Daily Verse
Week 1,July 2023
The Sage & I
By Rupa Anand 7th July 2023
You think you are a wave,
He shows you’re the ocean.
You think you are a ripple,
He shows you’re the water.
You think you are a cloud,
He shows you’re the sky.
You think you are a ray,
He shows you’re the sun.
You think you are a flower,
He shows you’re its beauty.
You think you are a circle,
He shows you’re its centre.
You think you are a lyric,
He shows you’re the song.
You think you are the past,
He shows you’re the present.
You think you are a pot,
He shows you’re the clay.
You think you are a garland,
He shows you’re its thread.
You think you are a colour,
He shows you’re the canvas.
You think you’re the movie,
He shows you’re the screen.
You think you are the writing,
He shows you’re the paper.
You think you are confined,
He shows you’re total freedom.
You think you are some-thing,
He shows you are everything.
You think you are the world,
He shows you are the cosmos.
You think you are a part,
He shows you’re the whole.
You think you’re all of this,
He shows you’re all of That.
You think you are a seeker,
He shows you’re the sought.
You think about your life,
He shows ‘you’ don’t exist.
You think aloud in words,
He indicates in silence.
You think and think and think,
He has no thoughts at all.
Poems
By Jennifer Gurney, 6th July 2023
I opened the book
The words jumped off the page
Straight into my heart
Under the stars
Dancing to live music
Summer comes alive
Fireflies dance
Against the ebony night
Stardust melody
Micro-Poems
By Lorelyn Arevalo, 4th July 2023
this summer
the fireflies return
tiny boats of light
post war
squeaking up and down
an empty seesaw
cheek to cheek
the baby's breath
tastes of milk
Mommy Dearest
By Donna Pucciani 4th July 2023
Mother was a shipwreck
disguised as a woman.
She lay in bed night and day,
lost in her personal tsunami of cabernet,
later flung on the ominous
shores of Gordon’s Gin,
opening up before her
like a neon ocean.
At ten, I’d mark the bottles
to check the alcohol level
that kept her afloat, or not.
And I, drowning in flotsam,
could not fathom why.
Hollyhocks
By Diane Funston, 3rd July 2023
Probably the sky will be of
a different colour,
the air lighter, not smelling corpses
the water clear, not tasting blood
the grass green still, not burnt brown.
Food served after prayers
If those not silenced by explosions.
Cold nights under dark clouds
hiding stars
splashing waves clearing the boats
salty water showing the way to freedom.
Freedom in a world free of fear.
No one loses her dreams to someone’s choice
life would have a reason to live.
Heart never would beat faster than you run –
away from the sharp axes that follow
to chop tender wings and get away with
the grains collected when the sun was shining bright.
Biographies of Poets
Jennifer Gurney lives in Colorado where she teaches, paints, writes and hikes. She is a newly published poet, at age 59, with over 160 poems in print thus far. Jennifer has also published commentary about poetry. During the pandemic she joined the online poetry community of The Daily Haiku.