Confab With Me

Though her eyes displayed shades of pragmatism,

her heart treasured warmth of undeterredfaith,

alas no one possessed aberrant eyes to witness her true self

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Copyright © Shantanu Baruah

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You don’t love me no-more…


You don’t love me no-more…….


I longed to see your face, I longed to hear your speak.

I knew I was gone too long and you gave-up on me.

I watched you from a distance and you are dancing with a beautiful child.

I left you be, I knew.

Don’t rain on things that are gone and so damn far away.


I told the pretty gal,

I am fond of your smile

,please tell me a story.

I want to hear the softness in your voice,

I want to watch the movement of your lips.

Please make me feel safe for a moment.


You don’t love me no-more.

I can see in your eyes,

remnants and fragments of was we were.

Somewhere we forgot what made us good together.

Now we are waiting to see,

who will escape first.


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Memorial day poetry- My home is Northern Michigan.

A Great Tribute from John!!


My home is Northern Michigan…..

I sat by the Cherry trees of Michigan in Northern Michigan and I remembered a good friend. He was not young, he served in the Army. 25 years, a soldier, my friend he was. He loved the forest, loved great talks and he loved his daughters. 

I sat by his grave, pulling out the dead weeds by his gravestone. I told him, I remember you. I remembered you told me. I am a Northern Michigan man,  Sgt. C. We befriended and we served in the same unit for almost 10 years. Our families became close and our children grew-up tall together.

Now I sit alone and I wished I made more time for the kind man who fixed my car, when needed. Allowed me to share meals with his family when I had no-one. I remember being with him when his life fell apart. Today…

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A Poet’s Flame – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

DO NOT MISS ALI’S – Tribute To Persecuted Poets!!!!

flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw

“They started to burn the poets

But ash makes for more fertile soil.” – Khet Thi

if they are only words
if they are only lines scratched in stone
if only poems from one heart 
how could they be so dangerous
to those with guns

so threatening 
that the flame of one 
must be put out

so powerful
that extinguishing one
wasn't enough

I hear the call of lost poets
their voices speak on 

to those willing to receive 

their light

I was stunned by this article, Where Poets Are Being Killed and Jailed After a Military Coup by Hannah Beech, New York Times. In honor of these lost poets I wanted to share their story. These words of mine feel so inadequate and that is why I am promising to remember the courage of these poets whenever I doubt the power of poetry.

May we find peace.

Join me…

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It’s Monday, Again!


It’s Monday, Again!
Choose to bloom,
No matter if it’s Monday or Friday!
Spread fragrance full of kindness,
Affection and love,
Where ever you are planted!

Life is no bed of roses,
But you can for sure be a happy flower!
Don’t let the life’s hurricanes,
Uproot you!
Be firm enough to keep going,
Stand for yourself!

I know the world is full of cowards,
But you can be brave!

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Did We Forget Ourselves Again? – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon


Photo: Stylidium – Trigger Plant – at Beelu National Park.

“The first law of ecology is that everything is related to everything else.” Barry Commoner

Did We Forget Ourselves Again? Did we forget ourselves for the umpteenth time today, dislocating our circularity of existence in favour of a myth, that we are refugees from our own interconnectivity, an ignorance of our interdependence with all that breathes. Dislocating our circularity of existence in favour of a myth, the long held shadow of self-deception celebrating plenty, an ignorance of our interdependence with all that breathes, ironically diminishing the circle of life that sustains all things. The long held shadow of self-deception celebrating plenty, the smoke and mirror of self-congratulatory independence, ironically diminishing the circle of life that sustains all things, in favour of a fleeting feeling of euphoria vested in ego. The smoke and mirror of self-congratulatory independence, that we are refugees…

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Please Honor Memorial Day

charles french words reading and writing



I hope all of you have had a wonderful weekend, but I also hope you remember why this holiday, Memorial Day, exists.  The word “holiday” comes from “holy day,” and the remembrance of this day and its purpose should be sacred. It was originally known as Decoration Day after the end of the Civil War, and it was designated Memorial Day in the 20th Century.

This day is intended to honor, give thanks, and remember those who have sacrificed their lives for The United States of America.  Please honor the fallen and the wounded on this day.  I realize the day was meant originally for the dead, but I extend my wishes and  thanks to the wounded also. Regardless of political beliefs or stands on a war, these are the men and women who fought to keep us safe, and they deserve our remembrance.

They deserve our…

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Would you have stayed this time around,

If I showed you what I really became?

If you saw me, no more as a damsel in distress,

Would you have loved me more?

That’s the thing about love though,

I grew out of it, while growing a personality,

And didn’t even stop to look back,

While I flew away toward my destiny.

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