She sings in soft tones,
her magic exists beyond the obvious.
Listen closely to her wanting,
She is wrapped in a trancendent light.
chasing white rabbits.
Grasping for the infinite,
with delicate hands.
Dances within her luminosity.
Flying on yesterday's wings,
carrying smiles that are meant for tommorow.
Witness her as she waits to exhale.
A daisy chain,
tied around her wrist.
A future promise to be kept.
For within her spirit,
exists a burning passion!
She awaits one who is worthy,
of her consuming flame
Although she is unaware,
hers is a temporary sadness.
Happiness flirts at the edge of her dreaming,
waiting for an open window.
His shadow hidden behind frosted glass.
Shades of green,
turn brilliant yellow!
Buttercups dance around her feet.
Her laughter floats across the meadow.
Happiness runs to her open arms.
Together they skip, to her apple tree.
For hers is a faith that trancends the temple.
Her spirit sought and found salvation.
He had been with her all along,
I can see it in her smile.
The rain has passed and sunshine resides in her eyes!
For Catie Lindsey's contest.
I hope she sees beyond her shadows to her field of buttercups.
Happy April Fool's Day, We should definitely celebrate this day because it's all about fools, and thats is what I am- since I am fool- hopelessly, madlessly, desperately, pathetically in love with you all your pens, so cheers to all the fools of the world because I am the biggest one of them all.
Fools' Day Footle:
*That is Me*
There was a fool who was funny,
Who laughed and called you honey,
She smirk as she stole your money,
and didn't give up until she was doney
April first is a fantastic day for foolery,
So commence all these teasing and meet me at the brewery
Why is May an angry month? Because April came first.
Happy April first.
Can you hear me now? Good!
I can't seem to forget you
I love what you do for me
It must be love
between love and madness lies obsession
Like always. Like never before
At the sign of the cat
have a break, have a Kit-Kat
Tastes so good cats ask for it by name
Schhhh ... You-know-who
I'd rather die of thirst than drink from the cup of mediocrity
Perfect to you
There's a smile in every Bar
Obey your thirst
This Bud's for you
One a day helps you work, rest, and play
More fun than rum
Heineken open your world
... nobody can say no to the honey nut O
a bowl a day keeps the bullies away
Our plans are based on yours
You have my word on it
Be the first to know
Who we are
The "no problem" people
Only smarties have the answer
Making it all make sense
Because that's the kind of mom you are
Sometimes you've got to break the rules
Blow your own bubble
Catch our smile?
Everything we do is driven by you
Driven by what's inside
We'll take more care of you
You asked for it. You got it
We know what it means to serve
On your side
Allied on your side
You're in good hands
We make it happen
We'll be there
Get the feeling
Im lovin' it
You are the controller
Only on Playstation
You are now free to move
Unleash the beast
Is it in you?
Do you dare?
About this poem:
To "write" this poem, I used slogans, short and often memorable phrases
used in advertising campaigns. Below you can find the name of the product
(or the company) in order of appearance.
-Verizon Wireless; Wind Song; Toyota; Honda; Calvin Klein; Saturn
-Mercury; Kit Kat; Meow Mix; Schweppes
-Stella Artois; Wella; Dell; Hershey's; Sprite; Budweiser; Mars; Malibu;
Captain Morgan; Heineken; Rice Krispies; Cheerios; Applejacks Cereal
-Assurant; Isuzu; CNN; Guardian Life Ins; Auto-owners Ins;
-Captain Morgan; Rice Krispies; Buger King; Bubble Yum; Red Hills Inn;
Pacific Southwest Airlines; Ford; Subaru; British Airways; Toyota; USSA;
Nationwide Mutual Ins; Allied Ins
-Allstate; IBM; Chevrolet; Toyota; Mc Donalds; Microsoft Kinect; PS3;
Southwest Airlines; Monster Energy; Gatorade; Curious.
For more details, please see my Blog dated 7th April 11
'In India, a new Revolution is in the offing'
A New Hope shown by Anna Hazare in India
A new torch is there in your hands, dear Anna Hazare*,
A torch by which you are waking up the souls
Of millions and millions of our sleeping citizens.
To wake up and to remove the curses created by many of our
Corrupt bureaucrats and down to earth polluted politicians,
Such people inspire only directly or indirectly in my country
Violence, crime, corruption, and greedy coalitions.
No words are sufficient to thank you, O soldier of Gandhi,
As by non-violence, only Gandhi wanted to change the society.
God has given you an opportunity to do something,
O bold soldier
Several hundred thousands are standing with you and
Millions would join your campaign for removing the curse of corruption,
Effecting our country and many countries of the world,
All these are the result of ever-increasing greed and misdeeds of many such bureaucrats and politicians,
Such people are ruining many countries of the world by their
Ever increasing lustful temptations for money and greed for power and pelf.
In an era when the world is facing its new Renaissance of knowledge and awakening,
We salute your guts and efforts to bring a wind of change in my country.
Just keep walking with the torch of courage and hopes you have lighted,
As millions and millions more are waiting to join your efforts or
Waiting to start a campaign like this in every country,
As all the nations of the world are facing the tortures created by unworthy bureaucrats
Keep the torch high to light up the nation with a new light,
Our dear soldier Anna Hazare.
Kanpur India 08th April 2011
Anna Hazare* . Anna Hazare is a 73 years old man and one of India's
well-acclaimed social activists. A former soldier in the Indian army,
Anna is well known and respected for upgrading the ecology and
economy of the village of Ralegan Siddhi which is located in the
drought prone Ahmednagar district of Maharashtra state
Love is a wonder
shared by one another
it's the only reason
I'm not six feet under
Love in which I believe
in a will to sustain
I give back to life, now
in dormant states of pain
The power of Love
may not alone be enough
locked inside my dreams
escape only from above
higher than any human being
has ever gone before
I must have evolved
rise above hate, great once more
My Father taught me wisdom
I am imprisoned no longer
now an beast not of burden
I am no lion, I am stronger
on my shoulder sits twin dragons
long awaiting the day
evil forces come forth to
take what Love is left, away
A Hero of Love light
are what the world needs
angels, not demons
exist where ever you believe
follow your heart's direction
and you shall achieve
objects of affection
rid of materialistic greed
My bright energy
has awakened to a fire
never consuming the source
as the flames just grow higher
that is the desire
of a product we call Love
Fear, the counterpart
what I was once made of
I am slowly learning
how to win when my peace
is harder to sharpen
so I have given my pen leave
the sword has its uses
I must say I believe
to vanquish the evil
in the minds too diseased
to serve any purpose
except their own selfish ones
tomorrow a new day
in the clarity of the sun
where we two are now one
and one done now does
bring about a great change
lit by the righteousness of Love.
And the storm calls to me in ways you'll never understand
A gentle call that urges my soul forth
The lighting guiding a path for my feet to walk
Between the stones and ash of all that once was
I stand in the echoing silence of the rain
It drops down upon my skin like the blessing waters of heaven
Soothing me, lifting the weight from my body
I feel at once as if I am home
Standing amid two dimensions
Caught between two skies - here and there
The night wraping around me in warmth
The gentle wind lifting me off my feet
Drops from the clouded moon washing away my body
and I am left just a soul, an essence
The storm calls me forth from beneath my roof
Beckoning me into its depth
I stand among the reeds in the basin
They dance and sway as if welcoming me
And I sway with them back
Caught up in the power that charges the air
That threatens to sweep me away
If the ground will just loosen its hold
The thunder rumbles a low welcoming growl
And I get pleasently lost within it
I am so small compared to its vastness
I close my eyes and succumb to the skies wishes
Rising higher until my feet no longer touch the ground
My fingertips touch the liquid color of the stars
A sigh drifts from my lips
There is no need of thought to stay afloat
There is no demand to breathe in air
No crushing weight upon my chest
As my lungs struggle to survive
There are no struggles here
I make my bed on blackened clouds
And give in to the call
The storm has claimed me as its own
It was such a struggle to stay upon the ground
When the storm would call me home
Diamond dawn softened cold clinical walls,
smoothing harsh lines, soothing the sleepless
with the lullaby of love. Blossom-pastel hues
sparkled with crystals of dew;
glimmering prisms of diamond-cut light,
in the month of showers and flowering bowers.
Red and yellow daisies studded dark soil
like gemstones tumbled beneath the flower of the sun.
Sweet peas twined a bright trellis of light;
clinging like a baby's fist, curling around sunbeams,
climbing a golden ladder of sunlight.
Crystalline morning softly stroked your face:
a sleeping jewel, gently polished
by the early light of a late April sunrise.
dedicated to my little 'sweet pea' Jake, born 28th April 2009
Sly quiet slim fur
Sneaking through the trees
The only one that likes water
You pull the strings of lover's guitar.
And blend the rythm with solemn desire.
We sung the song of endless hymn.
While whispering a promise in my ears.
Hand and hand we reach the edge,
of heavenly bliss that you and I shared.
I almost forgot the date on that day.
It was April when you fool me so well. :(
(Earth Day, 2014)
New life emerges;
fragile Earth survives another day...
We scan our universe for origins
(and endings), extending vision
ever farther, reaching for utmost limits...
So much to learn --
trial and error, trial and error
(preponderance of error)...
and new life emerges.
survives another day.
If these eyes shall become blinded, and if this
hair shall come to be combed thinly and grey;
No, it would not be the end of the world.
I would still see beauty therein this world through
the songs of Crickets and Feathered Songsters.
The breeze would yet whisper and trees still dance.
I would yet smell the freshly bloom of Spring.
I'd still endure Summer's sweltering heat.
I'd yet feel Autumn's leaves crunch 'neath these toes.
I'd still long to be fireside with Winter.
Disabled or not, perhaps I'd yet walk
therein wonderful imagination.
How I'd be forever young at heart!
Then just as one journey came to an end,
I'd indeed greet another with a smile.
The pain I put in the ground.
For such a precious thing.
The family enjoys their meal.
They plant their leftover kernels.
And wait for me to tend to them.
An endless cycle in which happiness is born.
21 February 2013
A CONCLUSION -
It’s a Walt Disney,
Looney Tunes world
Why? Because I
cannot identify with
in my waking
mishmash is widely
Those of our younger
populace seem to
The movies, the
The world is, from
sea to sea, a
ritual of violence,
noise, hunger and
There has been no
period of world
peace such as
World War I
immature nonsense as
up of comic
Big as the latest
Some things, like
Archie, deserve to
die or, at
What happened to
absolute music, that
no words of
In these last few I
would explore the
balance, escape Bugs
PROPHETIC DREAM – JOURNAL IX
On the outskirts,
Framed on either side
By a farm house a barn
I discovered this winding path
It is early autumn
The trees about the house
Are full of lingering gold
Various harvest implements are seen
A silo rises in the foreground
With a tool shed beside
And the receding meadow beyond – cut
in two by the path – a luscious green
Far distant is a dense, black forest fronting
I am just past my 85th birthday
And the mysterious future, creeping ever
closer, much on my mind
The dream vision is so colorful so clear
That when I awake
I must just lie still and wonder
Having decided that she was no less then this, a deceiving
Wicked witch so I happily hurried along her belongings ¿
Exiting stage left throwing them all into the garbage bin
Except for her heart's favourite pink teddy while listening
Unto Bruce Springstein's anthem song, Born In The USA..
Quite aware of these metaphors scattered about a rent
Canvas his bluebird complaining to a solitary crow gazing
Peering into the green grass hidden; trying to make it's way
Imagining as her Statue of Liberty and thinking that Diane
Beholds their gray grim reapers, wearing righteous masks ?
Children weeping mothers bewildered a man with his sickle
Lifted high proclaiming these balancing scales holy castles...
Chasing the we understand given to us; serving your demons.
Dubieties engulf all around
As the brume in the dawn
Behold plants seeking strength
In this warm cuddling cloud
Songs soon sing from the sky
The common notes that play
When it’s about to drop wet
Upon human’s bower.
It’s wonted (by this time) to descry
Dark clouds being deserted
By its everyday residents.
In the mood of the inclement
It’s sparse to hear
Any row from the firmament
Other than the loyal sound
Of the saturated pattering
From the blue yonder.
Football’s in the
All the colleges
Students don colors
It seems like just
At the stadium
Alma maters by the
A vendor throwing
To customers in the
And here comes the
Pride of Smith
Dressed in red and
I was there with all
From trusted wheel
Still getting into
Excitement the same
I’m still singing
with the band
With oxygen close at
Here I rest upon the smooth rivers bank
Resting under the protection of white birch
Tasting the scent of spring on old Cape Ann
As if being reborn in the late April sunshine
Here thoughts and memoirs drift on the current
Washing away on coppery green wave crests
Watched by Snapdragon eyes gently drifting
Wafting in the sweetness of a juniper breeze
A brushed sedate glow of dusk mirroring light
Painting the currents of the Annisquam River
Lying in the peaceful and intrepid stillness
I wonder if I’ve found a moment of perfection
Softly baptized by the tepid evening drizzle
I see the silvery notes fall to break the surface
Playing the sweet libretto of rain and river
A rising crescendo of new life awakening
Here I find peace upon the placid rivers bank
Lost in memory amidst honeysuckle moments
It’s here that my spirit remains eternally young
Ever blossoming in the late April moonlight
Love is you
Beauty on the inside and the outside too
Love is overriding the mad
Getting over the sad
Yet let go og those who had
For some don't know what to do
But those who do, knows how to pursue
Motivating and captivatingsets up the stage of a positive sense of energy
Everyone seeks to be with you but still want to carry the negativity
Love is the fruits of goodness that we are responsible for everyday
However, it looks elegant and pure when you are placed on display
Put in action
And wouldn’t trade you for anything
Unconditional on the just and unjust seems insane sometimes but love reaps the greatness of blessings
Love you never die
Only memories of truth while rest where hearts lie
So love I’m glad to know you and you know my soul
For it is what makes me complete and whole
For you bring conviction when I’m wrong
Also a true friend that has been by my side for this long
Love is there when I go to bed at night
There in the morning dew embracing my face even in the darkest circumstance in sight
Light remains the same
Thru the love it brings
Therefore I’ll stay on this side of the fence
Love makes sense
When you know what love is
The itty-bitty spider knew
he had to web his site.
He was in the corner of breakfast nook.
I watched him all night.
He went up the line with such might.
The itty-bitty spider was magnified.
The web he created was in neon light.
For Andrea Dietrich Third & Final Itty Bitty Contest
April 11, 2014
I found a perch this morning
Capsized and defeated by the early spring
Washed into a silty little corner, waiting to become still
The miniature heart, it beat so fast, it tried very hard
Fiercely and with fire it tried, in its very unimportant way
It pulsed a few more times, in vain, then the blood began to cool
Beneath the filigree of grey scales, tarnished with muted gold
Painted over with strong looking black lines, like racing stripes
I stirred then, upon reflex, as it was clear that the life had ebbed away
Quiet within a hush, how small it became, I thought
Some lost minutes held me there in a brief reverie
Myself only a distortion in the glassy button eye
Then the moment was gone and I heard the waves again
My body towered above the scene once more, sun weary and sleepy
I gave a parting breath and turned without another glance
With only a few steps I had forgotten everything
Nothing-thoughts took up the space
I turned and headed back up the path that led me home
"I never travel without my diary, one should always have something sensational to
read . . .” Oscar Wilde, 1891
April 12, 2011
It happened again on April 12th
My crystal dove fell off the shelf
The shelf of knickknacks in my mind
Of people and places, left behind
This one was Adam and all we could be
Lovers, partners, the possibilities
The alternate dream, if you would
Of another us in a parallel world
Where I’m not married, nor is he
And dreams of together morph into being
I pick this dove up, this Adam fantasy
And place it on the shelf, out of my reach
*Won 8th place in "The Diary" contest
For all to hear and all to see
thunder and lighting glistening at me
marbles of water bounce off the roof
vanishing magically but there not to see
the animals hide from it's presence
hoping to be safe under protection
as the giant stomps it's feet
and Edison's light bulb flares
No one sees but clouds before
and clouds gather after
the only evidence of this terrible rage
lies under the ground, and atop the roof
Some catch it's content's
and some measure it's times
but no one is brave enough to go in
the only thing sound is the blanket atop me
keeping me warm and safe from the cold
once the rages over the world quiets
as if its waiting for the monster to come back
for the giant to stomp once again
and for Edison's lightbulb to go out
for all to become noisy
but alas it never does
Rain, rain we loved as kids,
But another round of this,
We prayed against in this town.
Why? Our reasons ‘re obvious.
The previous downpour catered away our belongings,
Seven of our people were flooded away
To where only God can tell,
And nineteen was flooded out of their abode.
Preceding rain was tough.
I (myself) can’t tell the quantity I drained away from my room.
Where is government to come hitherto to our aides?
May be tomorrow, I can’t say.
*Downpour: Heavy rainfall, Heavy shower...
As she lay on her knees
surounded by the these brown clored leaves
she gazed up high
it was like she
was floating above
but a cold breeze
sievers down her spine
shaking it off
she picks up
a dandi lion
she made her wish and threw it
sending it flyinging in the wind
the birds whistling
she starts to sing
its not autum anymore
no more autum leaves
just a warm summer breeze
Summer came crashing down like a thunderhead
Hordes of children released from their brick prisons
My young eyes watched out the passenger window
Our yard, brown spots and all, I loved it
The way we ran, the sprinkler cackling in the background
Voices hoarse from delighted screams, evening bubbles by
Blades of grass stick to my heel, and I dream of junipers
They line the front of our house, protecting it from monsters
I want to take that particular green and paint my life with it
Over again, just once more, standing next to the street
Rubbing the needles between my fingers, sticky with life
The evergreen balm sparkles through my senses
Stirring up magic and stories about the high sea
Night time comes and my memory stands tall
The curtains in my bedroom billow like sails
And outside, the castle wall still stands
My love for you
is like cool slow rain
from an April sky
with gentle droplets
whispering of love
as they kiss your face
My love for you
is like gentle sea breezes
on a hot summer's noon
bringing healing's touch
from some far away land
to soothe the weary soul
My love for you
is like the dawning sun
chasing away the darkness
with golden sunbeams
that radiate with hope
of a better day
My love for you
is like all these things and more
for even if the rain ceases to fall
and the breeze forgets to blow
and the sun shines no more
my love for you will always be there
~ Where should I start this poetic trace? ~
Supple summer, season scene
Takes off coats and welcome warmth
And tranquil under soften sky.
Spring 'O' Spring precedence over summer...
Summer host long light evenings,
Carol patterns and seldom pit-a-pat.
Fertile season, holder of juicy jubilee
Easter burners' night, palm Sunday pedestrian...
And good Friday chorus.
March-to-October, love you so much.
~ Hope I am not missing out? ~
Dedicated to the lover of the above poetic summer season.
our father, who art in heaven
hallowed be thy name thy kingdom come
a muttering chorus amidst the silence
as a firefly lands on my fingers
sending tribute to either god
or the soul that the unbelieving congregation mourns for
a constant mummer of your name in untouched hearts
a procession of empty prayers for the ashes
scattered in an urn of porcelain encased in
a shroud of guilt and confusion and shock
on this 3rd day of the 4th month
may the world weep for the
man they never knew.
the fireflies are burning in the air (are you there?)
breathing graves three feet under where my feet stand
where his no longer are
and no longer will
but oh— will you please come back?
come, may the light of these fireflies linger upon the
tears that fall from the empty. may
thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven
may hopeless hope lift the ungrounded spirits of this
congregation of faithful cynics with steeled hearts and bolted minds.
and in this time and space of desperation—
give us this day our daily bread
it is only in these moments
that the entire world believes just for a moment that maybe
just maybe god will be there
and in that moment— that god must be there
the last slivers of thread as the fingers let go
forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us
but in our hearts a symphony of loathe and
hatred for everyone and everything
where blame is a burning firefly that refuses rest.
the light on my fingers is a faint flicker
lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil
that reigns in our blood but flows into grief
a multitude of concentrated desolation where
the firefly graves are in the hands of our people
for thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory
and the stills moving in an endless wave as we walk away
an overwhelming voice of many voices
whispering the lords prayer
as we all did,
as we all one day do
now and forever—
– – –
i watch you fade away into the darkness
shining eyes; lighted fingers
waving goodbye, ill be okay
retreating into the mist of the morning,
leaving me as wordless
as the god i once believed in
– – –
since youve gone away
ive started loving the world so much
all i ever want is to leave it
– – –
and so i whisper my final prayer, oh god–
if youre up there,
we're two stories, picture books rubbed raw and torn pages, he's
up the middle, down the lines of his face on the left and his right ear
over my toes when midnight falls, I watch him, inconspicuous, listen to my sleep.
I'm breathing, I'm attacked by May and I used to know lavender beneath the fog, I used to
know dawn, I blanketed myself with scratches and wrote love letters to April when I missed
but now I write letters to him, hoping, somewhere, my handwriting can tattoo his skin.
sometimes, I think it's love, that's what he's termed this undiluted destruction of me and
it's a shame I didn't stain him, it's a shame my blood doesn't laugh at him from his
palms, it's a
I don't crawl over him like fleas at midnight, biting, itching and tearing him to shreds...
it's a shame I still make him smile.
I know the shape of Tuesday evening, she turns sideways beneath the moon, and my thighs
become blue with memories and reflections but I leave the window open to confuse tomorrow
I crack the glass and pray I don't bleed, I...
slice through sunlight, I'm
and he's sleeping, his eyes are always closed....
and I whisper to Wednesday to steal his eyelashes, I cry to April to blow them to me and I
promised, I promised Thursday I'd make these wishes....
but I don't know
how to collect.
He's ineffectual as long as I'm cold, he's problematic and I sweat, swatting at headlights
and curling under blankets, I'm trying to fool myself but
my eyes don't close...
and I've spit on last January, indignant in her youth, she'll never hear the screaming
pain of forgiveness...
and my mouth
close, my teeth won't crash and creek and grind him down...
not this close to May, anyway, not this close to