON CANVAS

ART GALLERY

Ken Newman

ART GALLERY

KIMBERLY LEUTHNER

ART GALLERY

URBAN GYPSIE This space ☺xx This space in my heart is for you You’re welcome to look inside Everything of me on view I really have nothing to hide The scars of my past although ugly Tell a story no doubt you know well About what we endure on life's journey Personal heaven or hell You see in my heart there is kindness Acceptance of how you are now It's honest enough to be shameless And has all its weakness on show So now you can see what I offer Your welcome so just take your time This space you and i share together Will help us to open our minds ☺xx Poem written by urban gypsie Art by urban gypsie Photo credit and all works (c) 2016 urban gypsie art

MISCELLANEOUS POETS The Lenape Songs # 9 warm rain grandfather of the people;

AS THE SEASONS SLOWLY PASS

But the fall

The summer

And make amends.

Will come

Lenape songs

Is mostly gone.

once lifted the leaves

The kids are back

Where marigolds

along the Delaware

In school.

Once bloomed

The morning air

The mums will begin

Is cool.

To play their tunes;

some of the smoke from a circle of fire turned the leaves red and they fell ... autumn in the corn feathered clouds

and the winter sky stripped of its warmth shines through the branches a little ice is left from the rain

And leaves of green The flowers

Will slowly trend

Are slowly

To yellows

Turning brown.

And orange

The leaves

And reds

Are slowly

Instead.

Falling down.

The beauty never ends

Still a month

there are bits of straw

To go;

twisted round and emptied;

But the flowers

these are the old nests

Surely know

that were made in the spring for our children in seashells, in the waves where a child's foot might step at twilight ÂŠ Edwin Lomere 2015

As their blooms Begin to slow. The summerâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s beauty Will come To an end;

As our journey rounds Each bend. But the scenes Simply cannot last

As the seasons slowly pass. From: Sing A New Psalm 2016 . Tom Poteet

MISCELLANEOUS POETS Great Weeks Ahead Early in the morning, just about breakfast time, comb my hair, and wash my face just for that gal of mine.

Sit down at the table, taters, and some eggs, what gets my heart to pumpin’ is lookin at her legs. Grab my lunch, and head to work, she meets me at the door, tell her that I love her, she says she loves me more. Out on the highway remembering her smile, thinking bout my darlin’ helps me while away the miles. Working hard, and sweatin’, aching to my bones, I'm waiting for that whistle so I can head back home. She greets me at the door, and climbs into my arms, know that I'm in heaven

when I'm lost within her charms. We're waiting on the weekend so we can get away, sharing all my time with her just makes for perfect days. Early in the morning, just about breakfast time, comb my hair, and wash my face just for that gal of mine. Copyright © 2016 by Rusty Rimes #RustyRimes

Sorrow is-the bird perched on the tree of pain, -the bubbles of breath of drowning Ophelia, -the last gasp of strangled Desdemona, -the embroidery on the shroud of darkness, -the unsung song of supressed sighs, -the tears of my mother frozen in my eyes. © Poet Desh

MISCELLANEOUS POETS Your Love for Me

Your love for me is purer than the finest gold Looking unto You as my guide from up above The beauty of Your face would I like to behold

You see me as Your own, a princess beloved This the truest story of how our love unfolds My peace and tranquility, my King and dove Your love so mighty, the fiercest and so bold What can separate me from Your sweet love? You, the potter, I'm the clay that You mould I am the masterpiece of Your stubborn love

I Woke to Wake I woke to wake to know in heaven there will be no price to pay, love will be rightfully ours. I woke to wake to know we choose to be as humanly possible, humane despite the discomfort. I woke to wake to know that a flutter in step with my spirit sent me back to center to soar. I woke to wake in peace because the sun also rose to rise to show the colors in the shadows.

I am the pearl of great price, Your dear beloved

I woke to wake to rise to know stars blink together from within with ever living light,

I'm Your treasure for which everything You sold

in harmony like us…in the universe from within there is no without as in everlasting.

This love of ours, already written and foretold

I'm Your work of art and the labour of Your love Forever in the depthness of Your love to enfold Your love for me is costlier than the finest gold

I woke to wake we do the tasks, smile at all the unknowing because no matters matter more. I woke to wake to know the slumber is over, the sadness is gone,

I trust we will always find one another. Nicoleta I. Neagoy (c) 6-16-2016

Look for our Second Issue of inSIGHT On January 15, 2017 Submission Opportunities available from

November 5—December 5 Special Themes: Lunar New Year, Valentine’s Day, Mardi Gras, Special Poetry Classes