Alive Writer's Society Poetry Podcast: Recent Episodes
Alive Writer's Society
A seasonal, weekly podcast, presented by the members of Alive Writer's Society, in partnership with Dots Publications.
Poetry has the power to mend a broken day. Join Tilok Adnan, lyricist/songwriter and poet along with Shaira Afrida, Editor of LAMP Poetry Anthology for a weekly podcast featuring budding and established poets and their beautiful poems. If you are an aspiring writer/poet or a poetry enthusiast who can not stop quoting poems on a daily basis, this is the perfect podcast for you!
A seasonal, weekly podcast, presented by the members of Alive Writer's Society, in partnership with Dots Publications. --- In Partnership with Dots Publications https://dotspublications.com/ Intro Music: They Say by Unminus https://soundcloud.com/unminus/they-say --- #poetry #podcast #alivewriterssociety #dotspublications
A seasonal, weekly podcast, presented by the members of Alive Writer's Society, in partnership with Dots Publications. --- In Partnership with Dots Publications https://dotspublications.com/ Intro Music: They Say by Unminus https://soundcloud.com/unminus/they-say --- #poetry #podcast #alivewriterssociety #dotspublications
Virtual Gravity
Ehsan. A. Mehedi
I make good coffee,
I love leaning against the window panes.
The coffee tastes bad today,
The window panes are stony today—
Today I touch your cold smooth skin,
You flatten your lips, then a smile,
And a kiss.
The warmth and cold mingle;
But it doesn't glow today.
I am caged from the world, and
The window panes are my forever sky.
Mixing my imagination with coffee beans
And creating you—
You aren't here today, although you are.
You; my imagination makes my world everlasting,
A world lifeless, dull and timeless.
I did not open my eyes until today,
And my coffee tastes bad today;
But these aren't my faults.
I wish they were or maybe my true friends.
I want to credit them because I am leaving you
And they helped me.
So I will keep on making good coffee,
I will look away with my eyes open
To the real world
And be me with time and live.
And you won't be there to bother me
Because you are getting out of my head, today.
A Scarecrow and All the Love in the World Zannatul Ferdous Tulona And I waited and waited with a bouquet made from All the Love in the World, as time rustled at my feet, growing restless as snow, hail and heaven crash landed on me and eventually, withered to dust and my nails grew big like a scarecrow, I stood, unmoved only sometimes, a wheezing cough( or perhaps, a laugh?) rattled it’s way out of my empty ribs as if to remind the walls of the many tall towers that towered over me, that I still remained and my nails grew big a tooth, the last of the few, fell of my rotten jaw and bumped on to a curious child who adopted it as an antique on silent nights it whispered to him surreptitiously that I still lived, and my nails grew big. A meteor passed the skies above the world shifted, and passed away but still, the guardians of the realms, Gods and Goddesses Angels and Demons and there less virtuous minions never remembered to tell me, to end my wait and I still stayed, and my nails grew big. ---- In Partnership with Dots Publications https://dotspublications.com/ Intro Music: They Say by Unminus https://soundcloud.com/unminus/they-say
A seasonal, weekly podcast, presented by the members of Alive Writer's Society, in partnership with Dots Publications.
Episode 2:
Bird on The Sill
Rushlan Shabib Murshed
The water kept running
The painter stood still
The balloon swam across the room
A bird on the sill
And I stared right into the eyes of the tiger
And he stared back
I saw right through his intent to kill me
But I didn't move
He did
He moved around on his four paws
Eyeing me
Trying to weaken me
Gnarling at me
Kill me
But the beauty of being provoked
Is in its silence
The bouncing heart
Bouncing in the hand of a tennis player
Getting ready to serve
But never does
A steady bounce
A steady heart
A steady stare
Like the still of the water
Before a storm
Which never comes
And the water kept running
The painter stood still
The balloon swam across the room
(And) the bird still on the sill
In Partnership with Dots Publications https://dotspublications.com/
Intro Music: They Say by Unminus https://soundcloud.com/unminus/they-say
Aimless Rise — poem
by Zach Klebaner
The blanket is removed.
The phone is checked. 4 PM.
It’s time to get you from daycare.
I’m hungry as hell, and honestly,
Still tired. I slip into sandals.
Start the stride down the road.
The birds chirp like an awakening
That hasn’t dawned. The sun is
Absorbed into my body beneath
This canopy of leaves. All the glass
Has broken underneath the imagination’s
Rainbow play. Now, as a bewildered eye
I perceive what very well may be my opposite:
You as vehicle for my mind roar like a tiger
And insist on walking over the rocks.
“Upstairs can really use new management”
I think as presents escape me
Like the blanket I miss.
Intro Music: They Say by Unminus