A Melody Called Peace. Scott Johnson
Too ignorant to establish a fascistic round of affairs
But swims with his errors so joyfully debonair
His cabinet is glutinous with a round table of CEOs
who further their madness with their contemptible host.
Lost are the lobbyists who have become superfluous
While his processes are deplorable and most disastrous
Chasing the illegal aliens across his guarded borders
Building his Chinese Wall with a payment he does order.
Oops the release of a tape from access Hollywood appeared
A raucous, vulgar and sexist, so he was condemned with utmost fear.
Oh my mother of mercy hear my prayers and my earnest beckoning plea
Save the world and return it to the common people of empathy.
31
Resolving the Temperaments of Persuasion to Encourage
Resolving the temperaments of persuasion to encourage
the initiation of individualism prompting self-motivation
to command original conceptions bringing variations in multitudes.
Inner contentment and personal growth bring our heritage
to center stage heralding in a phase of manifestations.
Ascertaining our imaginative courses as they escape in reveries
conceiving an animated sketch to portray our plenitudes
overextending our flair to encompass our singularity.
Witnessing our flow of thought to be our will of pilgrimage
as we meander through various paths of stipulation
encountering a myriad of reflections in our personal imagery.
Captivating our multifaceted shades of blue will engage
the naivety of our childlike exuberance and fascination.
Rollicking like the fawn appraising Nature’s simplicity
has rescued our fondness for the crystals of a snowflake
as each passes through our consciousness unscathed.
Luxuriously inspirited with rhythmical passages bring pulsations
gesturing nuances of excitation enkindling flames to awake.
Bewitching the landscape with embellishing decorations
invokes the forest nymphs to electrify us, compassionate and interlaced
enthralled in movement, as a form of ingenuity we will undertake.
Preserving the inception of this stream of apprehension and sensibility
we flourish through modernistic and futuristic impressions paraphrased
as such to build understanding and increase our dancing’s intensity.
Gentle whispers shall utter the unrevealed and enigmatic prelude
hence arriving suddenly is a fugal counterpoint and ultimate solitude.
Invigorating melodious transitions will envelop an idiosyncrasy
as it distinctly fluctuates transforming itself as we all partake
in conjunction with a congregation of an angelic soul’s sentimentality.
With our hands extended full of preciousness and reverent gratitude
we enhance our environment exuding our positiveness as we wake
the slumbering giants from their lethargic winter’s hibernation.
Resonating our eleven strings to ring majestically, our beatitude
comes forth as the divinity of our creativeness becomes our reality.
Fashioned is the art deco above the streets of this godly city
to lionize its gorgeousness and inspire our universality.
1
A summer Vision
By Ellias Aghili Dehnavi, from Iran
A lonely sunflower dances in the field.
Bright petals smile and salute
Clouds of the skies above.
Doves cross the field with their opened wings.
They rest in the sunflower's shadow.
Bees flying over a child.
Licking her melting ice cream.
Meet the sunflower.
A calf in the wheat field scatters the flies.
In the days of summer.
He eats and sleeps
While the sunflower parties with the bees and doves.
2
A Winter Paradox
It is freezing cold but my little bird sings.
Though the cruel coldness stings
The creature in the heart.
It's winter! Her sad ditty does impart.
The winter comes and lasts forever.
Like a camarilla, trained to take whatever
That is still green
Nothing his might does intervene.
It's so cold but truly pretty
The thick ices which are gritty
Crumble under our feet
While we pass the white street.
The crystals cover out earth like a shroud
But underneath there live a crowd
Who watch the beauty of snow
While somewhere else a tiny bud does grow.
3
Abandoned Angels
She was fifteen and the hellion was seventy five
So rich, but hardly walk and hardly alive.
Blowing his cigarette's smoke right to her face
Laughing hard at the poor woman's disgrace.
Became pregnant when she was thirteen
She was forced to work hard, was beaten, poor Kirstein.
.You're abandoned since you're a girl" then slapped her face
Laughing like a monster at Kirstein's disgrace.
Her father sold her when she was eleven
Thinking she is leaving for the heaven
While there were tears on her face
She whispered:" is this an end to my disgrace?"
She can never forget when she was nine
After her father had drunken wine.
Beat Kirstein and her mother on the face
Under his boots her mother couldn't brace.
Now abandoned for the second time
With a baby, burnt face, her loneliness no words can rhyme ,
The sound of hails on her face
Even