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Welcome to Poetry Corner

Poetry Corner is a space for poets and lovers of poetry to have their work published and read other's poetry, connect with readers and poets.

Best of all, it is totally free to submit your work, there is no specific topic or word limit, just a great place to collaborate with readers and poets and get your work published.

Submissions are received by email, elisebrooke771@gmail.com

  

 

If you know of any other poetry or prose writers interested in submitting their work, please pass the word around and let's grow our “Poetry Corner.”

Our Poets

Michel Lee Johnson

Michael Lee Johnson lived ten years in Canada during the Vietnam era and is a dual citizen of the United States and Canada. Today he is a poet, freelance writer, amateur photographer, and small business owner in Itasca, DuPage County, Illinois. Mr. Johnson is published in more than 2033 new publications. His poems have appeared in 41 countries; he edits and publishes ten poetry sites. He is the administrator of six Facebook poetry groups; he has several new poetry chapbooks coming out soon. He has over 533 published poems to date. Michael Lee Johnson has been nominated for 2 Pushcart Prize awards poetry 2015/1 Best of the Net 2016/2 Best of the Net 2017, 2 Best of the Net 2018. Two hundred thirty-one poetry videos are now on YouTube https://www.youtube.com/user/poetrymanusa/videos. Editor-in-chief poetry anthology, Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze: http://www.amazon.com/dp/1530456762; editor-in-chief poetry anthology, Dandelion in a Vase of Roses available here https://www.amazon.com/dp/1545352089. Editor-in-chief Warriors with Wings: The Best in Contemporary Poetry, http://www.amazon.com/dp/1722130717

https://www.amazon.com/Michael-Lee-Johnson/e/B0055HTMBQ%3Fref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share

https://www.lulu.com/shop/search.ep?keyWords=Michael+Lee+Johnson&type=. Member Illinois State Poetry Society: http://www.illinoispoets.org/.  Do not forget to consider me for Best of the Net or Pushcart nominations.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Showers & Rain

By Michel Lee Johnson

 

I’d like to see you in showers,

shadows, memories, final hours

that end this rain.

Daisies reveal your simple secrets,

yellow perverted pleasures, complicated,

often unseen mysteries like

COVID-19 virus.

Forget your sins & dance with me.

All petals at some point fall

in season come to despair

same as a desperate ending.

I focus on memories now,

represent all short stories shared,

a poem or two no one will remember,

a Hemingway legacy funeral,

one family member,

one suicide at a time. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Death Certificates

By Michel Lee Johnson

 

We all wait for our death certificates—

aging bodies, sagging arms, necks with wrinkles.

We drag our bodies around shopping malls

in all shapes, funny forms, walk

around in tennis shoes early mornings.

Don’t stretch out here too far.

Just get our groceries, see our grandchildren,

Lucky Charms, no witchcraft, but Jesus

finds our way home.

 

 

 

 

 

Kansas, Old Abandoned House (V4)

By Michel Lee Johnson

(Photo Available/Ekphrastic poem)

 

House, weathered, bashed in grays, spiders,

homespun surrounding yellows and pinks

on a Kansas, prairie appears lonely tonight.

The human theater lives once lived here

inside are gone now,

buried in the back, dark trail

behind that old outhouse.

Old wood chipper in the shed, rustic, worn, no gas, no thunder, no sound.

Remember the old coal bin, now open to the wind, 

but no one left to shovel the coal.

Pumpkin patches, corn mazes, hayrides all gone.

Deserted ghostly children still swing abandoned in the prairie wind.

All unheated rooms no longer have children

to fret about, cheerleaders have long gone,

the banal house chills once again. It is winter,

three lone skinny crows perched out of sight

on barren branched trees silhouetted in early morning

hints of pink, those blues, wait with hunger strikes as winter

that snow starts to settle in against moonlight skies.

Kansas becomes a quiet place when those first snowfalls.

There is the dancing of the crows−

that lonely wind, that creaking of the doors, no oil in the joints.

Jasper (V4)

Michel Lee Johnson

 

Old Irving Park,

Chicago neighborhood

Jasper lives in a garret

no bigger than a single bed.

Jasper, 69, clouds of smoke

Lucky Strike unfiltered cigarettes.

He dips Oreo cookies in skim milk.

Six months ago, 

the state revoked

his driver’s license-

between the onset 

of macular degeneration,

gas at $4.65 a gallon,

and late-stage emphysema,

life for Jasper has stalled out

in the middle lane,

like his middle month

social security check, it is gone.

There is nothing academic about Jasper’s life.

Today the mailbox journey is down

the spiraling stairwell; midway,

he leans against the wall.

Deep breaths from his oxygen tank.

Life is annoying with plastic tubes up his nose.

Relief, back in the attic, with just his oxygen tank,

his Chicago Cubs, losers, are playing

on his radio, WGN, 720 AM.

Equipment, enjoyment at last,

Jasper leans back in his La-Z-Boy recliner.

He reaches for a new pack of Lucky Strike cigarettes.

Jasper grabs a lukewarm Budweiser beer from his mini-fridge.

Deep breaths, a match lit near his oxygen tank.

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Amrita Valan

Early Love

 

Early love is sundance

In mid-air

Just before the rays ravish earth

Just before they warm 

The human hearth

It is dawn

Crispy clean, pristine, ,

New hope's sweet beginnings.

 

Early love is a dream

That puts out a bud

Tender tentative true.

Yet to blossom 

Passionflowers

Or connect with gnarly roots.

 

Early love is breathless anticipation

The thrill of the chase for some

For me, it is the slow promise of fruition

Riding the rising arc of the swing 

Before it climaxes in

Heart-stopping zenith

To start a swift downward spiral,

Touching base with reality.

 

Glimpse of bliss

Blue, white infinity,

Early love is trust, not a touchdown

A slow burn lingering start 

Gnosis of the rich treasury to plunder

A tryst with sun entrenched kiss.

 

(c) Amrita Valan 2020

Photo Credit:Trent Haaland Unsplash

 

 

 

 

 

Forests - Restless New Leaves

 

Tender tight rolls of green leaves slowly emerge

 

Feeding off sunlight galore

 

Shy no more, they open up, budding

 

Green scholars of heavenly wisdom

 

The lovely moist green ripens, reaping 

 

Bright sun stroked yellows,

 

The blazing fire of carnal cornucopia

 

Spread word through the forests,

 

Psst!

 

Restless new leaves

Rustle and crackle,

 

Whispers in ephemeral woods

Of advent,

 

Of a rustic ravishing beauty

 

In a frenzy of yellow-red gold dappled fire,

 

These nymphs of nature conspire, 

 

Run amok on Spring

Drunken with Sunshine saké

 

Bellissima leaves and leaflets are outdoing flowers today

 

They adorn woods and dales, glens and copses, 

 

Tchaikovsky's bewitching ballerinas 

Tagore's lovely sparkling damsels,

 

Even the bleached yellow old maids 

 

And rusty red-cheeked wenches

 

Flitter and flutter 

 

Glitter on their skin

 

flirtatious hot tamales

Chasing butterflies drunk on mead

 

What a bacchanalia

In the gold-hued breeze!

 

Who is coming, 

I wonder,

 

 In this eternal cyclic wake,

 

Of Nature's ephemeral tease?

 

 

© Amrita Valan 2021

Photo Credit: Kunal Shinde Unsplash

Cracks in the Faultline – by Del Gibson

 

There’s a Faultline and its running through my heart, and there’s a freight train coming for me, my love, the end the start, is always magic until it finally all falls apart, and I am waiting, watching, living a nightmare, hear my words as I depart.

The voices whisper and yell at me, telling me I will soon be dead, hey you! Is there a god? If so please, let me know that you are here, so I can be safe in the knowledge that I don’t have to live here in this fear.

The ghosts they live, and they are touching me, frightening me, creeping in the night, they crawl, they slither, creeping through my head, my body, and my sight, is inhibited, and blurred, there is something here not right.  

Crack me open, open me up and have a taste of what I see. Am I the monster in the mirror there staring back at me? All the pain, all the love, all the torment in my dreams, turn into nightmares, turn into anguish, turn into torturous, vicious screams.

Coming from deep inside I try to hide I know this might end bad, all of these tears, my fears they screw with my head and I know it’s very sad when I see myself a shell of the person I have now become, no more rain, no pain, no moon, no more languishing in the sun.

I am afraid and my anxiety makes it so I can never leave the house, hiding away, pitter-pattering in this tomb-like I’m a frightened little mouse, too scared to admit I messed it all up by letting myself go, and I am too unwell and messed in the head to even let it show.

Life flows and ebbs and it has been said we seek what we miss most, in the dark, in the night, someday I just might leave this place and heal my soul, heal my wounds, heal the scars, though I think when I look I’ll see, it was me the whole entire time destroying my life for me.

It doesn’t take a scientist to know what we give out comes back to us three-fold, what we think comes out in words, what we say comes out in hurt.

Memories they break us, make us, feel the tears I cry, under the ground, and six feet deep beneath the soil I lie, it was fun while it lasted, now my words have just been blasted, and although my words are deep, we always sow what we do reap.

 

Copyright © Gibson, Del 2021

POISON – by Del Gibson

 

Hey there,

I’ve got something on my mind.

And there are people,

I’m gonna have to leave behind.

But hey,

If that’s the way it’s got to be,

In the mirror, I see myself, and my heart bleeds.

Facing monsters in my head that are my family,

Ripping chunks and bits and pieces. Take it all from me.

 

Deep inside me,

The ghosts are coming home.

I feel them creeping, cracking, screaming, breaking every single bone.

 

The silence is deadly.

The night is heavy.

My head is splitting in two.

I’m getting really sick.

I think that I’ve been,

Poisoned in the head.

By your words,

Your broken promises,

And every word you’ve ever said.

It makes me sick knowing,

You’ve got a way with murder,

Why?

And now I’m dead,

Inside.

Taking poison just to hide.

You took my soul,

You broke my heart,

You killed my dreams,

Ripped me apart.

You are toxic, violent, lying, hurting, hating on me.

You are not my friend or lover,

You are now my enemy–poison.

 

Copyright © Gibson, Del 2021

Save my Soul –  by Del Gibson

 

In the night I scream, is this a nightmare or just another dream?

Counting shadows around my room, I fear their presence; feeling doomed.

 

Cast their darkness, spread their fear, at the end of the bed they near.

In my fright I cannot move, the lights flicker in the room.

On the ceiling, they crawl across the floor, along the wall.

 

Knock, knock, knocking in my head

Bang, bang, banging, am I dead?

 

The mist it spreads, it doesn’t take me long to discover that something is very, very wrong.

 

Distorted faces in my face it smells of death my heartbeat races in the darkness it takes me places through my fear I can taste it, my bed is shaking the room is spinning the ghosts are pacing my head is hurting.

 

Will I wake from this, I wonder?

Outside my window, the rain and thunder.

Lord, bring me mercy tonight, bring me back into the light.

Save my soul, I ask you this, give me release and endless bliss.

 

Copyright © Gibson, Del 2021

Michael D. Kellett

Poem One

Upon a bitter dream, we live

A mountain echo we become

A shadow of what once we were

With nothing left to give

 

We stand upon a silent shore

The seagulls lofted high above

In a daydream, stance w idle there

While we do ignore

 

But soon we’re called to wakefulness

To strange sights never seen before

We fight and struggle mightily

And try and pass the test

 

All dream worlds always have their place

And oftentimes we must escape

To rest our tired and weary mind

And slow our driving haste,

 

But always we must ready be

For life is full of twists and turns

And any road we’re forced to take

Cannot be driven idly

Poem 2

Life isn’t full of red roses in bloom

It is not a game won by chance

And nothing worthwhile is ever done

If left to happenstance

 

Bumps on life’s roadway aren’t smoothed with a wish

And mountains aren’t climbed by a dream

An effort is needed for things great and small

And all of those things in between

 

Never a job will be started and done

If you think that you do not know how

And everything takes on a satisfying hue,

With a measure of sweat on the brow

Peace on Earth

 

“Peace on earth and goodwill toward men,”

The angel was heard to say

The message, alas, has now been lost

Discarded along our way,

 

Man is on a mission from which he can’t turn,

A mission too much in demand

As he works and works for brand new ways,

To kill his fellow man

 

Is all our hope gone in this fast-paced world?

Have things worked out for the good?

Could we right the things we know are wrong

If we did the things we should?

 

Or are we all doomed to our selfishness

As we rush headlong into the day?

And are we not guilty of stabbing wounds

When we don’t watch the things we say?

 

Answers don’t come from the TV set

Or from the writer’s pen

The angel said, “Peace on earth,

Peace and goodwill toward men.”

Sunset of Red Roses

By Rebeca Aguila

 

 

 Beautiful nevertheless, thorny. The color of love, beauty, affection, and passion. What could this elegant yet delicate flower symbolize? A secret? Romance? A secret lover, perhaps? Woe is for me to let my mind wander in this manner. A rose can be mysterious yet compelling to the eye of the beholder. The colorful perfume of an exquisite and impeccable blossom infusing the timeless fragrance of a classy as well as dashing floret. Touching a petal from this fragile flower is magical. In the aspect of cloth, it feels as if you were wrapped in a silky cotton, hugging you like a summer breeze. Whenever someone sees a red bloom, what they hear? Robins singing? Paint doused on a canvas? A heart beating? To me, a rose means everything to me

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ADDICTION
BY
KAREN RACHEL KENNEDY
AKA KARINA


What's it going to take to help you fight the blues,
Where in your mind, it's a snooze, & all you do is lost; 

To fairy dust up your nose, it's ruining your life, a prisoner to the booze, which invokes the coke, & all you do is cruise; 

From day to night, night to day,
It's all a blur, your heart is bare.
You're caught up in a snare,
A victim in despair; 

When are you going to wake up, 
To the people who really care,
While you kill all of your dreams,
Buried inside your screams; 

You're only fooling yourself,
The coke has got you trapped.
While life is passing you by,
I wonder what makes you cry,
Not the fact that your kids are sad,
Where is our dear Dad; 

Or your brother whose heart is aching,
For the brother who is forsaking,
The love & care he needs,
While the inside of your heart just bleeds,
For a time when life was bliss,
Don't you miss a tender kiss; 

All I can do is pray, while your life's in disarray.
But you need real help now darling,
Pushing us away is not the answer for today; 

Do I send this verse to you,
You can make fun of this, it's true.
But the person you're hurting the most is simply, only you; 

So reach down deep inside, let go of your precious pride. 
coz that ain't gonna help you much, you've got to get back in touch,
And face reality today, because life's too precious for you to stay.
in an addicted world that's fueled with fear.
Because the coke has made you steer,
Into a world of madness, sadness & mayhem,
You know it's time for help; you need a safe haven; 

But it's up to you it's true, there's only so much we can do, while you deny the facts, 
It's not too late to get off this beaten track; 

But I fear for you, it's true, how can your body renew, 
when day after day, you deny, while we can all hear, your heartbreaking cries; 

By the silence that's so pervasive, your absence is not persuasive.
for it shows us all, it's true, we all know you feel so blue; 

So reach out for us, we're here, 
we care so much, it's clear, 
But only you can take the first step. I know it's the barrier that's left; 

but you know how life is for living, take a leap of faith, otherwise, the coke will start it's killing,
For you have much to do, start realizing it's true.
Then maybe life can help you too, on a better path that's new, I pray you take it too! 

Love

By Dhananjay Singh

 

Love is a string of emotions.

Love runs in nerves with strong vibrations.

Sometimes love hurts.

At other times, love bursts.

Remember that love never ends.

All lifelong love sustains.

People ask why do we love?

Friends, this is the Twenty-First Century.

Emotions are fake.

And love is imperfect.

THE CLIFF OF DEATH – by Del Gibson

Flying through a cloud of emptiness,
soft shadows of dark caress
my solo flight is becoming
the sweet solitude enriching
the pale glow enchanting.

Along a path of glass, I walk
lonely as a stranger in the night
and as lost as a blind man in the light
yet I have chosen to walk this path alone.

On a journey to pure simplicity,
stumbling gently on sands of fire
shall I stand on the ground so warm and familiar?
to stand on these legs would surely mean
that I will be walking alone again.

To wither like the autumn leaf
portrays a picture of satisfaction
I stand upon feet of clay
through a sprinkle of sunset dust
upon the never-ending road of desert stones
silently gathering frostbitten memories
of how grand life once was
and how beautiful it should have been.

Oceans

Pranaw Santvan

Inside, we carried

two different seas

But when my palms

clenched your fingers,

our tides were 

found in each other's

Oceans

 

 

 

Love crumpled down

 

The world crumpled down.

Bits and pieces flew left to mourn.

Love was never a way of my own.

Love was just the beginning, only to kindle the growing.

By Shehashree

The Poor by Ritika Khattar

 

WE DON’T  NEED TO BE FILTHY RICH OR LOADED TO HELP THE NEEDY THE POOR AND THE HUNGRY. ALL WE NEED IS TO HAVE A GOOD HEART.

Sometimes the one who drives your expensive car goes home walking

Bearing all the unjust, violence, and mocking.

The one who guards crores of your money doesn’t get his money on time

Why isn’t beating an impoverished- lower class or denying them a livelihood a crime?

Sometimes the one who delivers the pizza to you in 30 minutes sleeps empty stomach

 And you think the money in your pocket makes you superior. Ugh.

Sometimes the one who makes your tall buildings has a roof leaking when it’s raining.

They treat you with love and respect, even when they’re drowsy and draining.

When fate hands us money, let’s help them

and the ones who mistreat the poor will be condemned

Ask your worker if you could quench his thirst

Whoever has a bountiful eye will be blessed

For he shares his bread with the poor

After all, they have a right to be treated with love, respect, and honor.

This world is filled with givers and takers.

The takers might eat greater

But the givers sure sleep better.

 

Light by Ritik Aggarwal

 

Lost confidence in his stature fell into a dark pit,

Confused and stricken needed closure as the story unraveled bit by bit.

Everything happened when progressing to a new stage where opportunities and doubts were all in place,

Deep down his self-belief was in a cage, trying to climb and recognizing he still has all to chase.

Took decisions to bring out some light is still trying to stand out from the crowd,

 But will someday take the flight struggles but negative emotions will still keep him under the cloud.

Decisions will be questioned and will want to stop,

He has been destined to cry; he doesn’t have an option to pause. 

Continuing the same path hefty burden still lies with him as pain, 

In hope he was reminiscent of his past and what all he gained.

Reminiscing changed to recognition of self and he soon realized the error of the ways he took the right,

Yet difficult decisions in life, but tumbled down because he lost the light. 

He picked up the pieces and started his new goal to take a plunge over the cloud,

Laziness, doubts, and delays were obstacles he faced, to name a few

he rekindled his candle and realized his faith to make himself accomplished and proud.

Lost Humanity by Arushi Sharma

 

Humans lost the tint of humanity,

Gave up on love, respect, and sanity,

They got hooked up on vanity,

Gave up on benevolence and chose inanity,

They say they belong to Gen-alpha or Gen-Z,

They made the science of everything easy,

No doubt though; but there’s more to see,

In this era of a surge of modernization,

They just lost the ability to realize,

Surely, you come and ask anyone,

Everyone is hurt by someone,

See the youth having mental health issues,

And everybody’s blind to the happy cues,

Different opinions building up dominant views,

And the unwillingness to be in someone else’s shoes,

Intolerance, aggression and irritability, and lust.

All I can find is total instability and broken trust.

See the shattered faiths and cold hearts,

Fake faces; hollow relations with hoax starts,

Bewildered hopes and hyped lunacy,

All I can see is disappearing courtesy,

And dying emotions with unneeded ferocity.

The ‘oh-so-cool savagery and vanishing generosity,

Deteriorating inner peace and declining productivity,

The boost in soreness of hearts and discarded proclivity,

Fading smiles and absurd words,

Growing greed and desire for perks,

Individuality as a concept is misinterpreted,

And the youth is walking all unregretted,

Humans were supposed to be sagacious,

But you witness them being all malicious,

The sensitives keep on hurting on and on,

And the poor keep suffering on and on,

The strong don’t show empathy,

The rich don’t show sympathy,

All that is dominating is psychopathy,

All that is flourishing is sociopathy,

See; the extinction of humbleness and gratitude,

Is replaced by the evolution of ego and toxic attitude,

Oh, Lord! I never prayed for a world like this,

That’s intellectually strong but emotionally weak,

I never wished to live in a world like this,

That’s financially bold but morally meek,

Can we all together just change it, please?

It’ll take time, but at least we’ll be at peace,

Would you take the pledge to start a change today?

Or you’ll sit and watch the homecoming of Doom’s Day?

Because Karma is something for real,

Until the humans are ready for burial.

 

 

A different Love Story - Vani Shukla

On a cold winter morning,

It was the month of January.

I peeped out of my window; everything was blurry,

 so blurry as if someone had painted it white.

 This cold sent a chill down my spine. 

Sipping onto the coffee cup in my blanket,

 I wondered what if he was here,

 I would have been fine.

I got up, plugged in my earplugs, lifted the weights,

 my picture in the mirror depicted someone who had been thugged.

Tears were rolling down my chin; I might never grin.

His picture hung on the wall, 

his courage and valor stood tall.

The dimple on his cheek, in his eyes, a tweak.

they say he is away, very far away.

Seeing that I even blushed today, 

 His uniform in the cupboard smelled of him as I held it.

I could feel him beside me, like a strong tree.

My duty for the nation then came to my mind,

I wore my uniform that lined.

He was brave for the nation; it was his life that he gave.

 

What if  - Shivangi Kumar

Last night while gazing at the stars 

Some thoughts crossed my mind: 

Giving me a feeling of content

Making me think about the what-ifs?

What if all this time the struggle which we endure is nothing but something that is leading us to a beautiful destination in our life? 

What if everything will work out, even if it doesn’t seem like it right now?

What if whom we become is whom we’ve needed to be all along?

What if all of this sadness one day leads us to be our happiest selves? 

What if we replace all the pessimism with a little optimism?

What if I fall?

Oh, but my darling, what if you fly?

Would our way of looking at life as nothing but a trap will change?

I believe so and maybe you do too.

Covid 

 

Covid is a fall

And seems God's call

It cuts breath 

And make people forever asleep

          Countless get infected

Many more affected

Medical care getting exhausted

What to do? Where to go?

Are the questions being subjected

       Life has become hell

And is a sign of God's bell

The king is helpless

And the mob lying restless.

     Oxygen is taking its last breath

Lying ahead is only God's wreath

Remdesivir has gone from the shelf

And now no one comes for help

     The crematorium is full

Their scene is very awful

A life spent waiting in a queue

After death also nothing new

   Now God is the hope

With His help only the man can cope.

Life can only be saved 

If God's comes to prevent this deadly wave.

By D Dhananjay Singh

                                                                     A Hero

                                                           if everyone was a hero

 

                                                           tiptoe in the shadows

                                                           without an ego

                                                           standing tall and proud

                                                           in a crowd

 

                                                           if everyone was a hero

 

                                                           towering will power

                                                           of the hour

                                                           being aware

                                                           being there

 

                                                           if everyone was a hero

 

                                                           deep-hearted

                                                           bold role

                                                           soul mate

                                                           avowed and endowed

 

                                                           if everyone was a hero

 

                                                           true full grown

                                                           soulful backbone

                                                           thoughtful shine

                                                           watchful mind

 

                                                           if everyone was a hero

 

                                                           liven to an oath

                                                           come to the forth

                                                           give the time

                                                           when in need

 

                                                           if everyone was a hero

 

                                                           if this it could be a status quo

                                                           if this could grow

                                                           if this could always glow

                                                           if this could be echoes

 

                                                           it would be a better place to be

 

                                                                                                    By Guy Chambers

                                                                  A Wish

 

                                                                on a wish

                                                                on a daybreak

 

                                                             thoughts pondering

                                                             therein standing

                                                             lingering

                                                             enduring

 

                                                                on a wish

                                                                on a wake

 

                                                             cast it into a day

                                                             on one’s heart

                                                             an eye to

                                                             a tick of a cloak

 

                                                                on a wish

                                                                on a windbreak

 

                                                             sigh aspire

                                                             breeze airing

                                                             ear on the wind

                                                             can’t tell you everything

 

                                                                on a wish

                                                                on a make

 

                                                             upon a will

                                                             one’s finger thin

                                                             unearthing within

                                                             insomuch

 

                                                                on a wish

                                                                on a sake

 

                                                             too the eye

                                                             lie in wait

                                                             for arise of fate

                                                             to dawn

 

                                                                on a wish

                                                                on a keepsake

 

                                                                                                   By Guy Chambers

In Towards Understanding, her first book of poetry, Lillian was able to share her real-life journey of growing up on her own, struggling to survive, breaking the chains of inner conflict, and finally growing "towards understanding" of her value and purpose in life–but not quite reaching it. Readers witness her survive childhood trauma, learn that her life does indeed have value, and discover a passion for the environment, animals, gardening, and writing. The collection of 125 poems is arranged chronologically in order to walk the reader through her experiences over a 17-year period (1988-2005). Many of those poems won awards and literary recognitions for Towards Understanding were published in a wide variety of online and print publications in Africa, UK, US and Canada.

AMAZON USA:  https://www.amazon.com/dp/1475221703

AMAZON CANADA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/1475221703

 

 

SOMEWHERE DOWN DEEP BELOW

 

*Note by author: This one shows the emotional upheaval and recovery process, the exhausted, elated victory of one wall eroded away while the realization that there is so much left to do sinks in.

 

 

Somewhere down deep below,

 

Feelings inside me multiply and sow.

 

The harder, colder feelings than enhance,

 

And outside, they are determined to show.

 

Sticking to all four sides, they take control.

 

Bouncing back and forth, the inner starts an echo.

 

Resounding lessons and sermons –

 

All mixed up words that reap confusion

 

As they bond and fill every hollow.

 

Somewhere down deep below,

 

The ability to love dimly glows.

 

It sends a shadow down the forbidden path…

 

And then one wall begins to erode.

 

One down, yet thousands to go…

 

Slower, yet steadier, the programmed feelings flow.

 

This endless battle has made the slightest advance,

 

Behold! The cycle has surely begun to slow!

 

 

 

I CARE

 

*- Ode to Dave B. – my loving husband of 31 years (so far), written when we first met. He patiently waited for me to trust in love.

 

 

Who are you to disturb my inner thoughts?

 

To come here, innocently driving my fears away;

 

Creating new fears as the old ones fade?

 

Don’t go - but for God’s sake don’t stay.

 

Show yourself to me or just go away.

 

Your feelings are welcome here I think,

 

Wanting your smiles and tears;

 

And with you, I lose some fear.

 

Yet I try not to care.

 

I may not be able to stop the flow.

 

Gotta ask you to stop this but please don’t you go.

 

I am confused between my fears and you

 

To you, I am who I am.

 

Still, you stay where you stand.

 

I fear I may enjoy this too much

 

Might not let go of your hand.

 

I’ll be strong, take it as it comes, and enjoy our time.

 

Wait for the inevitable chime.

 

I’ll try not to push you away, I swear.

 

Nor will I show you too much.

 

Yet it is so hard not to believe in this.

Poem by Del Gibson

DEMENTED

The resounding voices in my head,

too many names, but much the same,

indeed, it can be distracting, always listening,

never learning. But it seems such a waste

to set aside my vivid imagination,

hastily closing it inside a box, the box that leaks words

of pain and fear inside my head.

Did I disappear somewhere? Never to return again,

except in these pages I write, my plight,

to see if I just might, come through this undestroyed.

This madness inside my head, my mind turned

and reeling and looking at the ceiling,

as the pills bliss me away from the stress and the pain,

never to return again, except in broken dreams, and fractured sleep.

This madness is insane, will I ever be myself again, or not?

Maybe this is all I am, my lot, in life?

This is me, that is you. This is whom I have become.

Mad and strange, and odd, just me blowing in the breeze,

hiding in the trees and bushes, dead weeds and rotten roses.

My crazy and demented mind, it belongs to me, alone!

And alone I will follow and never wallow in the memories

of when, life was so simple and then so grand, and then

here I am, standing in the rain, wondering where I’m going,

and where the hell I’ve been?

Again…

Written by Harshita ✍️

#Jazzbaat

Sometimes we need to stop analyzing the past, stop planning the future, stop trying to figure out precisely how we feel, stop deciding with our mind what we want our heart to feel, and sometimes we just have to go with 'whatever happens, happens.' but why ???

 

It's an internal connection with our soul

Am I healing - Soul talks to me 

Am I missing - sometimes miserable feeling from inside out

Am I living - living things are living but we internally Happy or sad soul 

Am I looking - what I am looking at,

Who we are looking for, who is noticing us? Why we feel this moment of looks, grab moment which we feel good about ourselves.

Am I recovering - Reconstruction and reconnecting our soul from bad to a good time 

Am I selfish - self-care and self-respect is selfish isn't nooo

Am I laughing - internally happiness can recognize from the way how we full-on laugh on our face

Am I breathing - Breath inhale good and exhale bad vibes

Am I listening - our ears listen to many things, thanks, bad good, but change the habit to hold on concerntatre on best 

Am I hearing - yes we used to hear many voices loud, hard shout silence scolds treasures but don't want to give importance to the negative matters 

Am I contributing - yes we all are facing life with many ups and downs Believe in karma, the contribution of smile happiness care love Motivation importance Respect 

Am I Forcing - We are nobody to force anyone for anything live your life which gives you happiness just do it

Am I speaking - We spread positive words to the world with full sense and humor

Am I silencing - We allow us sometimes to sit alone to make us happy in our time in silence 

Am I calling - Calling sometime to Talk with random is good for us for our judgements

Am I calming - Yes, we feel calm when we are Healthy, fit fine from inside 

Am I stopping - Life never be stop so why we Stop Living.

Am I starting - We start every day with Positive Spiritual vibes 

Am I pushing - We nevertheless push ourselves to accept wrongs and compromise with a bad life

Am I crying - Cry sometimes ok, We make ourself more strong enough to face life again

Am I cursing - the curse depends on our karma better understand for spread love

Am I walking - Walk is always good for health, our legs and foots our best friend because one foot automatically gives instructions to each other step by step.

Am I Amazing - We are amazing in our own ways to Praise each other everyone has different opinions,  liking , thinking and creative mind

Am I praying - Always pray to god what we have,

Am I paying - We all are paying directly or indirectly depends on our karma 

Am I thanking - Be Thank full for every minute, god and well-wishers even our haters they give us power to grow

Am I Healing - it's an internal connection with the soul 

Am I healing - a process of being positive soul spread love

©️ Jazzbaat e Harshita

@dawarharshita

------------------------+++++++++--------------+++++++

 

2 poem

 

Every one has a right to be happy

Not because of others

It's our own efforts to find happiness

Which gives us happiness just grab that opportunity

Whether it's small or big 

Day or night

Long or short

Coffee or Tea

Food or Drink

Cake or shake

Fake or real

Loud or silent

Freek or creak

Woods or Muds

Sore or sweet

Happy or laugh

Black or white

Fees or free

Bee or butterfly

Park or road

Flat or mountains

Light or Dark

Pink or link

Sharp or blunt

Ifs and buts

Right or left

Happy or healthy

Smile and sweet

Happy, happy soul

Just do it , 

Happiness is highly appreciated

When it comes to our own life

Happiness is good for health

Happiness is playing an important role 

Improve own inner peace love

Laughter Blessing charm Positivity

Smile n Smile, inner peace 

©️ Jazzbaat e Harshita

#HarshitaDawar

#Jazzbateharshita #happy #smiles

 

------++++++++----------+++++++----------++++++--

 

Highly Gratitude 

 

Short intro 

 

HARSHITA DAWAR is a proud single mother of a beautiful princess. She has been the epitome of feminine power who had made her mark despite all odds. And her this selfless love for her princess was duly recognized as she was awarded by Actress and Model Sara Khan. 

 

Her passion for poetry had made her spectacle into the world through an altogether different prism which symbolizes her personality.

Awarded and features in many national and international platforms and published in many newspapers.

 

This book "THE FRAME OF INSPIRATION" is a collection of poetry, in which she gave a frame to her feelings, emotions, thoughts, and inspirations.

 

http://lokalok.in/लेखक-हर्षिता-डाबर-को-वैश्/

 

https://delhibulletin.in/how-long-should-i-be-silent/

 

     https://delhibulletin.in/swastika/

 

     https://delhibulletin.in/writer-harshita-davar-received-the-award-from-sara-khan/

 

Giving this opportunity to be part of it.

     Self-nomination opportunities mean a lot

 If you know more about details, you can

Google also my name Harshita Dawar

Here are some achievements details below:

 

Now I am a Published Author to date 7 E books published on Amazon Kindle.

 

✔️Nex8 awarded me Author of the year 2019

✔️ Dr Sarojini Naidu international Award for Prominent Poet, She is a source of inspiration for every woman towards society from Hope International World Record

✔️  Gujarat Sahitya Akademi and Motivational strips Honour with Certificate of Appreciation

✔️ Real super women Award 2020 from Forever Star India Awards.

    ✔️ Awarded as Certificate of Commitment for best-promoting Awareness and self-help for Covid 19 from  World Book Of Records London.

✔️ Awarded as Certificate of Appreciate for selfless service in Covid 19 from Mentor And Mascot India Film Federation.

 

✔️Featured on best story of the year 

on international platform Galaxy.com 

✔️I featured on many platforms National and international and Newspapers.

✔️Open mic pehli udaan with Sheroes chief guest CEO Sairee Chahal and poetess sabika 

✔️literarymirror.com publish my article of feelings-of-mother-defies-all-odds 

✔️vocealiterara.ning.com e magazine of Romania  features as harshita-dawar-published-her-7-e-books-on-amazon-kindle

✔️ Interview on 91.7 Fm as inspiration for many women and being a published author.

✔️Jashn E rekhta 2019 first TV interview from Delhi 99.tv 

✔️Open mic with Delhi99.tv

✔️World Book fair 2020 of Author's interview from mangodigitv

✔️Interviewed on Wahwoman channel be Motivational speakers on Single parenting and Published Author.

✔️ Dhasu womaniya award featured as Story of the Day on Safejob.in

✔️Open mic with Mangiodigi.tv

 ✔️Form 4 News published my poem 

✔️NNS MEDIA Meri delhi NEWSPAPER Published my article

✔️Guest of honour Honour by MLA And chairman at NNSMEDIA at playschool fair 2020

✔️ Guest of honour Awarded at Sai Sewa samiti 2021 

✔️Many certificates from story mirror and mostly I nominated many times for Author of the week

✔️Certified from world literature academy

✔️Careneedy foundation organization panel discussion on sexual harassment on women at workplace get certification for participation.

✔️World poetry association given a certificate for appreciation.

✔️Herstory.com published as best inspirational story .

✔️ Most Sparky contributor Felicitation best BE community Blogging elementary.

✔️Interview was published in the being 

proud single mother and published Author magazine 'Taare zameen par National magazine

✔️ Awarded as Best Father's Day poem selection and published in National magazine Taare zameen par. ✔️Best Hindi Poetry writing Category Winner at Orange Flower Awards 2021 Organised by Womenweb.

✔️ Awarded as Best Love shayari award from National Magazine Taree Zameen par

 

 Many More are lined up for publishing my writing.

 

 

Feel free to contact

 

Regards

Author Harshita Dawar 

    INDIA New Delhi

+91 9999319971 

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