National Poetry Month, Day 9 | Howard Sandler & Anu Anniah

April 9, 2021

Photo by Howard Sandler

Bleak
by Anu Anniah

Gray
The mood, the world, everything
Like color has been sucked off the earth

Alone
No footfall, none at all
Like no human exists anymore

Cold
Bone-chilling, depressing, numbing
Like no blanket or fire can thaw the cold

Dry
Parched, arid, broken
Like being trapped in a barren desert

Dark
Eternal night, no ray of hope
Like the Sun disappeared forever

Thorns
Poking, jabbing, no respite
Like lying on a bed of nails

Shadows
Dark, long, scary
Like being haunted by the unseen

Death
Imminent, waiting, wanting
Like the peace that shall finally be mine

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Connect

See more of film photographer Howard Sandler's work on Flickr.

Read more writer Anu Anniah’s work on Twitter, on Instagram, (also this Instagram), and Medium..

National Poetry Month, Day 8 | Jen Brimmage & James G. Brennan

April 8, 2021

Photo by Jen Brimmage

Perceptions
by James G. Brennan

There's a kind of satisfaction
walking through this quiet street, lights dimming
against dawns rising hue after my night shift has finished.
A pause before the early shift starts when 
the odd figure may break up the scene I feel belongs to me

.This time relished when being a lone wolf gets to
roam freely around territory that does not belong to me,
however, it's good to fantasise if just for a short while.

There's always a store open early enough with a delivery
to buy illicit booze giving a slight decadent feeling 
as most would be drinking a morning coffee.

I'm happy sitting on the sidewalk
or leaning against a doorway absorbing the still air
swigging liquor from a discreet paper bag
accompanied with a wry smile in the knowledge
I just earned this.

I know this moment will not last long
before its infestation would begin with judgement
labelling me a bum. Maybe they are right.

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Connect

See more of film photographer Jen Brimmage'’s work on her Instagram.

Read more writer James G. Brennan’s work on Twitter, on Instagram, and Medium..

National Poetry Month, Day 7 | Laura Aubree & Paroma Sen

April 7, 2021

Photo by Laura Aubree

Prowl The Moon
by Paroma Sen

I dance best when I dance in the moonlight
Silvery bright tinsel polishing the tops of my arms
And I sway, hypnotized by the beat of the distant
drummer

Unseen by intruding eyes, unheard by eavesdropping ears
My feet skip lightly on dewy nectar, soil fresh carpets of grass
The warmth of night pulsating my shimmering specter

Caramel saxophone drizzles the penumbra of moon indulgent
As I paint the atmosphere with primordial tales infinite
A comet’s tail of epic love emblazoned on the night’s smoky canvas

Before dawn comes, shall I complete my ritual
Retreat once more behind masked eyes,
My soul hungry to prowl the moon again.

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Connect

See more of film photographer Laura Aubree’s work on her Instagram.

Read more writer Paroma Sen’s work on Twitter, on Instagram, Facebook, and Medium..