We Invite You to Join us as we Celebrate National Poetry Month!
WHEN:
APRIL 19, 2025
2:30-4:30 P.M.
WHERE:
WEST PULLMAN LIBRARY
830 W. 119TH STREET
CHICAGO
There will be food, fun, and various poets sharing their works for your enjoyment!
Open Mic
from 3:30-4:30 p.m.
Hope to see you there!
GUIDE
This is my fantasy:
To hold you in my arms,
To heal your sore wounds,
To help you forget about your past,
To help you grow above and beyond
Your self-imposed limitations. I want to
Offer you a garland of flowers, a holy
Symbol to encourage your soul to touch
The sun instead of wallowing in self pity
And welcoming the oblivion of darkness.
I want you to discard passivity and embrace
The sky like a mom clings to her adorable baby.
I want you to look within and discover the core of
Your being instead of seeking validation from carping
Critics and manipulative people who don’t care for you.
I want you to discover and pursue your hobbies and
Interests and stay engaged with the flow of life, my love.
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True Friend
I know you feel upset, my dear,
But, rest assured, your moody blues
Will not last forever. The tide will
Turn and you will feel whole again,
Friend. Please listen to me, for a change,
We can feel young again: despite the
Passage of time, we have the potential
To age like fine wine in the lush, green
Fields of Southern France. Kindly give
Me a chance to make it up to you. If
You cry, I will wipe away the tears
From your eyes. I will rush to your
Rescue and protect you from fair
Weather friends: they want to party
Hard and celebrate life at your expense.
But through the ups and downs, you and I
Will soldier on. That is why I created this song.
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The muse cannot be summoned like a
Cultural ambassador working for an embassy
Or consulate located on foreign shores: the
Muse needs room to breathe. I prayed like a
Monk in a Bhutan temple, but the muse refused
To visit me. I danced like a Sufi dervish under
The dome of an azure blue sky, but the muse
Ignored me. I started to sing and praised the muse,
But my divine inspiration ran away like a cheetah
In Africa. I woke up, suddenly, in the middle of the
Night, drenched in sweat: the muse appeared and
Whispered in my ear in a soft and silky voice: I
Will show up in your life, poet, but only on my
Terms and conditions. Your prayers and songs
And dances won’t help, for I dance to the beat
Of my own drummer. I am unpredictable like
The weather. Wait for me: patience is a virtue.
Greetings, Readers!
I hope that 2025 finds you enjoying a wonderful start, and keeping warm. This brief post is to share some recent news of potential interest.
Poets United to Advance the Arts will resume its usual creative programs and educational workshops starting in February, 2025.
We invite you to come celebrate with us. To start the roster of activities out, we'd love for you to join us for a fun-filled forum at the West Pullman Library. The details are as follows:
Why judge?
Are you the thought police?
Why even try to command, control and coerce?
Instead, let the narrative and conversation flow
Like the Niagara Falls, gushing, gurgling, playfully.
Let the fish swim upstream, downstream or in-between.
Our good and dear Lord gave birth to creativity, not you.
So why are you trying to play God?
Why are you busy banning books?
Art is meant to provoke and stimulate.
If that offends you, so be it.
Drink poison. Drink nectar. Drink 💦 water.
That's what life is about: hence, art.
Nobody really cares about your ego:
If your skin itches, well, go find another one.
Turn your face away from the gloomy
Clouds, open your window, welcome the sun.
Bio:
Dr. Archan Mehta has earned a PhD. in Management. Currently, he is a Consultant and Writer based in India. In his free time, he likes to stroll the outdoors and party with close friends. He is also fond of meditation. Please feel free to reach out to the poet at archanm@hotmail.com at your convenience.
