It is 2012 within the season of autumn in that year.
Humankind knows not whether to be sad or cheer.
A new sphere arrived; they call it planet kunzite.
In an orbit opposite of earth, aligned perfectly right.
Was it our doom, or salvation we awaited a sign.
Upon the next moon, our answer came so divine.
Planet kunzite was to be our new home to live.
To go in peace and harmony with only love to give,
No more wars or anger for any human to spread,
In the stars surrounding, words are there to be read.
Kunzite a jewel for everyone, especially new born,
So upon each morning a new greeting shall adorn.
P aranoia permeates, etching itself into your fractured face,
A cacophony of constant pressure; life remains a stressful race,
N othing to hope for, no positives like promotion in the workplace,
I nability to love, relationships lift anchor and set sail without chase,
C hildren crushing dreams under mortgages; age grows with disgrace
Why all this Destructions? – Zamreen Zarook
God created this whole universe for the mankind,
He gave everything lavishly, thinking that we might be kind,
Even though people are able, they seems to be blind,
Whereas people failed to mind.
The sky which was created for the man started to scream and cry,
Since good morals and ethics were decry,
The fire started to do the mimicry,
As the water lands cannot bear, it came to man with a battle cry.
Land couldn't hold and it started to gorge,
Fresh air merged with chemicals and started to urge,
Whatever created for the man have started to over charged,
Stop evil and let the merits be enlarged.
Once in my life, breast cancer, I did not know.
Which was lost, and what would be gained.
I could not see, beyond her glow
Faith and strength carried and remained.
Unfinished things of her dreams come slow
These were not to be lost, our love holds true
Loss of her alluring game would not matter, I did say
In life and love, she is stuck to me with glue
She is more than any loss, which may take away.
Pink in October shapes her autumn sky.
More beautiful now she faces its lie.
Sunshine wakes her in a moonlights lure.
Fighting like a girl, she wins the war.
Dancing as a woman she captures pink ardor.
She is more than a woman, my lady, my love.
Pink, pink, pink color beyond her despair,
Trials and tribulations, rising glow,
She has won her fight; in the pink, breast cancers beware.
India is a land full of festivities,
Lots of relaxation to the Indians surely it gives-
Most of these are ceremony leaves -
Some are due to great men's deeds.
All direction does it cheer-East,West,North,South,
It fills with sweets every big and small mouth,
The year begins with the New Year,
Every 'life' remains busy sending cards to nears and dears.
The 26th January follows-the day of our constitution,
The Gandhi Jayanti makes us realise the power of his non-violence vision.
The Saraswati Puja Specially for the students,
During which they pray for the result in the forthcoming examinations.
15th August is the day of glory,
The Indians on the graves of sacrifice respect garlands of flory.
5th September is celebrated as the Teachers's day,
This is the day when wisdom feels proud and gay.
The Ganesh Chaturthi,The Durga puja comes with the chill in the Autumn sky,
Joy seems unlimited ,time seems to fly;
Like the enjoyment a child gets on seeing a muticoloured butterfly;
Near and dear ones return home in flights-
When the sky is rent with dazzling 'Diwali Lights'.
Soon after a month-the festival X-mas fills us with lot of fun,
It comes when the weather cools the hot sun.
These are some and there's many others-
Which make our mind light as a feather.
The written festivals are some of the noted-
But there are so many that they can't be jotted.
from Salt Lake City
(1) In this great nation, the
United States of the America,
People who had been
residing for quite a while,
And if you have never
ever been to Salt Lake City
Should come and visit
without hesitation at least in a
To all our friends, treat
this as an Invitation, who-so-
(2) Although Summer time is
relatively gorgeous to stay
It rivaled the heat of our
Golden Land of Myanmar
Far exceeding the
temperatures all day.
Also in the open season of
Spring that we all admire
There are lots of Canyons
to go around if one desires.
(3) In times of Autumn
Season, when leaves fall
Whirling to the ground
like a chopper,
Little birds work hard to
stock supplies for winter long
According to the mundane
nature that never falter
As humans, like the
Avians, we labored year round
Our people donating a
cent, if earned a dime
To consolidate good deeds
in next life all the time
That is the real goal of
Myanmar people that all shine.
(4) Winter solstice is the
coldest of all the time
Snow caps the mountain
peaks, serenely and beautifully,
Embracing the city and its
lakes magnificently fine
The beauty and the grace
of the City that is
Sights and sceneries
embed in your memories that
This is the Salt Lake City,
our domicile that outshines.
By Dr Ko Ko Thein
Salt Lake City
That half grown chrysanthemums/
Stirring up like accuser's.
Life is compared with what two things ?
Which do you think is the richer more revealing comparison ?
Poets use many symbols/
Geese flying south can be a symbol,
Of that of approaching winter/
Heart's symbolize love,
In this brief expanse we call life,
One may want to cry out in a revolt ?
Other's simply take in a breathe of fresh air/
Ponder that many other's that don't even care ?
We all must become united in this great cause !
Not to use this concept loosely/
Yet to humbly ponder a thought,
What do you all think tells a more detailed story ?
The poem or the picture ?
Love can grow out of a billowing cry/
Perhaps a cut nor a mere stye in the eye ?
The seventies had embarked on this journey/
Not to mention that of Timothy Leary ?
This took us to a vast opened door !
To break on through to the other side/
Lest I emplore,
Still we have every bit of reason in which to grasp/
That lattice decor to that shine on the asp,
A sweet juice filled with fine honey nectar/
The future resources,
Allow the creative poet/
To begin to explore the valley of much more !
In gaining the proper word/
Fresh out of the Autumn air !
I do not know?
for bruce springsteen...
it was a rain-swept monsoon day
way back then, so many moons away
when i felt the music strumming in my veins
setting me free like a runaway horse without any reins
you sang of simple truths,
your verse spoke to people just like me
in my lonely, wasted, and desolately quiet night
as you screamed out tragic human wrongs, and of everyone's plight
'bobby jean' spoke to me
of that girl down the street
glimpses of whom, we as innocents would furtively meet
and 'the river' that flowed through my ever-barren heart
led me down further roads of thunder
when slowly i finally learnt that the hardest part was fighting on
and never to surrender
to the hard-luck dreams that were born to run
while i danced in the dark
with memories vivid and stark
even as i whined like that dog who for forever lost his howling bark
and then a 'human touch' came along
and 'better days' seemed real, not just words in a song
and still you sang and swayed and spoke straight into my unseeing eyes
as gardens of secrets were opened, and as your fist punched the skies
in an anger that i too felt and in whose cauldron i too burned
as we saw murder get incorporated, while on its wobbly axis, our fragile world apathetically turned
and then suddenly i was told that i was all grown up
working on a highway of scattered ideals
and absolving myself by sprinkling some coins in a waiting cup
well, after all these years of walking along so many a thorny road
with an armour of your verse covering me, even as i hear them taunt me and even as they continue to goad
but now i can feel myself fading away, into the bleakness of this coming night
just like the ghost of that old tom joad...
Tall terrace housebow-fronted windows
Opulescent green lined walls silk paper
18th century French marquetry pattern
Glowing dressing table walnut veneer
Smoked salmon kisses heart on sleeve
That color does become her kitchen
A glimpse of yellowing autumn trees
Stately home ancient lake full of fish
Pot of coffee polished mahogany table.
Beautifully raised gaze. .Private moment .
enormously enjoyed each others comp
Ushered out....gates slid quietly together
delicate cabriole legs. oyster satin fabric
Loin of pork , leg of lamb , frozen cake.
Dropped out of school
At an early age
Lived on the streets
Because, I disgusted my mother
She thought I was a poor example
Of true Christian beliefs
At an early age
She religiously drummed into me
‘blood is thicker than water’
Here I am today confused, lonely and hungry
No one protecting me
No home to go too
Just, peoples eye for an eye,
tooth for a tooth mentality
Praying for the sun to shine
To feel some warmth again!
Sun rays of hope, lighting me up
To live through this darkness without fear
With a heart full of faith
No matter what happens to me, now!
If only I could drink my salty tears
It would sustain me for a lifetime
Your tears are worth nothing, around here
You’re classed as weak and venerable
Only attracting death
Your life worth nothing!
Save me from myself
I am my best friend
I am my worst enemy
My prayers and dreams
Lost in the wind
Blowing around like autumn leaves
The rain washing them away
Down the drain into the sewage
Rolling with the seasons
Year after year
Survival for the fittest!
Surviving on the love
Hidden, inside me
Being my strength and guide
My personal lifeline
In surviving this crazy world
We all live in
The beauty I see in things
makes me so sad....
For when I find something beautiful,
It may never be quite that way again.
A summer day
an autumn breeze
a color in a sunset....
your warm hand held in mine.
Why do i still hear your name....
in my head....
My soul still whispers to God for you
without me even thinking....
That sweet old dream of being in your arms
my frame stood secure in yours
You were thin and warm and sturdy.....
soft coat of yours so cozy.................
Your face emanating ‘happy’....
Too soon, you began to fade away......
In tears I closed my eyes
and held on tight.....
Oh, I couldn’t bear to watch you disappear again
But I felt it, all right.....
I’ll stuff in the dark of my mind
in an ebony box
And keep it so tightly shut....
Tied with a long, dripping ribbon of blood
And thus my healing has begun.....
But I’ll still be on the run.........
No love deserves to live so long...
then die alone, so painfully.
Never again will this soul feel so trapped---
A red, orange, brown fuss
in autumn once more
as fog comes upon us
Halloween ghouls to the door
The trees turning yellows
rains tumult and pour
winds blow cold with a roar
and puddles they widen
until they're almost a lake
then out we need go
for the leaves we must rake
So we dig out our gloves
and we wrap round our scarfs
Then we shop for our loves,
friends and then some other halves
For Christmas approaches
but fireworks come first
as Guy Fawkes encroaches
kids pennies do thirst
Then it's time for the lights
as the children do sing
And Santa's nearly in sight
while the church bells do ring
Then Jesus Christ's birth
we will try to remember
the meaning of 'worth'
on 25th of December.
From the US poetry community
there is silence about this new war
they feel indignity
something must be done even if they
know the sins of their own country.
It is easier to be morally right
There is this bitter taste of poetry that
remains unwritten, to be
ostracized and rejected for writing
what bothers them about the sureness
of the righteous.
There is a Russian TV station, in English,
has been blocked in USA.
One truth is enough, alternative truths
are too cumbersome.
Shoot first and ask questions later,
the sheriff mentality rules ok.
And those who think it is a sham will
be hunted down to the end of the world.
So what can an American poet do but
to write about the snow in Nebraska
I want to erase this present tense of disgrace
in my life and quietly sway like a night bloom,
waiting for great Northern stars and the moon
to satiate my spark less eyes and to embrace
Me with their warmest winks. You see, I dream
of morn seagulls, scattered like Autumn leaves
and wish to share them a breath that still lives
and my imaginative thoughts, sitting on cream
Summer dawn with a bottle of pungent aroma
for a companion. Let me, please, be me! Erase,
erase in my life the present tense of disgrace;
let my dream dreams, free from your enigma!
Adages Pt. 1 (the cloud)
I am just baggage to the world
Cast away and forgotten
An entire life
Waiting for something
Every so often a random passerby
We exchange formal soliloquy
Just talking to ourselves
Wondering if anyone really hears
They always keep a lock on my eyes
To desperate to admit sad truths
Pretend they’re giving me sound advice
When just quoting old adages to themselves
“Follow the sun,
For in the light shining upon all
You will find the way”
The same response
Every time runs through my head
“What of the clouds
Stealing the light from my eyes
They always gather around me
Darkening my life
“And what of deep night
Where I sink into despair
Alone and sinking in a world
Where no one seems to care”
They don’t seem to hear my words
Just keep ranting their securities
All the while shaking like leaves
In the harshest of autumn winds
I wonder if anyone can hear me
Or if I even hear myself
Can anyone see me?
Hidden in this cloak of clouds
I begin to feel comfortable
As my worldly self
Begins to drift away
Comfortable with no sun
To burn my skin red
Or to guide my way
I’m locked into a perpetual night
As the oppression of my clouds
Absorbs the light
Sun and moon and stars
And I’m left with nothing
But four walls
And a roof
And a little stool to sit on
I don’t notice any more random passerby
Just as they never noticed me
Just quote my old adages
Some god created just for me
“Stay in the clouds
A safe haven from the pain
I have no need
Of ever finding the way
“The world has spoken its ignorance
And has finally cast me away
I’m tired of endless clinging
And the guilt it brings my way
“If the life in this world
Revolves around an endless rhyme
The sun and moon and stars
I have better places to spend my time
“A room of nothing
No windows or air to breathe
Just a feeling of numb contentment
As my soul starts to bleed”
My conscious mind had made its final pitch
And it is off to the races
But I’m moving so slow
Once I was an alien
because of family ties
Once I was a sailor man
Told recruitment lies
Now I am a veteran
with socialized security
A part time postal carrier
With attitude and purity
I subsidize my poverty
By working for myself
In sickness and in health
I am earthbound as an autumn leaf
Blazing colors oh so brief
Twisting madly in the sun
Looking back at what's begun
listing badly misting sadly
hit a reef and come to grief
Closed up again
Just lost a friend
I am blind, I cannot see
The faces in the mask of nobility
The truth of life –the reality
Apathy and hatred’s frailty
I can’t feel the poison in the air
Of cruelty, greed and injustice
Causing anguish and despair
And political power’s edifice
I can’t hear the cry of souls
And desperation in autumn of life
Someone achieving selfish goals
And the horror of conflict and strife
Colours of butterflies and rainbows
Are meaningless to my curiosity
It’s darkness, spring comes or goes
I can’t see ruthlessness and barbarity
Rain drops from punctured sky
Tears down the face of gloom
Dews rolling the cheeks of bloom
I can neither appreciate nor decry
Am I flawed or lucky as blind?
I feel tranquility of no sort
I see viciousness of no kind
I recognize them not with senses alert
I do not know?
Can you smell it?
Oh Northern hemisphere,
Let down your hair my
fair lady,Spring is in
the air down here.
Your Winter is our Summer
Your Autumn is our Spring.
Seasons are celebrated more
so in the Eastern nations
Time for the birds, bees and
Time for Spring-cleaning and
Time for mates,dates and
great races with laces.
A deep forest tree romance.
Time for the Lover's chase
through fields of long grass.
Time to let old sorrows
pass and friends to do a dance.
Spring brings amazing things.
Best of all it brings a scent
in the air full of promise
of new things.
it's a time to let go for new
I do not know?
This is my last battlefield
I am tired of fighting a hopeless war
Filled with sleeping corpses and nonsensical peasant strides
Feverish Generals who keep shooting down with empty gun barrels
Soldiers who wanton march in the mists and bog of the long forgotten mansion
and inns of the tortured citizens that live without hope but no longer can be seen
I am the last Old Man of this ruin and wreck of a once prospered Nation gone Dead
The arms that I still wear are weary
these eyes which endow me to see does not wish to vision any further
Every step that my feet do walk is ready to fall for a long autumn sleep
Forget the rage that fills every blood in the veins who seek to destroy any sight
or fancy of the rich and privilage of the hierarchy that only seeks Wealth and Fame
NOT ME DEAR SIR AND MADAME..I AM TIRED OF PLAYING YOUR EVIL'S GAME!!!
Flowers blooming in the spring
birds that show us how to sing,
leaves that rustle in the breeze
colours in the autumn trees,
the sun that warms us from above
the moon that brings us thoughts of love,
all this beauty can be found
anywhere, just look around,
produced by nature with style and grace
to be abused by the human race.
I do not know?
Old Traveler steps out mighty proud
As we watch him paw and prance.
His rider, sitting poker straight,
Casts not a sideward glance.
In uniform immaculate
And saber at his side,
Old Bobby Lee looks every inch
Virginia's joy and pride.
We seasoned soldiers along the way
Send up our bravest cheers,
Although our hearts are sagging
And our eyes are dimmed with tears.
We followed him to hell and gone,
Through battles, lose and win.
And even now, without a word,
We'd follow him again.
For four long years we bled and died,
And cursed, and killed, and burned,
But now we've reached the bitter end,
Our rifles, shocked like autumn corn,
Await the boys in blue.
We sons of Dixie gave our all;
There's nothing left to do.
Now Lee, he rides to meet with Grant,
On this black, April day;
To offer up his shining sword
And sign the South away.