Embracing...Holman, Arias, Rafeek, Guirantes - aaduna's NPM: Day 29

Oh! These beautiful things

I see the beauty still there somewhere

in the smile of a child and even a simple

/in the Spring when the flowers come

and when the sun's on your side

a slight breeze in the air as you whistle

showing your grand son how to ride a

a bike- your daughters graduation from

high school-oh these beautiful things

A young mother and father look at their

new born baby in amazement/life is here/

love is here/Life is still here

I see the beauty still there somewhere

Oh these beautiful things

© 2017 Jeffrey D. Holman                

Bronx, New York

Jeffrey D. Holman (photo provided)

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PRECIOUS

It was a strange and wondrous thing 

a weight on my left side 

a strange stone 

a rainbow of colors in a clear setting 

and yet today it melds into me as a natural growth 

naked without it and yet 

with no clothes its the only thing i feel inclined to wear 

a constant reminder of always and forever 

and yet a binding to keep me grounded and safe 

Safe in arms 

And yet free to be me

Fully me 

Uncontrollable do what I want when I want how I want me 

And yet grounded me 

Focused me 

Family me 

Grounding so I can always find home 

No matter how far I fly 

Strange - all it was was a stone on a round.

© 2017 Isis Arias                               

Brooklyn, New York  

Isis Arias (photo provided)

* * *

Sphinx to Fellah Woman

Bear with me, as you have abased the livery. Skin

of bluest desert, sharp as a catamount’s grace. Here

your rain is a kiss; the cold from glaciers. As if

to enthrone a pharaoh’s ochre warm of sun is to

gaze at love in the appease. After all, I am Tut

and tomb lionized—

seeking like immortals, for you are pried, sprout

of a tremble, a cerulean glory now mine.

Eyes alight of mirth. You have found us thrilling

in this awash, plethoric against Nile’s gulch, this

entity that we are chained nights

of a thousand. Listen to my paw

this I bespeak tenderly, your dreaming moon-pale

breast, a cradled worship for our children.

© 2017 Rushda Rafeek                                 

Colombo, Sri Lanka                                                                                                                           

Rushada Rafeek (photo provided)

* * *

Having Her Say, Her Way

You tell me I can’t drink Pepsi.

That I can’t... I can’t have my Jack Daniels

I can’t smoke my cigarettes

Can’t eat those greasy hot sausages

Fusing about watching my sugar

I laugh at her because I birthed her and I tell her how I feel.

Forget you! I’m 90 years old and I do what I want!

My heart has new filters

My body a pin cushion

I’m old and tired

My friends are long gone

No one to talk to about the things I remember

Just you always saying you heard that before

Child don’t you see my frustration…feel! My loneliness?

I don’t like this act of my play as I scream!

Forget you! I’m 90 years old and I do what I want!

Daughter looks at mother

Seeing how their roles have reversed

So small; yet still strong and resilient

That fire in mama’s eyes always defiant

Sighing daughter makes a glass with a little Pepsi

On a plate, hot sausage just the way she likes it

Places both in front of her mother and sees mama’s smiling eyes saying,

Forget you! I’m 90 years old and I do what I want!

© 2017 Hope Guirantes                     

Jersey City, New Jersey   

Hope Guirantes (photo provided)

  

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