Happy and delighted to see one of the poems have found a home in Vita Brevis Literature, curated and founded by editor in chief Brian Geiger.I've been closely following the Vita Brevis since the day of its inception and have seen it grow from strength to strength. It's an excellent modern poetry journal which features … Continue reading Poetry published in Vita Brevis Literature-“Blind Justice”
So excited to see the poetry anthology, I’m so honored to be part of,
has been chosen as the 100 Best New Poetry Books to be read in 2019. A list compiled by Arianna Huffington, co-founder of the Huffington Post.
Kindra M. Austin, Candice Louisa Daquin, Rachel Finch, and Christine E. Ray are thrilled to announce that Book Authority has named We Will Not Be Silencedone of the 100 Best New Poetry Books to Read in 2019.
You can see the full list here.
We Will Not Be Silenced is available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble online, and Book Depository.
First Published in the Literary Yard I'm so delighted to see that one of my poems "Lonely Moon" has found a home with TreeHouse Poetry Magazine. So thankful to the editor Natasha Ganes for giving me this wonderful opportunity to be part of their flourishing magazine. TreeHouse is an online magazine filled with works of fiction, … Continue reading Poetry published in the TreeHouse Arts-“Lonely Moon”
“Mysteries of attraction could not always be explained through logic. Sometimes the fractures in two separate souls became the very hinges that held them together.”
― Lisa Kleypas, Devil in Winter
That insatiable thirst
which rises from the depth of my soul
and devours me like a wildfire
this incessant need
to be wrapped around your soul
like an unstoppable contagion
this is the fever which is catching on
I’m getting drawn in
I love your lies
and I can slurp your deception
till that last drop
which quenches my thirst
and satiate my parched soul
You can pretend it not meant to be
but I can see the swirl of passion
in the black of your eye
and like a laughter hidden in the trees
I can find your fragments buried in me
that surge of emotions
my soul is tainted by the carnal desire
like a festering wound
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This is where it was beautiful
This is where it hurts the most
This is where I made the
most pleasant memories
That is where I regret the most
This was there everything stopped
This is where everything
started to fester.
This is where the night became the day
There was where rolled another day
This is where my heart got lost
And this is where I got everything
and finally belonged
This is where I got ahead of time
That’s the moment I called
How much have you
pinned in your memories?
How much have you
To turn over and glance at them
when you are nearing the end.
First featured on the Free Verse Revolution I can hold your hands till you bleed till your soul is absolved of all the sins and predilections till you skin is wiped clean off all the scars and voice is cleansed from all the expletives to get the searing pain washed off your soul I can … Continue reading I can wait
First published in Indian Periodical, August 2018
Our whole life is nothing but a sine wave
the rise and fall of our deeds decide our fate
the crest and trough of our wealth
decides our relations and friends
The ups and downs of our life
decide about the strength
and grit in our character
and the lows and highs in the life
tests our faith.
Anybody showing you the mirror
otherwise is a bad reflection of reality
a distorted reality
based on the dark and dystopian future
which will suffocate any
hope for your fragile
will prejudice your dignity
You are on a rollercoaster with no breaks
the speed and the place
where you stop
decodes your faith
so stop believing in destiny
and pull your own breaks
carve those lines in stones
let them see the daybreak
Cause no one can ever tell you
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First Published in the Ariel Chart Days of uncertainty ruffling its feathers until it gets the last drop of water squeezed out of it. The feeling of nothingness which exists between the certainty of a heartbeat and the uncertainty of the last breath the dichotomy of the truth still exists in various shades Truth is … Continue reading Dichotomy
I'm so delighted to see my poem finds it home in the Canadian Literary Arts Journal Literary heist. So thankful to the editor Ryan Brinkhurst who has given me the opportunity. Literary Heist( a signatory of Pw.org) is a Canadian Literary Journal which is published quarterly on the 21 of every quarter and the digital … Continue reading Poetry published in Winter Issue of Literary Heist- “Simple Beliefs”
Inspired by the Writing prompt given by the FIVE 2 One on Twitter Those fleeting winds riding the angled ends of the metal plate life hides its inspiration in smallest of things a haphazard moment, a ripple in time, or a floating dandelion swayed away by the merciful winds they still seem to fulfill the purpose of sharing … Continue reading Wings of change
I'm so happy and delighted to see my poem gracing the opening of this beautifully curated and gorgeous magazine. Please read my poem "Interchangeable" as in the digital publication of the Scrittura Magazine. So thankful to the editors to give me the opportunity to be featured alongside talented writers. Scrittura Magazine is the UK based … Continue reading Poetry published in the winter issue of the Scrittura Magazine-“Interchangeable”
“The quiet sense of something lost”
― Alfred Tennyson
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First Published in the Madness Muse Press You are broken and torn apart at multiple places not an inch has been left on your soul which has not been branded by his violent displays You weep and yelp at the slightest of his touch bleeding like a soulless animal you are dragged everywhere Your heart wrenching … Continue reading Broken
Come read the beautifully curated poems on the theme of “Frost and Dew”. So thankful to the editor Marie Lightman to have featured my two poems in this issue.
by Peter J. King
Spring Frost in Churchill, Oxfordshire
by Peter J. King
Sunlight thickens on the tower
that stands outside my window;
I can almost feel the limestone soaking up
the heat, like toast absorbing butter.
But on the village green that’s shadowed
by the church, the grass is white
with morning frost, and dogs and walkers
leave their trails of darkened prints.
A sudden squall of hail, and then again
the sun. Behind the tower, watery but clear,
a rainbow links the hills to either side.
Jackdaws rise together, scatter,
sliding down the icy air and up again,
out of the shadow, into warmer heights.
I shiver slightly, reaching for a log
to place upon the waning fire, and
think about the Earth’s slow, teasing orbit.
by Peter J. King
Now, having paused, I must be quick.
I give my…
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