Poetry corner: Reflections on love and religion


Broken By Virginia George

It’s been tough lately, didn’t know what to do. I said a few prayers, hoping you would show up soon. As I wiped my tears away, it didn’t take long till we were face to face. I read a book about a man, his passion ran and ran. I longed to feel that same thrill in search of you. Once I read how you broke through the chains, I too was confronted with pain. Of starting over, of changing my ways. Conviction ran through me that I could not ignore. You started to break me, I longed for more. Your plan not to compromise is hard to do but I know it’s your love that is driving me through.


I Pray By Nicole Sharp

On knees Through tears And clasped hands ?I pray. With open palms Raised to the sky ? I pray. In silence I hear my words To God’s ears For Him to hear them ? I pray. For guidance, Strength, And knowledge ? I pray. To be what God has planned, To live in His name ? I pray. Hope of forgiveness, Another chance To live for Him ? I pray.


A Sonnet By Virginia George

What drama dost entertain my heart? To love and to have lost is a chance I indeed did take. Should I not be this curious this pondering would not have taken place. Full of life and full of love in search of some noble knight to take thy passions of. And what must one do to secure this vow of truth? To be bold, twas told, that indeed true love’s a muse.

Our Bodies By Maliha Jafri

Have you also noticed we have different bodies here? My legs lounge carelessly over yours Uncaring of the angle and closeness of limbs mine or yours. They do not talk to seduce Skin on skin is just drowsy and friendly. Sand-encrusted feet graze against each other heads thrown back insolently, almost, To a sun unused to our honesty. My hands seem always in yours Fingers tracing the almost-forgotten mounds of your palms. Someone slowed the speed and your kisses are nearly as long as they were when we waited late at night after stealthy dates, a lifetime ago. Our bodies do not fly or fight here They gently rock unto themselves Did you notice? Our bodies are different here.


Impossible By Lauren Robeson

Seven years since I entered its doors; Never have I cared to. I wonder why now and marvel at how quickly my opinions have transformed. If I was what you wanted everything I’m supposed, expected, to be, things would be different. I would be wiser, as would you, and the relief would be breathlessly, impossibly real.