Amazed By Gentle Winds:A Facebook Poetry Anthology, Frances Ayers-Editor [inspirational books to read .txt] 📗

and what makes her tick. Born in India and raised in Mumbai, Bina has a Bachelor’s degree in psychology from the Bombay University and uses her unique perspective to her advantage as a Writer. Having divided most of her adult life between India and the States, she carries with her a deeply felt passion for writing and has been developing her creative talenanthologies which include PROSOPISIA, an international journal of poetry and creative writing, Eves Times Chennai and www.theenchantingverses.co.nr (Paris), both e-zines, as well as a recent publication entitled, Ripples. Her work has also been selected to appear on the poetry.com site.

In addition, five pieces of her work were also included as part of a permanent exhibit related to the World Trade Center attack.It is featured at the Museum of Chinese of the Americas (MoCA) a tremendous achievement and acknowledgement of her talents.

Bina is married, working and living in Brooklyn, New York. Her work has been featured in the Botticelli Magazine issue # 3 and most recently has been featured in the bestseller anthology, In The Company of Women, released in early 2012.Since the mid-70’s while living and working in Cleveland, Ohio,her creative juices have come to fruition in her collections of work: My Heart On My Sleeve and Handful of Fireflies which can both be purchased at www.amazon.com. Works from this collection, have been published in several poetry anthologies.

Pockets

Seeds of
Grief
Lie fallow
In the fecund
Pockets of earth
That is my heart
News of death
Seeds them
Instantly
Sprouting them
In record
Time
I mourn alongside
Friends and the icicles
In the dark caverns of my
Heart begin to bleed ruby
Tears frozen by shock
And disbelief
Death is
A great equalizer
Bereft feeling permeates
Confounding
Compounding
Disorientation
I’ve learnt
To live in the
Moment
Fully,
Be it in grief
Or in joy

*April 18, 2012 –Facebook and my website




Vestiges (dealing w/ ALZ)

Some vestiges of me still remain…
Some are long gone in the mist of morrows
some happy some sighing like my sorrows
yet some still remain...
Pulling back the lacy curtain of my misty memories
I peek through frowning with wistful concentration
Trying to penetrate the foggy clouds of my hallucinations
Hanging on to some vestige of my reality..
A paradox it is, veritably, as I hang on to my sanity
What seems okay to me is actually a moot point with others
My reality is mine only as others look askance in negation
I perilously hang on to the remnants of me
Dried up fragments of flowers and pressed leaves are they
In the book of my life, their fragrance a happy memory
The association, an important part of me, lost in the mists
Of lost vestiges of me in the sands of time…
In these mazes of my mind I seek me in a dazed haze
They think I’ve lost it, yet I know that I am there somewhere
Curled up in self preservation against onslaught of other forces
Stitching tattered vestiges of me in a frenzy…
Am I a closed book gathering dust in peaks and troughs of my life
Trying to make it home under my own steam and no longer roam
The compass of my life gives mixed signals and clueless, I clasp
Tight to the remaining vestiges of me
I ask not for any pity or understanding or acknowledgements
My foibles and my idiosyncrasies aid me to retain me for me
Your memory now exists as those dried blooms in the book of my life
Now I exist in the vestiges of myself that belong only to me
~
Teaching is leaving a vestige of one self in the development of another. And surely the student is a bank where you can deposit your most precious treasures ~ Eugene P. Bertin

**this poem appears in
self published collection of poems called “My Heart On My Sleeve” march 10, 2009 and
website/facebook etc.




Dowell Oba

Dowell Oba is a dynamic Nigerian poet with a natural flair for wielding the quill. He holds a Bachelor of Arts and Education degree in English and Literature, from the University of Benin, Benin City, Nigeria. His first poetry collection "Ocean Tide" was published 2011 by Author House. His poems have also been featured in the Copperfield Review, USA, The ZAM Africa Magazine Netherlands, Grade School Syllabus USA, and in the first eBook anthology in this series.His ballad poem "Dilemma with Two Sisters"was featured in the Literature Grade School Syllabus in the USA.He is currently an English and Literature teacher at Renaissance International Schools, Ovwian, Warri, Nigeria. He won the Voices Net Writers Contest USA in the periods of April 2010 and July 2011 respectively. In January 2010,Dowell also won First Place in Poetry in the Creative Writers' Awards for Excellence of the Faculty of Arts, University of Benin, Benin City, Nigeria,at the climax of his university days.His poem "Our Peaceful Toil" was published in Volume 2 of the World Healing World Peace Poetry Anthology during the 2012 National Poetry Month of April."


Chemical Bond

Like the image of the compass,
You pose the fixed end
And I remain the rotating end.
Though I run away from those I love,
The chemical bond you possess
Ever draws me closer to say...
Love is just a definition
Of what you've placed
In my heart!

Copyright Dowell Oba 2009



HOW I Miss You

How I miss you, let me count the ways:
I miss you like bread misses butter,
I miss you like a knight misses his angel,
I miss you like a runner misses a runway,
I miss you like a suitor misses his bride,
I miss you like a thirst misses water,
And I miss you like an engine misses a propeller.
So please write me if you miss me too!

Copyright Dowell Oba 2009



Merriment

With an ongoing ride through time
A verse to your salute I did mime
in recognition of a presence well spent
On a fading world of life given on rent
Emerging victoriously through daily conquest
Achieving craving desire at immediate request
Placing a positive stamp in my delicate heart
Since the onset of our love you did start
Hard to believe the passing on fast a year
Seeming only a month cut out from a year
When my emotions for you was at its best
For right in my heart your figure did rest
Erasing swiftly every previous unworthy attention
Dedicating my love towards you, a wise decision
But the joys of the world your love did bring
Rendering its blessings in my life it did ring
So a salute of appreciation I make this day
In wishing you merriment in a most perfect way
For being so special up this very day you've been
HAPPY BIRTHDAY to you who my heart has seen.


Copyright Dowell Oba 2009



Ballad Of Mary

Mary smiles intuitively,
That, I know.
Mary laughs flowery,
That, I know
Mary talks merrily,
That, I grow.
Mary speaks craftily,
That, I slow.
Mary reasons logically,
That, I toe.
Mary coins perfectly,
That, I'm sure.
Mary sniffs wisely,
That, she's pure.
In Mary's lovely virtues
Ever said,
Does Mary prove religiously,
That, I know.
But in Mary's wisdom
Lies a point:
In wrongful an act,
She knows,
A listening ear
To affirm her right,
Cos Mary speaks skilfully,
That, I know.

Copyright Dowell Oba 2012

Mesmerized

I flowed in my sense of chivalry
Amidst every possible glance of rivalry
In justification of a manner, ever dignified
An opportunity with an angel, so nicely signified.
I spinned to the rhythm from my lyrical rock
Overshadowed by a magical hit as though struck
By a thunderbolt ringing constantly in my head
I tossed my coin, it spinned to your favor instead.
Now I slowly recollect that joyful moment
In contact with a damsel like the moon's crescent
I ran, but my shadow tilted towards your direction
From afar, I pictured tactically a derivation
Of a spectacle as sweet as though a femme-fatale
A mademoiselle of glory, soft as though a petal
For I once planted a rose bud early this June
That probably must have blossomed into her fine fortune
To make her priceless a figure so well crafted
For an artist had indeed retired for a skill well mastered
Wondered how it would feel in a mind paradise
In the realm of her dream to slowly fantasize
And be in cognizance with a damsel so well endowed
Like a cognoscenti with knowledge of her every doubt
To slowly unleash my mesmerized hands on her shoulder
That will surely make sweet Eny echo her rhythm much longer.

Copyright Dowell Oba 2009




Steven Michael Pape

Steven was born in 1974 in England. He has had a dozen poems published independently in various Anthologies by Forward Press. Steven has also self-published three books of his own poems and two Anthologies of worldwide poets ,all available from Blurb.com. More recently,he has had book reviews and poetry featured in New York's AEA zine. He is Currently working on a book of realism poetry.


Brahman`s Quest.

And we learn from teachings of so long ago,
That by freeing the mind, the soul will follow
These words with their strange abbreviations,
Each one can be understood and appreciated.

With meditation and with mantra beads,
It is all some want and all some need
To reach enlightenment with silent prayer,
And to caress each thought that is there.

The sublime one sits under the bodhi tree,
His eyes are shut it don`t mean he can`t see
An ascetic that meditates in a yellow robe,
Each word that`s uttered, each word that`s told.

Sitting outside we all see natures full bloom,
It can still be experienced in a locked room
Our imagination is just like water it flows,
Materialistic impulses we just have to let go.

Copyright Steven Pape 2012

Like Leaves That Drift

Like leaves that drift amidst the breeze,
Standing still imitating the tree`s
Place a stake into hollowed ground,
This inner truth lost then found.

Sit still, obey all perception,
Abolish all of the old rejection
The hurt and the hate welled up inside,
This reclusive soul, destined to hide.

Thoughts honed down into structure,
The brain swells, the imminent rupture
In wakefulness confront it head on,
With empty eyes, soul long gone.

This still long anxious waiting,
Yet avoiding ideas, anticipating
The nature of the art, the beauty of the beast,
Day turns to night, anger turns to peace.

Copyright Steven Pape 2012




Summer Hazy Day.

A dreamy summer hazy day,
Opening the window
Thoughts drift away,
The all observing nature at play.

The birds taking flight,
All sounding alike
The flowers in bloom,
Sun changing from moon.

The fresh air takes place,
Over the emotionless race
As times seeming slow,
Our minds they do grow.

Expands with due care,
The world shining bare
Memories are gone,
As it all carries on.

The young and the old,
A crow standing bold,
The trees with fresh leaves,
Feeding animals underneath.

Big smiles on pale faces,
This sun hits all places
It creeps through our pores,
Leaves us craving for more.

The vibrant colors that be,
When we are wanting to see
When we all open our minds,
To the beauty combined.

A dreamy summer hazy day,
We all now leave nature to play.

Copyright Steven Pape 2012






The Trees Are