Day 5: Jackson, Attah, Jaravani, Reynders celebrate National Poetry Month

PRISM

is a game that doesn’t calls itself a game

 but the managerial skills of saving lives

of getting all the kaleidoscope to evenly

hold on the surfaces of the prism and in doing

gamesmanship isn’t akin to upmanship 

but a  juggling of scarce resources

a juggling of  race creed color

and still a game pretentious enough as to not call  itself a game

as it shifts destinies across the poker table 

 balls tossed in the air, a juggling act  of calming the next foment

that the axis also takes respective dire situations of us around the world and back,

to a futuristic time in which the rough shod surfaces are made even

smooth,

fingers working at the speed of light

knitting  intricate inter-plays of solution,

while overflowing  the rim

the impatience of those  whose spittle and bile

runs like a busted  waste pipe

 in the cry for some semblance of justice,

fingers pecking at a keyboard   

different words same meaning

of supplanting an empty space

loosing one in the process

of saving one,

dreams

the smallest of them

even the tiny

microscopic,

ones.

© 2016 Eaton Jackson                                   

Neptune, New Jersey     

 

Eaton Jackson (photo provided)

        

* * *

Growing Up

It’s so hard, preparing just to fail

Why are all these people going to jail?

A 50% graduation rate

This world is full of hate

I don’t want to grow up

                           But, I have to show up

All this peer pressure

They try to make me feel lesser

But, I know who I am

The most important thing is my fam

I have a future

I will be “A” man

But wait, What is a man?

Do I have to have the most money?
Do I have to be funny?

Do I have to have new shoes?
Is that what’s cool?
Do you want me to act “white”

Is that what’s right?

I will fight the good fight

You don’t have to believe in me

Just wait and see

 There’s nothing to fear

Your own future is near

Challenge yourself

And you will your real self

© 2016 Victor A. Attah                     

Syracuse, New York              

 

Victor A. Attah (photo provided)

* * *

I am The Shade

I am the shade,

Behind mankind I sit.

Unnoticed, undisturbed I am.

I am the shade,

That tears families apart,

I cause strife between brothers.

I am the shade,

That roars in the wild.

The predator of predators.

I am the shade,

Driving nations into war,

Ending lives of the young

Yet I am the same shade,

That glimmer of hope,

Stuck in the eyes of a child

I am the shade.

Innocence of true love,

I bind enemies in matrimony.

I am the shade,

The darkness demons revel in.

Uncontained, undefined

© 2016 Tim Jaravani

Harare, Zimbabwe                 

Tim Jaravani (photo provided)

* * *

The Light

Two individuals stumbled through the darkness,

Darkness so impenetrable with memories and sorrow,

Each had made the promise not to forget the other,

To walk with the other no matter how gloomy it became,

The light will always come but in waiting for the light comes the true challenge.

© 2015 David Reynders

Lehi, Utah   

David Reynders (photo provided)

                           

 *   *   *

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