What is Love?
I cannot find,
A hostage in the hands of time.
People say how good it is,
To love like ants,
And singing bees.
Men think they know,
Why it never dies.
In Love's ancient life.
Why hearts broken,
If it be like honey
I ate a fruit,
It tasted like love (I fell in love)
The bitter melons I adore.
Love's life is filled with emptiness,
Grown in hearts of callousness.
Wonder why Love runs away,
The ones it knows.
Love died in me one rainy day.
Germina Melius is an emerging writer, Book Reviewer, and Research Assistant. Her literary work has been featured in The Caribbean Writer Magazine, Business Focus Saint Lucia, Inner Child Press' Anthology (writers for humanity) , PoetryandCovid, Haiku Corner, Haiku Foundation blog: Troutswirl, Ginyu Magazine, World Haiku Anthology, Failed Haiku, and ...
‘Go to school, study hard, the money will come.' John's father preached his sermon.
John did only one.
Her father's hands extend beyond the land.
Her hands are sealed like the mouth of his vault.
Trembling with every grasp, his wrinkled hands
will never find their youth.
From the gloomy dust, I rise from Hades' spell to see the sun's glory on a splendid morning.
The inner man greets me.
Rise from the clay that binds you, and from the gutter's belly.
Rise to see your Father's radiant face watching the human soul.
You walk on moons, but I see pitch, and unpaved roads.
I walk on the crust of land, and envy ships swimming on water.
The world walks on its hurting soul, and on ancient bones.
Children bare feet, travel on unpaved roads,