Rita Marie Recine

Since it is INTERNATIONAL Women’s Day, let’s keep the Canada words rollin’ 🙂


Independent Women*****Resplendent Women

by Rita Marie Recine

I write with affection
The story of independent women
Throughout history women have stood united
They have been raised once, will not be raised again
Independent women who held their own.
Their voices heard and inner self not torn.​

They are strong, the road has been long.
Free as a butterfly
Wings spread to empower,
a vision of splendor.
Independent Women*** Resplendent Women

Shines like the crystal pieces of a star
As lucid and clear as the waters
Flourish and prosper like a beautiful flower
Independent Woman*** Resplendent Women

An independent woman does not need any other to make her efficient.
she is self sufficient.
some decisions have been right, others wrong
the journey is lifelong.

a celebration , a connection ..for the young , from generation to generation
Independent Women***Resplendent Women

Determined, empowered and proud.
no need to please a crowd
They are their own person
not what others wish upon them

kind and sympathetic, affirmative and controlled
soul and mind bind together.

From the
words of Maya Angelou
independent women are phenomenal women
Independent Women ***Resplendent Women

There have been arduous days
empty and endless nights.
gonna win the fight
the rain will turn to sun

the door will close until another one opens
we need to see it…feel it…
You will find if you seek
no need to hide independent women
be proud,
unique in every way.
They have triumphed over troubled waters
they did not falter
standing on their own two feet.

independent woman
a queen in her own palace
her husband is the king
her daughter the princess
strong and kind
Independent Woman***Resplendent women

she will fly to the highest mountain peak… her strength and focus is hers to keep
throughout history we have had independent women…
some flourished others were unnoticed
their voices were unheard

soars in achievement, will not falter in defeat
she will think, ponder and never sink the turbulent waters of her life.. will never dissipate
she is so thankful to be alive

will never fall.. will rise…..for this will carry her afar… to the distance of her potential

I am my own flashlight seeing my way through even when the days get dark
as Maya Angelou would say
phenomenal woman am i
hope, perseverance, no preservation… simply paving a road for the next generation

she is sacred, beautiful, amazing..the essence of time has not let her relinquished the beauty of her inner strength.. to heighten depths

confident, holds her head up high
unique inner strength is revealed
a revelation, celebration
a woman is a gem not a prize… not a token, at times not soft spoken
an independent woman will rise from destruction…. reconstruction
she pays her bills will not stand still
she is efficient, self sufficient
they do not falter
triumphed over troubled waters…grandmothers, mothers and daughters.
they have made it after all
Independent Women*** Resplendent women

a woman… beauty of all the seasons… the independent woman does not need a reason
she will not falter, will rise… up high… will not cry
empowered by societal changes
will not always conform.
rising amidst the ashes of yesteryear.
independent women on a journey
have marched in unity to victory

Independent Women*** Resplendent women
independent women throughout history
embrace, empower, strength, beauty
peace…. release, determination,
leadership from generation to generation

walk proud, hold your head up high
put your hands in the air, dance, smile, write and sing
reach for the moon, the stars and the sky
Independent Women***Resplendent Women
you and I


Rita (green shirt dressy)Rita Marie is a prolific poetess from Canada.  Her poems are wonderful, personal and passionate.  She has her own book of poems on Amazon (click the cover, it’ll take you right to it on Amazon)

Rita's book cover


Sandra Henry


It is cold and lonely

within my restless mind.

Yet I shall take strength

from the tears you shed.

In truth and belief

so I might carry on

in the dawn of my new day.

Thoughts of you inspire

in silence I do see

in darkness I do hear.

My heart feels your light shining

by this, my spirit believes.


Sandra Henry is a poet from Canada. She is a graduate of Trent University where she majored in English Literature. She is a nature lover who enjoys long walks and rainy days. Much of her writing is inspired by Nature’s beauty and fury.

Jagari Mukherjee


Spending a spring morning

Thinking of you

Is to imagine you

As one with the painterly sunlight

And coolest breeze.

Spending a spring morning

Thinking of you

Is to search for your name

In the fine lines on green leaves –

Your name etched with mine.

Spending a spring morning

Thinking of you

Is to offer prayers to my beloved

To hush the thirst

Of the soul.


Jagari Mukherjee is a bilingual poet from Kolkata, India. She is a gold medalist in English Literature from University of Pune. Her writings have appeared in several newspapers, magazines, anthologies, and blogs. Her first book, a collection of poems entitled Blue Rose, was published in May 2017 (Bhashalipi).Jagari1

Rajnish Mishra

Life-long Have I Envied Others Many A Line

Life-long have I envied others many a line.

Will someone ever envy

One of mine?

My verse born now,

Fresh – dead until read.

Someone, anyone, yes, you –

If only you read it!

Would you call it just fine?

Would it not be dead.

Not dead if read?

Not when, but if?

Not good or bad just read?

I thought of writing lines for you:

Of beauty, of strength, of truth.

A song, just one;

Of hope, of inspiration.

Lines on those themes come rarely now,                                                                                                                                               To write that way in these times is a sin.

These vacuous, vacant, little, listless times.

What use of such pursuits,

In a world like ours,

What’s false, what’s true?

Hate, anger, frustration:

Are themes right for you.

My poems although shallow

From my heart’s depths rise.

They lack in the mass of meaning

Have volume of words.

Not style but sense, nor craft but art.

Who wants to say

Just what they want to say, and stop,

When it’s just begun,

Not half the distance run?

When how it’s said,

For how long heard, is half the fun?


Rajnish Mishra is a poet, writer, translator and blogger born and brought up in Varanasi, India and now in exile from his city. His work originates at the point of intersection between his psyche and his city. His work has now started appearing in journals and websites.

Sudeep Adhikari

Multiple Split Impersonalities

When you become one with each droplet

of rain; each aerosol

of evening aches, and

each molecule of morning despair

 when the world closes on you

in the shape of a sphere of infinite radius;

bathing you in a lukewarm

shower of astral lights. When you

become everything you see,

 and the divide dissolves to

form a strong sense

of calm plentitude, that you

can’t express through your binary tools

will you still be lonely, living

in a simulation with multiple split impersonalities?

Sudeep Adhikari is a structural engineer/Lecturer from Kathmandu, Nepal.   His recent publications were with Beatnik Cowboys, Chiron Review, The Ekphrastic Review, Midnight Lane Boutique, Occulum, Silver Birch Press, Eunoia Review, Utt Poetry and Spilling Cocoa Over Martin Amis. His poetry volume “zen of tripping zeroes” was recently released through Alien Buddha Press, USA.

The Poet’s Guide to Not Finding Everything So Terrible in This Terrible World

WebInvestigator.KK.org - by F. Kaskais

Find a little magic in your life—even when it’s shit

by Stuart Messham

There’s a lot happening in today’s world that makes it hard to get out of bed — and we’re not talking about binge-watching Netflix or discounted Egyptian cotton. There’s the escalating lunacy of the Trump presidency. The farce of Brexit. The associated rise and increasing normalization of white nationalism. The ever-spiralling horrorshow of sexually predatory men in positions of power. The galloping climate change, the overt influence of mega-corporations, the looming threat of nuclear conflict — and don’t even get us started on the worrying fact that bags of chips seem to have less chips in them than they used to.

The modern experience is just… well, shit.

How, then, can you see the world through more rose-tinted glasses? How, if one were to be trite, can you view the world the way a poet might, and see the hidden beauty in…

View original post 1,156 more words

Michael Lee Johnson

Classic 70’s Chick (V2)

By Michael Lee Johnson

Classic 70’s chick

scent of these times

gold digger want to be.

Poet & scholar stuck on

T.S. Eliot “The Waste Land.”

She tracks down a few stray men,

prospect hunks, & greenback dreams.

Her long legs stretched out

beneath this dinette table, these

high wooden heels hang out

@ Dusty, Dingy Bar & Grill.

She’s drenched-Charlie by Revlon 1973,

high hopes 4 sugar daddies,

fragile body, insecure but lean.

She wears that hot apple, sex red, jumpsuit.

That yellow bandana hangs

around her neck lowered downtown

below her bosom with a grin.

Her head stuff, insulated with cotton candy dreams

cramped in a Chinese fortune cookie aphorism.

G-String strung up itching @ her buttocks

positioned in spot her world for a change.

In action verbs flow,

this dance, these melodies,

Walt Disney world,

her magic pen, her ink that flows.

Michael Lee Johnson lived ten years in Canada during the Vietnam era and is a dual citizen of the United States and Canada. Today he is a poet, freelance writer, amateur photographer, and small business owner in Itasca, Illinois.  Mr. Johnson published in more than 1016 publications, his poems have appeared in 35 countries, he edits, publishes 10 different poetry sites.  Michael Lee Johnson, Itasca, IL, nominated for 2 Pushcart Prize awards for poetry 2015/1 Best of the Net 2016/and 2 Best of the Net 2017.  He also has 153 poetry videos on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/user/poetrymanusa/videos.  He is the Editor-in-chief of the anthology, Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze:  http://www.amazon.com/dp/1530456762 and Editor-in-chief of a second poetry anthology, Dandelion in a Vase of Roses which is now available here:  https://www.amazon.com/dp/1545352089

Poet Ken Allen Dronsfield

Spirits in the Album

By Ken Allen Dronsfield

Like spider silk woven into human form
grasping at air as it moves and beckons
glides around the metal of an old light pole
Head turning and seeming to look at me.
I ask, if you ever came back to us again,
how annoyed would you be at the traffic?
Would you enjoy computers or cellphones,
but perhaps find them an abomination?
Smiles shining like noon if you returned;
our eyes would twinkle like a winter star
excitement would make the heart flutter;
but you’re only a crispy voice of whispers
indifferent to feeling, or even to breathing
whether lost kindred fallen in a great war
ghost of the battlement, washing clothes,
or kept alive by the memories and pictures
there in the album, on grandmother’s shelf.


Ken Allan Dronsfield is a disabled veteran, poet and fabulist who resides in Seminole, Oklahoma, He is a three time Pushcart Prize and twice Best of the Net Nominee for 2016-2017. Ken loves writing, thunderstorms, walking in the woods at night and spending time with his cats Willa and Yumpy