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โ€œIdentityโ€ a poem of mine for all the poetryโ€™s lovers. .. Thanks to my friend Dr. Shireen Walton for the translation from Italian to English.



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I'll be going on IG live tonight @ 8pm EST!! For my first live session I'll be talking (hopefully not to myself) about my work and goals for my writing, a bit about myself, etc. Come join me ๐Ÿ˜Š <skinnylegendpoetry> on Instagram




Do not miss and on Wednesday February 5, 2020 (7.00 pm) as they kick-start Goethe-Abansoro 2020. Admission is Free!!!




























Don't miss this free workshop to learn how to memorize and perform poetry! Take your poem from the page and to the stage. Read more and reserve a ticket at




We promised you news! Big news! invitations go out to all contributors. Come join us, come read and mingle! Issue #1 Launch Party, come get yourself a copy, signed!



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"Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known." - Carl Sagan Read The Ocher of Abundance โ˜˜๏ธย Poetry that leads you to unearth love, self-forgiveness and self-acceptance. โ˜˜ย 




Life's Echoes is a collection of inspirational , written and designed to awaken your emotions, make you ponder the incredible tapestry of life, and alter your perspective. ๐Ÿฆ‹ with






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Family Values

They make a meth head take care of his son;

Ignorantly ignoring the notion of reflections;

The ones hell will see in himself for family values;

Yet she never tried to take him to court;

Just wanted everyone to hate him; It was war; Enemies;

Trading grenades in front of innocence;

All the gaslighting and abuse he put her through;

Started to painic in fear and lack of trust in anyone;

Only she knew best, she knew everything;

She did not want the child; She was forced;

It would take 12 months to start to feel normal;

But would he detox; It was too hard;

Easier to submit to a needle;

No clue how much work he needed;

Time it would take to heal but he ruined her;

In spilling and picking at toxic wounds;

It was all about her and her own needs;

Not the children, the one she left and ran from;

And to reintroduce a clean and sober Dad;

Giving everyone else the burden to raise a child they did not want;

Yes it takes a village but first it takes God.

Best Suit For Daddy

Like a whirl wind; He was long gone;

Source told whispered his is dead;

Death was near in this last year;

It was him lingering; Waiting for that right injection;

At night wishing he had done better;

Where love grew; For a moment;

Grace found in saying good bye;

As knowing there was still more life;

Standing above the grave;

Beneath the name and tombstone;

It was a funnel never attended;

But picture; It paints itself;

All dressed in tears and Mother’s cry;

The broken hearts pleading with God;

A little boy dressed in his best suit;

Fatherless and asking why;

Daddy did not choose me.

Ladybug Mecca
image

Catch a ladybug,

free it to the air

and be its master

as it whispers your

name in loving ears


To entice the lover with joy

like a rainbow of lightning

overflowing with bright colors

rushing over to sweet madness


While spots of changing seasons

could lead up to twenty-four wishes

of crazy love to be realized in eyes

that are clever toxic to all lucky kisses


And those spiritual attributes are visible

under the hibernating wings of winter

mating during the journey of yearly flights

knowing that spring is a bitter prelude to leave.


-Cordelia Hunter

Ancient Tree


The bomb you just ignite

Is utterly empty inside

Flame will be gone at night

No shadow due to lack of light


Not even energy left to explode

Just leave this harmless piece

It will never turn into gold

Nor find any sort of peace


Well, you could try and grow

Gardens and flowers instead

Refrain the kindness of the soul

Its weakness might make you sad


Mild to pouring rain

Grave enough to kill

Days won’t ever happen again

For the heartache is still


Dying roses in my skin

I kept from an ancient tree

Rooted underneath my sin

Where I was supposed be


Flooded by gracious butterflies

Stomach is no longer a home

They rise in order to reach the skies

And leave forever this garden dome

God, Love and Women

I started to understand Stockholm syndrome;

How you could love a broken broken broken man;

This coward I never recognized him;

Like I was drugged; It was not love;

But just running from the hands claiming savior;

What does it mean though, they are free;

Living their lives in sorrow; A vampire;

Just looking to take the life out you;

Soul, mind, and body, these boys are just empty;

Not a man; Heartless; But without God;

How could they love a women;

Love someone they would never have.

What Did It Mean

He mentioned a rape and six guys;

I’m not sure why he told me;

Said it was some religious girl;

That it was not me; And sometimes;

But he mentioned a shower;

A lunch date with no deliver;

Which started ringing alarm bells;

I did drink too much; Trying to numb myself;

From the pain that would bring;

Justice and God had a plan I knew this;

But what I know about myself;

This new realization of accountability;

As rebellious as I, just wanting to be free;

Often found that in drinking;

Disassociating made an easy target;

Often hard to concentrate;

Usually I’d make it home alone;

Yet there is always that one night;

That stays kind of questionable;

In the back of your mind;

Reaching for Heaven’s Stair Case;

Would they; Where they capable of that;

And everything that happened after;

There on that ground; Red Apparatus;

Already traumatized; Things become hard to remember;

But I can remember the sound of frozen cracks on the ground;

These people I lived with;

My poor Mother, I knew her prayers saved me;

I’d never wish a daughter like me to anyone;

What was I to do with this;

All I could feel was a monster;

The energy dark; Things I remember;

Taking too many shots and throwing up over the banister;

I’m not saying there where not some good times;

Than the questions come back;

The things I do not talk about from back then;

What is the psychosis; The line between light and darkness;

Was there truth in it and does it deserved validation;

And if it was not me, what was it, who,

And how many more this becomes an obsession;

A puzzle that I have to make right;

But what did it fucken mean.

SORRY I BURNED YOU

By Mickey Hughes (@notinhellyet)


These somnambulant shadows infiltrated

While I lay sleeping alone.

Somehow both alluring and fearsome

Prowling round and round the bedstead;

Obscure beings who bear

The weight of all my yesterdays.


Inexorable reminders,

Poor choices,

Over sensitive reactions,

The irritation I had let boil over,

Burning the hands of those trying to comfort me.

A Rainbow of Hate
image

This spectrum is full of hate.


But true colors will disarm

the false prophet of love

proclaiming terrorists in disguise

and the war

on Christmas smiles in

anti-semitic style while the

propoganda

government destabilization

creates a rainbow of hate

that denounces

marriage equality for like genders

in pain.

The souls of life are not for sale

although we endure this wall of shame

that blocks the beauty of prisms

But we shout

More Love

less hate

in a sea of color coded profiling

because we have never been

seen

during cultural appropriation

masking

under false appreciation.

No Hate, No Fear

be careful who you kill

Because the ribbons of light

Hold the master key to our

Golden Gate.


-Cordelia Hunter

The Nature of Things
image

Facing life’s storms will not pull me under

But I’m strong like the rumble of thunder

Because you shelter my heart from the twister

And love will walk in the storm but not for long.


The earth shifts its plates during life and loss

Showing no mercy of relief in times of grief

That screams our bond will survive at any cost

And love will walk in the storm but not for long.


Let the mile high waves roar through the night

So the core of the silent wind can hold us tight

Under the wailing eye of the quiet cloud’s might

But we will walk in the storm but not for long.


We will walk with the storm but not for long

As love compromises the nature of things

While kissing and dancing in the rain.


-Cordelia Hunter

Mr. Darcy, My Dear…


Isolated? hmm, they all disappear,

Of course, the coast, was very clear,

Better than your? you have no clue,

But fortunately, that voice, I did hear.


Your words echoed, at a stretch, in my ear,

Change, is for sure, what we all fear,

My clueless heart, agreed with you,

She seems to be, too stubborn, this year.


She’s gone crazy, this is, so severe,

To fall for you, she does, volunteer,

I fail to fight, the love glue,

I’m glad, you don’t, sneak peak in here.


Imagine, he reads, what’s hidden here,

I slapped her, pump blood, don’t interfere,

I underestimated, everything else she can do,

Here comes, her army, she’s the brigadier.


She chained me, on to, the chandelier,

Everything she wrote, I read, in fear,

Aiming her head, I threw, my shoe,

Now I’ll hide her, in my blog, right here.


This is how she began, to write in sincere,

That unexpected hour,

In my favorite color,

Out of the blue,

You did appear,

Mr. Darcy, my dear.


-Debra R. N. Ludwick-