Painted Heart

I’ve been thinking of a painting
That I’ve created in my mind
It’s a painting of something special
For which colors are hard to find
I’ve searched all over
Even the rainbow that leads to the gold
In hope of finding those special colors
For my canvas to hold

I know this painting would turn out right
If I had those colors to start
Special colors full of emotions
From which I could paint from my heart
I’m not really a painter
Just a person with an empty palette of dreams
Someone searching for the color of love
And searching forever as it seems

There’s a masterpiece in my heart
Which my canvas will soon acquire
And with every brush stroke that I’d make
It soon would be ready to admire
Where is that special color
That I need so very much
To add to my palette
And give my painting its one final touch

This vision I have in my mind
Is really a painting of you
There’s no need for rainbows
Only feelings that I know are true
I believe with all my heart
That love is any color you want it to be
For a masterpiece painted with love
Can be very special, for you and for me.

Blog link: https://amankumar001.wordpress.com/

If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account (if you have one) to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com 

The Oxford University

Hello. Good day, good sirs.

How do you do.

I have with me my resumé,

A poem I’ll perform for you,

I’ve also brought my ukulele,

A stress ball and a hip flask, too.

(Just in case). In case of what?

A case of what? I’m glad you ask.

A case that’s very clinical indeed:

I’ve read the whole of War and Peace;

[exchanging looks]

I also know what alliteration is.

[an awed gasp]

Impressive, yes, I am aware

I am the candidate you seek.

Depression’s mild, panic attacks rare –

PTSD, but just a dot.

(War and Peace did take its toll)

I write prose, poetry and plays –

Your inspiration?

Well, just the classics – Brontë, Orwell,

Had a recent E. L. James phase.

The trilogy?

Yessir, all shades of grey in this bleak world.

What did you think?

A masterpiece of modern literature that both marvelled and disturbed.

I see.

[upon much contemplation]

Although you certainly have… an eccentricity, 

We feel that your application 

As… unique and bold as it is, 

Does not quite live up to the expectation

Of a student apt enough to bear the pressure of our course. 

And above all – 

Allow me to correct the errors of your discourse.

Excuse me?

Mister-Sir-Professor, you are about to suffer a loss of great extent –

We disagree. 

For goodness’ sake, you bearded snob –

Just listen and you shall see:

Please leave the room.

“Good day, good sirs – ”

Security!

 

Am a notorious womanizer currently residing at Oxford university named Carter. Joking, I have no life and I’ve been rejected because apparently I wasn’t ‘flexible enough in thought’ which I’m still very bitter about and use as poem inspiration amongst sex, my imaginary career in womanizing and soppy things.

https://themodernteenageegomaniac.wordpress.com/

 

If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account (if you have one) to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com 

3 Haikus

Insignificance

   Thoughts indisposed,
imagination faltered, love!
what did you do to me?

Death Obsessed

Give me a sip from Lethe,
don’t I dare disturb the world.

Thoughts of You

The winter shivers,
the evening breeze,
and thoughts of you.

Bio;

I am Muhammad Shahab. I like to read and write poetry. I am a literature student and an aspiring writer. My interests lie in Language and Literature and feel free if I could be of any help in these fields.You can read my blogs at Shahabistan.wordpress.com

If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account (if you have one) to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com 

Life in Eldoret City

If you a fish lover,
Eastleigh,
A walkaway,
From business district,
Kwa Samaki is the place,
Enjoy fish with ugali,
‘Laked’ delicacy,
Every retail outlet,
Food joint,
Sell Mursik,
Cloud 9 play good music,
Eastwards,
Ravine road enter the highway,
At Poa Place,
That recreational palace,
Cultural centre,
Swimming centre,
To the north,
Sits Munyaka,
Hilly,
Walking or driving,
You climb upward,
Past the railway line,
Kipchoge stadium,
Alpax college,
School of higher learning,
Past European cemetery,
To places far away,
Like Iten,
Kapsowar,
Place near like University of Eldoret,
And California,
At middle city,
Loud music play at shops,
There’s no order,
Bus stops,
All over the highway,
And footpaths,
Side by side,
Walk lovebirds,
Near the town hall,
The city clock,
Tick tock,
To eternity,
While masses walk fast,
Champions run fast,
Streets kids play,
While the city askaris,
Chase their parents,
Helter skelter,
To the south,
Kisumu ndogo,
And the famous Langas,
Bustle,
That’s past the Eldoret National Polytechnic,
Off there you can swim,
At Starbucks,
Or sing and dance your heart out at Marriott,
Uptown hosts a thousands souls,
Drainage is faulty,
And sewerage is linking,
Paths smell nasty,
But she,dances the street kid,
While KVDA reigned in the heights,
For sometime,
The skyscraper past the Cathedral stand tall,
And bold,
It watches all over,
The National Library is a walkaway,
From City Hall,
And Zion mall,
City is quiet on Sunday,

I’m Kiptoo Obadiah a Kenyan from Eldoret City,Uasin Gishu County. I’m passionate with poetry,writing and travelling.

I started writing and spoken word way back in high school but didn’t succeed. My poems are informed by life experiences, travel experiences, fantasy and beauty if life and nature.

My Poetry blog https://theobipoetry98992407.wordpress.com

If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account (if you have one) to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com 

For the Lost

In fog’s night,
there’s a shimmer
A hint of hearth and home.
A muted invitation
to one who walks alone.

Far away from native shore
and succor of the soul.
Harbouring a longing for
the things that make us whole.

Fishing for remembrances
of paintings in the mind,
but finding only semblances
in images unkind.

And now they come, in elder times,
these showings of a land.
So often gleaned from ancient rhymes
that lead us by the hand.

As if to say this life of yours
is wanting for its bed,
so be untroubled, free of chores,
and rest your weary head.

Hello, I am Lee Dunn.
Working stiff (retired).  Avid reader, dreamer, and searcher.
Writing some poetry, prose, personal stories, and fiction.
Have had work published in the Shelburne Free Press.
I blog on WordPress at https://secret-lifeof.com/

If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account (if you have one) to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com 

My Dearest Mom

There was this night so quiet & dark
When I got up from my sleep with the twitchy spark
It was a dream of my beloved mother with me
Everything about it felt intense & so real
If she were alive, I would surely have given her a kiss
Now hear me out as the dream goes like this

She went out to attend some family party
But she came back disturbed & she had lost her sari
The next thing I noticed was quite bizzare
She was trying to park outside her little car
But she had trouble parking it the way we call right
She looked quite disturbed & wasn’t alright
This truck was waiting & giving her some space
But she was so frustrated & wanted her own place in space
She simply then kicked her car to park it right at the spot
It seemed as if her car was made of some thin board

I was standing by the window & was watching this all
She said people were brutal, they made fun & took her sari off
As if she were insane & was out of her very own mind
Humiliation & tears, she was suffocated at that time
She wanted me to go with her to the same hell party
To tell them she’s not alone & she ain’t no patsy
I said no & took mummy inside our home
All I wanted was to protect her & to give her a quiet zone

I woke up in a shock from my so intense dream
I was all shaken & saddened to the deepest of the deep
My mother was suffering clearly in that unusual scene
She was in pain & I think she wanted also to scream
I felt her presence & the pain as if it’s of my own
All I wanted to tell her – I’m right here, you are not all alone
Those people were no strangers but blood related of her own
Tears in eyes, she’s with me even though her body is gone
I love you…I love you, oh my dearest mom

I am Navin and I am from Denmark. An engineer / CAD technician by profession and I’m quite passionate about it. I express myself, share my experiences and what I realize through my poems, which I publish on my blog https://navinspoems.com/

If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account (if you have one) to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com 

Conjugating Us

I hiss
You dismiss
He/she/it reminisce
They Judge

I evoke
You provoke
He/she/it revokes
They judge

I blurt
You hurt
He /she/it revert
They judge

Catnip Murphy in 5 words. Sane, sober, solvent, gentleman rascal. Proprietor of a blog with a junk shop ethos. Browsing is encouraged. Lost treasure or tatty chintz ? You won’t know until you look. I used to be up and coming but I elected to live a life of vibrant reliability. So now I reflect and muse and write. So drop in, you’ll be very welcome.

www.catnipmurphy.wordpress.com

If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account (if you have one) to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com