BARDS

From the trouble of the world I turn to Bards,

Away from broken dreams of shattered shards,

Those scribes whom cosset my weary old soul,

It´s to them I go, to make me once again whole.

I seek rhymed succour, in their soft imbibed words,

I sip from their chalices & fly high with their birds,

I lay prone sweating, on their beds of vowed love,

When I am broken, with verse, they lift me above.

When battered & tattered, by broken promise & rain,

When stamped on & slapped, with words of cruel pain,

And when my life is unbearable & so intolerably hard,

I turn in my yearning, to my only friend, true & loyal Bard.

POETRY BY - SUE LOBO ©:

I SAW HIM:

I saw him one Spring, sitting alone on the street,

A lonesome stranger, I was never destined to meet,

I saw him again in Summer, at the very same place,

With history in his eyes, & the past upon his old face,

I saw him in Autumn, in same place, & also same time,

Huddled against winds, etched in street’s greying grime,

I saw him the last time in Winter, lost in a flurry of snow,

Merely mirage of a man I saw, yet never destined to know.

POETRY BY - SUE LOBO ©

THORNS

Was it some hidden desire, disease or sin? The Bible does not 

say,

But there was a "thorn in his flesh" that bothered Paul, so he’d 

pray.

God would not remove this, despite being all powerful and 

omniscient,

And, knowing a servant's weakness, said only, His grace was 

sufficient.

No one knows of the thorn in Paul's flesh, only why it was left 

neglected.

It was to show God's strength, which through a weakness was 

perfected.

Now, Paul had prayed three times about this thorn, he had dealt 

with it that long,

Though it was a weakness, he wasn't condemned for it, God’s 

grace being strong,

Knowing God would not let this weakness separate them 

must've been a relief.

That God doesn't condemn a believer's weaknesses, if in such a 

grace is belief.

Maybe, just maybe, Christians should think twice before holding 

others with scorn.

God's grace might be sufficient for them too, if a weakness to 

their flesh be a thorn.

So, before frightening another believer with any notions of 

hell's fires to burn,

Maybe we should remember that the merciful are blessed 

with mercy in return!

-Philip Kent Church

The Show

Alexander. "Life is the farce carried out by everyone." .....Arthur Rimbaud. (3/8/21)

Heyya! Heyya! Heyya!

Come one, come all!

You're all cordially invited to join the show!

We have something for everyone!

(The few get the most, less to the rest).

See the exibits, ride the rides!

Watch the performances and dramas,

All played out on a global stage.

A continuous world wide performance,

With politics, pandemics, commerce over conscience.

Audience participation a must!

We offer a diverse venue of traumas, dramas and plot twists!

Conspiracy theories are always welcome!

(That's entertainment!)

Watch the military industrial complex dance!

Their amazing undulations, while spinning rationalization!

See it all and bring the kids!

We have features for them as well!

Everything from human trafficking,

Genocide by gender, faith, or ethnicity,

And (of course) child labor horrors!

A never ending drama within the backdrop

Of a failing environment!

And as I stated before,

Audience participation a must!

So, come one and come all!

See profits rise above people,

Something for everyone!

(The few get the most, less to the rest)

Heyya! Heyya! Heyya!

Everyone has a part!

A continuous world wide performance!

(That's entertainment!)

Enjoy the show.

-Stanley Phillips

The Never Ending

Life was a test,

I took it

Failure or success.

.

So it became a lesson,

I learnt from it.

Why quit now?

.

So it became an experience,

I made use of it.

Things were about to change.

.

So it became a task,

I had to finish,

From old scars to new stars.

.

So it became time,

I must be patient with it

Think it through and start small.

.

And patience becomes task.

I have to take... again

For life is a never ending cycle.

.

©Kiyomi 2021

WHAT COULD YOU HAVE DONE?

So great is life when it is seen

in what is felt from past to now.

Where is your placement in this crowd

from distant past to our world?

There were some people who saw Christ.

They believed in Him but kept quiet.

Some followed, some called for the cross.

Where could you have been in this course?

Some saw the marvels which He did

but were afraid to be beside.

Could you have said that He was God

as who said it then he was killed?

The crippled walked, the blind could see,

the dead came back to be alive.

You saw all that, could you defend,

or you believed but in your heart?

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Unpredictable

life is a story that tells itself

in silver portals and black wagons

where bluedrop spiders reign

and corpses are hidden

in the waste of the night

where black angels

are creatures with

dangerous hearts

and chilling secrets

men live and die - bruised by life

they never quench their thirst

to fulfill their dreams or satisfy

their appetites or desires –

still, rivers will flow

and tides will run

hearts will be drowned

in unpredictable streams

of dwindling happiness

JEANETTE NEL LE ROUX

Copyright reserved