“Why We Are Here” by Ezequiel Piola

No need to argue:
Right here, right now we find
The tables turning. (jf)

Picture by Ezequiel Piola, poetry by Jonathan.

“Why Are We Here” by Ruth Coleman

Why are we here – tormentor of my dreams
Eagerly I look for the logarithm
I felted obliged to admire the daydreams
Only this and caring

Picture and poetry by Ruth Coleman.

“Fast Forward” by Oliver Ritthaler

When they brought me here
Madness had caught my thin nerves,
Silence was screaming.

But then I found out
They all were lost in themselves,
Pushed by decisions.

I sat down, I looked
Inside my soul and found out
Freedom is burden. (jf)

Pictures by Oliver Ritthaler, poetry by Jonathan.

“Forward Shore” by Jordan Bakare

Faker by faker:
Player may be her savor,
Not a naysayer. (jf)

Video by Jordan Bakare, poetry by Jonathan.

“Journey Of A Thousand Colours” by Saurabh Joshi

I’m taking the journey of a thousand colours,
some are new, some are older
some define me, some surprise me
some excite me, some inspire me.

I’m taking the journey of a thousand colours,
These colours are everywhere.
In me, in you, in the heaven & hell
In my tears, and my smiles, and my sweat and my struggle.

I’m taking the journey of a thousand colours, a journey which I don’t want to end.
A journey of colours & wonders & feelings
Of falling, and rising and helping & healing.

I’m taking the journey of a thousand colours and its colours are my prize.

“Journey Of A Thousand Colours” by Saurabh Joshi

Edit and poetry by Saurabh Joshi. Original picture by Ryan Resatka.

“To The God Of Your Mind” by Mike Hundeshagen

-To the god of your mind-

In my mind, there is a sandbox.
In the middle of empty space, great like the outer space.
Thousands and millions of data streams floating through the space.
I grab them and direct them into my little sandbox.
With bare hands, god-like, I transform them into light, pure energy.
Create patterns to visualize their frequency.
And I build monuments of thoughts, not with stones, just with patterns.

Picture and poetry by Mike Hundeshagen.

“Blindfisch” by Evamaria Freshmaker

Vom Regen in die Traufe, ohne Reißleine, steh ich in meiner Idee und die Fische verstummen um mich herum, eingeschlossen ohne gefangen zu sein, obwohl das Ufer nicht weit weg ist. Der Vogel wartet nicht auf dich, lern doch endlich fliegen, sagt Mutter. Türen schließen sich hinter mir, durch transparente Wände wandern Hände, während ich endlos wirkende Stufen erklimme und hoch über mir der blaue Himmel erscheint, der mit deinen Worten meine Gedanken auf Reisen schickt und rotes Bonbonpapier sich vom Wind treiben und fallen und fallen und treiben lässt, bis das Wasser zum Halse steht und nur noch die Fische im Angesicht der Realität fröhlich Saltos schlagen. Und er denkt immer noch, es gäbe eine Liste…

Picture and poetry by Evamaria Freshmaker.

Blindfish

From the rain to the eaves, without a ripcord, I stand in my idea and the fish are silenced around me, trapped without being caught, even though the shore is not far away. The bird does not wait for you, learn to fly at last, mother says. Doors close behind me, hands wandering through transparent walls as I climb endless steps and high above me the blue sky appears sending my thoughts on the road with your words and red candy wrapper dripping and falling and drifting until the water is up to throat and only the fish in the face of reality happily do somersaults. And he still thinks there is a list… (translated by jf)