THE SQUAD

Adam Danial - Home Alone | Syed Muhammad Daniel - The Theoretic Turtle | Aresya Sara - The People Upstairs | Noor Syakirah - I Am Not Old

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THE PEOPLE UPSTAIRS

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The people upstairs all practise ballet Their living room is a bowling alley Their bedroom is full of conducted tours. Their radio is louder than yours, They celebrate week-ends all the week. When they take a shower, your ceilings leak. They try to get their parties to mix By supplying their guests with Pogo sticks, And when their fun at last abates, They go to the bathroom on roller skates. I might love the people upstairs more If only they lived on another floor. BIODATA ·          One of the most widely appreciated and imitated writers of light verse. ·          Frederic Ogden Nash ·          He was born in Rye, New York, on August 19, 1902. ·          Parents: Edmund Strudwick and Mattie Nash. ·          Nash attended Harvard College, but dropped out after only one year. · ...
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I AM NOT OLD

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My eyes are fine; they are just printing words small. I just use a walking stick to seem stately and tall. Nothing is wrong with my sense of smell. My ears are fine if you don't whisper but yell. The wrinkles are just laugh lines; they will go away. It is fashion that has turned my hair from black to grey. It's the cold, not age that is stiffening my knees. I like to hum as I walk; it's not a wheeze. What extra kilos? My scale is broken down. If I try, I can still fit into my wedding gown. My bones don't creak; my shoes are new. My memory is sharp. Oh, do I know you? BIODATA ·          Nandita Shailesh Shanbhag, born in India. ·          She loves to express her thoughts in verses so if her poem can touch a heart or heal a soul, Nandita feels like she fulfilled her objective. ·          Nandita is motivated by her parents, sister and friends, and is encourag...
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HOME ALONE

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  My family's gone; there's no one home. It's only me who's home alone. I shouldn't hear a single squeak. There shouldn't even be a creak, So what's that thumping that I hear? It must mean one thing: death is near. "You're an adult, you'll be just fine." I tell myself as I dial "nine"... Was that a knock upon the door? My heart beats faster than before I know it's closed; I've checked the lock. At least my killer knows to knock? I cannot sleep, though I'm in bed. I've made amends with God instead. If He decides that it's my time, Then this will be my very last rhyme. I hear a bang and then a break. My head shoots up; there's no mistake! I turn my music volume high So I won't hear the way I die. I run upstairs, desk lamp in hand. Over my head, ready to land, And right before it did just that.. I remembered - I have a cat BIODATA ·          Unknown poet ·          Published poems titled Dreaming ...
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