Anklets Poems | Examples

silver anklets

"When nature exceeds culture, we have the rustic. 
When culture exceeds nature, we have the pedant."
-Quote by Confucius
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feminine luxury
                     favored
high-pitched
tinkling at feet
                     resounding joy


connecting
Earthstar chakra

                       grounding
gushing lunar energy
                      
                       honored divinity


now a simple charm,
                       a Bling, sparkling
                       stylish accessories,

      insignificant

                       unsophisticated

Tower Of Magic

   when elixir of moon drips wine
into the crystal goblet of magic
   this  late night beguiles my skin, reeling
            on a Friday parade of lights;
    my hips oh so beckon, swaggering to and fro...


         impossible to deny this playgroud of fancy
    of a soul flitting in.  and  out of supple thoughts
            when my imagination dangles 
        on anklets of stars
      as naked rhythm grows, my free will abides
    to sip the juice of this wondrous ambrosia...

  and goddess  Isis wheels into the forest
         with neon banners,
      spinning dream--like fables in my heart
    tingling flesh against trickles of time,

 where seahorses ride on carousels
    where ' a crimson sky breaks the distant shore'
       and vivid  thoughts spill like silver rain:

  in a tower  of daydreams or night walks,
        visions  are spun  without question.

My Beautiful Lady

Snow is fair and so my lady,
Roses are red and so my lady's cheeks, red, red, red.
Eyes like the deep ocean,
Lips like the fresh strawberries,
Feet soft like the tender coconut,
Her long hair moves like the waves of the sea,
The sound of her anklets feels like a soothing melody,
Anger like the sun's heat,
No words, no poetry, to describe my beautiful lady,
What can I say, my fair lady?

Medini R. Nayak

Ashta-nayika -1, Virahotkanthita, Suffering separation

One among the eight heroine types keen (utkanthita) 
to end separation (viraha) from her beloved
____________________

My eyes long for one glimpse of thy visage
That eludes me like a mirage,
My arms ache imagining thy embrace
When will I see thou face to face?
All I desire, thy touch bereft for long,
O come, enliven the lonely notes of my song,
Come, let me remedy the cause
Of thy leaving me, what so hurting was, 
Let not go waste this sandal paste on my forehead,
Let not these fresh flowers fade,
Nor kohl in eyes with my tears spread,
This golden belt on waist,
These silver anklets, all my ornaments,
And womanhood of my garments,
Join me to plead: O let no more time waste.
____________________
Natya Shastra | 01.02.2025 |  
Note: This is first of Ashta-Nayikas, eight heroine types, as classified in a Sanskrit treatise on performing arts in Bharata’s Natya-Shastra. The state (avastha) of the eight romantic heroines widely themed in Indian paintings, literature, sculpture, classical dance forms and music. Virahotkanthita, suffering separation, is the first of the eight such heroines depicted here in poetic form.

14-4-2024

My family spoke two languages
I’m not the same
Results came in still thankless
Feels weird to be diagnosed anxious
Results so plain
I’m still hiding under several blankets
I ain’t sleeping
Then several days went
The same waste stays
Can’t clean when I’m chained by the anklets
Godsent prayers came in graceless
Repetitious technique chased off my basis
I’m jealous of the mares who run the Mesas
Too free to worry if we’re Serbian or Croatians

Expelled air 
Pollution of the body left me breathless 
I’m no better 
Than shoot us in the feet 
Allusion of me to embarrass the lesser 
That’s no lesson

Bholu- the fun poem

Seems like he is Bholu from my village,
He used to come every morning to fetch Neera(Palm Toddy) from the Taad(palm) tree,
He would tie ends of his anklets with a little rope.
and we would watch him go up the peak, wield his hatchet to get the extract from the inflorescence of the tree.

Down below, all the adults were ready with their pots,
Its the nature's bounty and morning's first kick with a few pennies to Bholu as tip,
Everyone bragged about the health benefits of Neera,
We little boys had no luck, we just watched Bholu's tree climbing skill.

Looks like Bholu has aged little bit and has grown wise and smart,
Now he carries his laptop along with his hatchet when he goes up the tree,
For years he was exploited, and he remained penny less,
Now he can make some money by looking up the Neera index on Bombay commodity stock exchange.

Now he goes half way up the tree,
scans the price of Neera on the world wide web,
If the price is high, Neera is served outright,
If the price is low, he would rather wait and look at the exciting Bollywood babes.

In My Back Garden

that barn owl in the tree must know something,
quietly it looks, follows all night long,
looks from left, right, left.. like pendulum swing,
its ears pricked, is someone humming a song?

autumn leaves move about in the slow wind,
like wed pair in love frolicking a dance,
wind chime plays loud as the night rains rescind,
past me sails hint of jasmine, dare I glance?

wind keeps the tempo as thunder rolls on,
glass door is adorned in silver droplets, 
autumn roses strewn right across the lawn,
do I hear someone with dancing anklets?

Dark was the night and eery at its best,
eyes saw nothing but knew was not alone,
to wedding of spirits, have I been guest?
mystery for me, could the owl have known?

2nd placement
Written 20/10/2023
rhyme abab 10 syllables each line
Tanya Kitchin sponsored
Spooky Halloween Rhyme, Poetry Contest

Red Gems

Red Gems


A middle-aged man in an old wheelchair
moves slowly and with determination.

On a crowded street filled with happy tourists’ feet
his arms look as if
they’d finished an Olympic race.
Since he has no legs, he cradles his wares 
between lap and chest.

Today he sells tiny bracelets and anklets.

I pass him gingerly, bearing an awkward smile.
A half-block down, my conscience stops me.
I return to him
crouch down to meet him
pick out an anklet
hand him 40 pesos
his eyes glisten.

Why didn’t I ask his name?

Weeks later, this anklet still
adorns my smooth white skin.
I so love these plastic, shiny 
ruby-red gems
held together by tough black string.

I Wonder If You

I just wonder...

If you would have loved me
if you had not read the imperfect sonnet
that I wrote for you in a piece of paper
adorning it with petals of roses:
my first scribble of love to you 

If you would have heard the jingles
of the anklets of my mind
when she enacted with graceful moves
and expressed her yearnings for her beloved
in the performance of Bharatanatyam:
if I hadn't scribbled them to you
my longings...in words

If you could read the lyrics
of a special song hidden in my heart 
that I am yet to pen and tune to music
to sing it for you whenever I meet you:
if I do not likely get a chance 
to compose and sing 
my verses of devotion for you

If you could figure out
the meaning of the empty lines
in-between
in the stanzas of a poem I phrased
in the diary of my mind's memoirs
if you happen to read them. 
And if you figure out,
will you try to fill those lines up... 
if my mourning muse 
never wishes to fill them
with her gloomy grey ink?

                                                       ...I just wonder

Feel Like Resounded Sankh

Feel like resounded Sankh

               Dr Ranjit Dutta

Putting my sorrows in a bag
Loitering around in a market
To find  customers perhaps 
To sell my pains of the bag.
Price is nominal.
If someone wants more
I may give it free  in this chance
To empty my bag.
In the market of illusion 
Great-agitation of people indeed!
No-one shows interest to buy.
Eye drops fall instantly,
The weight of bag increases gradually ,
Suddenly, a fire-fly comes by
With her twinkling light.
The rattling anklets and
 Resounded Sankh of distant
Embellished my condoling heart secretly
As if a  stone carpet of 
A Summer's brook hide nearby.

The One I Lost

To The One I Lost Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon

Placed 3rd
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Like a nymph from Arden,
She entered my life’s garden.			

Like lightning to me, she came; 
For me, she was an ideal dame.

As feminine as a jasmine flower,
She found in me a protective bower.

I traced sweet nectar in her talk,
And a dancing swan in her walk.

Her floating hair for me was a cascade,
Placing my face in it, like a child I played.

Listening to the sounds her anklets made,
In rapturous mood, my head I swayed.

Arm in arm, in all kinds of weather,
Like love birds, we moved together.

People’s evil eye badly cast on us;
Like wild fire, it led to a deadly fuss.

Against us, our own damn cultures,
Played in disguise the roles of vultures.

They rested not until we parted,
And to heaven our souls departed.

Song of the Breeze

Cool and calm is the evening breeze.
Travelling miles, she brings us ease.
On wings so fleet as a fairy she comes,
Through woods and trees she sweetly hums.

An impish visitor, the dancer of the sphere.
An awaited presence, everyone’s cheer.
Singing and dancing, hopping, and skipping,
With the bells on her anklets ringing and tinkling. 

Across the corn she merrily moves.
From where she alights, no one knows.
None can see her but sense her touch.
Shivering leaves fear her clutch.

She travels downhill winding the dale.
Swift and light, yet strong and hale
Fevered minds, with a touch, she heals.
Her nimble movements, everyone feels.

At times she is gloomy and not at ease. 
"The silent song of the sighing breeze,"
Makes me wonder what makes her downcast,
She seems to tell; life cannot be always a blast.

Over land and water, she plays her tricks. 
Like a flash of lightning she swiftly flips,
And furtively retreats to her far away nest,
To regain her cheer and roam after a little rest

No.1

Angika Abhinaya

she dances she glances 
beyond her shoulder
She peers,
looking back
Her beautiful smile 
She poses in the mirror 

lines 'cross her face ~
all daises he traced - 
     not in a while,
but anklets and eyes
         precise
as the very first days  
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first verse by rick parise

Coo-L the Pigeon

 coo-l the pigeon
adorned in gray bodysuit -
acing the anklets

Kirat : the Roaring Hearts

I learn to lead
"Kirat" I bleed
When adorned with anklets and bangles 
I resemble devi, the purest of all
I inherit the power to end the befall,
I learn to lead 
"Kirat" I bleed
Devi not only mirrors divinity & beauty
When adorned with armour and sword
I reflect the knight 
No horror of darkness I'm myself the light,
I learn to lead 
"Kirat" I bleed
The equation of excellence and failure
Has solely one thing to allure
Learning it is laborious to haul,
The task undertaken is surely to be achieved 
As I bleed "kirat"
I learn to lead

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