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I’m poet Guy Farmer and I created The Poet Community to feature thoughtful, original, contemporary poetry from poets worldwide.


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Fish Condominiums | A Poem by Ryan Quinn Flanagan

The casual way I flipped through the pages sickened me
I thought of typhoid fever in the sub-tropics
shipwrecks that become fish condominiums under the sea
the homeless man outside in the rain who never once smiled
for lack of teeth
and the way I watched the stairs to see the legs
that would come down them,
then the faces which were always a disappointment,
I felt a sudden aversion
as though distaste and fasting had become the same thing
when I wasn’t looking…
closing my eyes to sun tracers
I decided to flip through six more pages,
then be done with the thing.

Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and many bears that rifle through his garbage. His work can be found both in print and online in such places as: Evergreen Review, The New York Quarterly, In Between Hangovers, Red Fez, and The Oklahoma Review.

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The Burning Sun | A Poem by Seshendra Sharma

I am the drop of sweat, I am the sun
Rising from the hills of human sinews,
Hearts are my friends
I live in the city of sufferings
Although in my fist, I hold an ocean of history
I sculpted man silently –
Wings that carried birds
Did not bring them back;
I am drinking thick darkness
In the haunts of those forests
Which cry out in agony for the birds
That did not return;
Clutching at the garment woven of memories
I twine myself to the feet of my country.
Heads that were hanging from the trees
Smile as flowers today in the branches
Hearts that received the bullets
Ring in temples of our land like bells;
Blood of their nights squeezed and offered
By how many to bring forth this day;
They are hanging like icicles
On the ridges of our roofs;
Look, it is an iron fist I have;
I shall excavate the flame of light
From the rocks of time –
I will set fire to the sleep of resisting centuries –
To the rivers that run in passion after the sea
I cry halt, command them
To paint the colourless arid lands in green,
Invite back the smile which fled away
In terror from this land,
To the butterfly trudging hungrily for a flower
I shall give a garden –
Come children, eat
Bits of nights dipping them in moonlight,
I shall not allow the sun to cheat this sacred day;
If he wakes not on the horizon of this land
I shall tear my burning heart
And put it in its place
With the scarlet of my living flesh
Illuminate the earth
I am the drop of sweat, I am the sun
Rising from the hills of human sinews

Visit Seshendra at and

Transformations | A Poem by Bonnie Burka Shannon

Their journey
Had just begun
Or so
It seemed
An existence
Consisting of
Gliding smoothly
From summer
To summer

Blessed with
Good health
Attractive façades
Toned bodies
And ample energy
All part of
Their summer package
At the beach

Then unexpected
Searing pain
That caused
An inability to float
With the
Summer breezes
Not the same summer
Not the same summer
At all

Health dilemma
Over soon?
They thought
While minimizing the
Diminished appearance
Weakened body and
Reduced energy
Of her soul

Then came alarm
Diagnoses absolute
Two intermingled findings
Stated In
Clipped tones
By a specialist
With little interest

Time catches up
They realized
With thoughts
Expressed wordlessly
In facial expressions

Hard to believe
Harder to accept
Even as bad news
With daunting diagnoses
She was
Not giving up
Never giving in

One step
At a time
Her brain said
One day
At a time
She told
Her friends

Visualizing cures
She pushed through mush
Though getting there slowly
Two steps forward
One step backward

But almost there
Almost there

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On the Verge of Fall | A Poem by Kara D. Spain

Just around the bend,
wagon wheels will be on the mend
Oiled gears will ready themselves
Hay will be stacked in neatly rolled bales

Golden strands of straw so sweet,
cotton candy will stick to our teeth
Corn will be popping, within warm air
the vibrant smell of carnival fare

Crisp winds will wrap us in gusts of love,
enlivening our senses to the sky above
Its briskness will awaken the child in us all,
evoking within us the excitement of Fall