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Balveen Cheema Poem
I stood on the cliff and asked the wafting clouds exultantly,
"You greet me every morn, you watch me through
My windows and peer through the chinks,
You have been a mystical part of me through
My childhood when I skipped and jumped with friends
And through my confusion and confidence in adulthood.
What does the future behold for a dreamy me?"
The sky seemed bluer in the cloudscape and I heard echoes
" In the labyrinth of choices your future is sown in........your future is sown in
Your cherished dream was an unbelievable reality................believable reality
A kaleidoscopic ride after the nature you've churned out for self..........for self
An investment in optimism has enveloped you in calmaria..............in calmaria
Enjoy the fruit which is multiplying with interests......................with interests".
May14, 2015
For Skat A
Any Poem You Are Proud of # 3
(May 10, 2016
For Nayda Ivette Negron)
*Calmaria (Spanish)- after a storm comes calm
Poem is in a dialogue form; the second verse is an end line word poem.
Copyright © Balveen Cheema | Year Posted 2016
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Balveen Cheema Poem
my family roots
flange to three generations
stand on a tripod
the grace of values
fondued by humble elders
half here and half there
the hopping second
have tales full of humour
vanishing the blues
the out cradled babes
tow blood line of bold and old
exposing its veins
May 6, 2016
Haiku on My Family
For Marvin Celestial
Copyright © Balveen Cheema | Year Posted 2016
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Balveen Cheema Poem
Cosmic Peace
I have been wondering
Ever since you left us,
What were your thoughts
That early morn?
You were silent
While you lay quietly on bed.
For the past few months
You had learned to
Resign to your fate.
Your wounds were healing
Yet tired was your spirit
As you gave in to dependency
On others for your basic needs.
Much did you despise
Calling out to mother and child
To give you a helping hand
For necessities that you wished
To do yourself.
Shame and embarrassment
Was slowly overtaken by
I Have No Choice!
That morn you were to walk
Once again.
Mother and child freshened you
And you sipped your tea
Without a sound, without a word.
You were a little tired
As you lay back to rest,
Never to wake up again.
What thoughts crossed
Your mind that day?
We thought you were looking forward
To your first footsteps that day.
Or did you think
My first footsteps were with my mother
The second time would be crazily challenging?
Or is it that granny said
Don't fret, don't exhaust,
I'll take you now on a heavenly journey?
Did you see the divine light
That forewarned you
Your hour has come?
Did god whisper a sweet welcome to you?
Were you happy or sad to leave mother and child?
Dad, did I come for once in your thoughts
Or did I remain in the periphery
With the earthly transactions
As you transcended into the cosmic peace?
I remain burdened with the bond of love.
I miss your warmth
As you enveloped me saying
The doors of my house are always open.
THIRD
November 25,, 2015
Conest: A Poem Time Forgot
Sponsor: Silent One
Copyright © Balveen Cheema | Year Posted 2015
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Balveen Cheema Poem
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My Quaint Cottage
The quaintness of my cottage
Is idyllic in my sweet resting thoughts.
My miniature garden rarely noticed by one
Is garlanded with fenced shrubs and flowery visions.
My orange clustered tree
Showers } { its love
onto my } { cascade
of verses } { as I rest
against } { its sturdy
bark on } {a silent day
My green walled cottage is sewn intricately with ivy
Leaving an
Arched door
Open Fringed
With fresh roses
Attracting the
Honey suckles
Hanging in air
Fluttering
Their wings
For ## but # one ## sip
In ## my ##### garden
Of # b# l #o # o # m # s
FIRST
Balveen Cheema
October 24, 2015
Judged
Contest: Creative Layouts
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Copyright © Balveen Cheema | Year Posted 2015
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Balveen Cheema Poem
Looking back at the Earth, I can't really describe how beautiful it is from 300 miles up. Looking down, you can tell it's a planet. The sky is black. There's just a thin blue ribbon, what we see as blue sky on Earth. You realize how small it is and how fragile the planet is...............by Astronaut Mike Good:
a thin blue crescent
of earth from the moon looks like
a jewelled head band
crowning a young queen
on a dark night when her love
slides a sapphire hoop
silver stars sparkle
above this clear azure line
making love life snug
May 13, 2016
For Rita A. Simmonds
Copyright © Balveen Cheema | Year Posted 2016
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Balveen Cheema Poem
I wonder if God hates cowards, for
My sins mushroom near Satan's apple
I live and die in my own filth
No human or angel treads
Near my Mandragora hub
Its narcotism excites my senses
Uncotrollable erotic desires
Grip me in its poisonous beauty
I surfeit in my inhumane pleasures
No saviour can save me
From my aphrodisiac pleasures
The spell I cast on all trespassers
To join me in my hell
Whether now or later, I'll trap you
Whether now or later, I'll trap you
April 21, 2016
For Rob Carmack
Inspired by Tom Hawks' song, 'God Hates Cowards'
Mandrakes/ Satan's apple are the fruit of the Mandragora . The plant is known as an aphrodisiac.
Copyright © Balveen Cheema | Year Posted 2016
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Balveen Cheema Poem
seven sisters peck the round red guavas into hanging crescent shades
January 10, 2016
Contest: Monoku # 1
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
Copyright © Balveen Cheema | Year Posted 2016
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Balveen Cheema Poem
(Walking Seven Steps)
Catching the last shot of the sunset sky
Even more rustier than before
Delayed my departure.
I asked my friends to go ahead
And I would catch up with them, but
The perfect shot took longer than I thought.
Packing my bags I hurried downhill knowing
I was lagging far behind the others.
The thickness of the night engulfed me
And I knew I had lost my trail.
Stumbling over a stone I had also
Lost my torch, and started walking blindly
In the darkness of the woods.
The pitch black trees seemed statued
To the ones that breathed life
When I had often trampled
Through the varied wooded parks.
The autumn leaves were crackling
Under my light footsteps as
The tiniest crescent moon smiled
Through the bare leaved branches
Welcoming my partnership on our lone journey.
How long I walked, my feet knew not
How long I would walk, my heart knew not
My map was dark and my eyes could read it not.
But my ears were sharp to hear another crackling
Under footsteps many times heavier than mine.
From the dark slope above I saw a shadow enlarged
Hurrying down to my path as if to lead me out.
My breath was calm, my eyes happy, and quietly
My adventurous spirit followed him wherever he lead.
The woods became denser and our pace quicker
With a click of his finger the air became fresher.
So intoxicated was I with the heavenly air that
It perfumed my soul, my very breath and
Every transient thought that fleeted in,
Till I stood before a very flowery welcoming cottage.
I extended my hand to my shrouded partner and said:
'It takes seven steps together to make a friend.
We have walked more than seven steps together to......'.
My hooded companion most divinely intervened:
'It takes seven steps together to make a friend
It takes seven hours together
To make any journey most heavenly'.
Without raising his chin,without accepting my extended hand
He turned his back to retreat into the woods
As mysteriously as he had entered it.
Copyright © Balveen Cheema | Year Posted 2015
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Balveen Cheema Poem
Loving Grandparents
I've seen more faces of parental love
As a child I heard folk lore from grandma
Often I lay calm in her elbow's cove
Night pressed her feet swollen with oedema
And in the noon we would hide in a room
With a binoculars to watch the birds
Collecting twigs for nesting babes in womb
Grandma was fun and all requests were heard
Grandpa moved around with his wailking stick
We took care of him on his pious bed
Didn't know he was dying thought him sick
In the middle of night goodbye he said
We hugged and cried at our world that collapsed.
New homes we were flown to, our ties just snapped
FOURTH
October 29, 2015
Contest: In The Name Of Love
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Copyright © Balveen Cheema | Year Posted 2015
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Balveen Cheema Poem
My Monster
Every week on Good Friday I get restless
Palpitations rise for my week end disasters
A monster boldly barges into my silent abode
Depriving me of my peaceful slumber
Crash! Now which crockery has ended its life?
The moment I reach the dreaded site
Littered remnants of mugs and glasses
Sprayed on the kitchen floor
Having an afternoon nap is a crime indeed
The dining tablecloths are scrooped down
And I curse my heavy eyelids for drugging me
I wake up to run and my shoes are not there
The good Lord save me! My kitchen cabins
Are invaded, explored and ransacked
The bright packages are crushed and ripped
Salty and sweety snacks carpet the freshly scrubbed floor
I pads, mobile phones, remote controls vanish
I magically recover my drowning hopes
When their batteries are over
My heart beats louder than the speakers
Strumming the beats of nursery rhymes
Till tiny flakes start peeling off the quaky roof
The iridescent walls showcase
The world's finest art repertoire
Nothing short of an international gallery of art
The monster is finally trapped on the garden swing
Smiling gleefully with an outstretched arm
All frowns erase when the two year old
Bob cut tomboy dramatically wails
Granny! Granny! Granny! Granny!
Contest: My Monster
Sponsor: Anthony Slausen
Copyright © Balveen Cheema | Year Posted 2015
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