Best 37 Poems
Dew wet spider web
Sparkling pearls on fine parade
Life's boasting beauty
23.10.2014
Anne-Lise Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
tiger prowls
on the desert sand
buzzards gather
2/9/14
Cockney flower girl
snobbish phonetics tutor
opposites attract
wide and warm, where I lay
sleeping beneath
blue blanket nebula
Surprise and pleasure
your secret garden
Red tulips
Out past fading smoke
the smell of saddle-leather
lone horse by campfire
- - -
by the campfire
cowboys share haunted tales
leaves rustle in moon's shadow
- - -
the tapping of boots
on creaking woodfloor
line-dancing
- - -
coffee beans'scent
from the musty log cabin
Cowboys 'return
My first attempt re cowboys haiku
I am older now, my
body creaks, but it
remembers.
As if it happened
yesterday,
Walking through Camp
37, east of Dresden
Germany
Dark, sorrowful
overcast skies
Hang like a wash of
black ink
Rusted razor wire,
empty guard towers.
Sentinels to times
past, a reminder
Snow crunches like
ginger crackers
under my feet.
Forty cabins, dark
weathered wood
Allied containers
Sweet pine scents
the cold air
My old bunk is bare
Etched messages in
wood, still there.
Hidden stashes,
cigarettes
Freedom in dreams,
shattered when you
awake
Silence,
But my thoughts are
partying,
Tea time was the
best, no cream
Tattered Red Cross
packages, tastes of
home
Hopes for tomorrow
Final freedom.
At Armageddon's end,
Captors become
captives
Deliverance to
tomorrow,
I remember it well.
Lone surfer rides waves
Steers through a rainbow sunrise
Crashed - forgot sun shades.
Azure blue dazzling
Divided waters surging
A whale of a day.
Patradoot or The Messenger 37 /Many
English version by Ravindra K Kapoor
Originally written in Hindi by my
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor
You will find my beloved, dear letter,
Faded like the clouds full of water,
Like after the night enjoyment dear,
The woman appears in the morning.
You will find her face pale, dear letter,
And her steps would be heavy and slow,
When you will notice these signs in her,
She is in pregnancy, you will come to know.
The gloom and paleness, on her face would have come,
Because of her separation from me, in her pregnancy,
Leaving her ornaments aside, dear letter,
You would find only love and modesty in her.
While beholding her beautiful lotus stem like hands,
They would look without the glow of shine, due to gloom,
When that lovely woman would appear before you,
To greet and welcome you, dear letter.
My beloved has not received any news about me,
Since a long time, dear letter,
While looking at her face You would watch, This
Has weathered the natural glow of her beauty.
Ravindra
Kanpur India 7th Sept 2010 continues in 38.
Based on the true freedom struggle story of Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor
Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections
Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
Has any question or queries, they can
Send me an email on kapoor_skk@yahoo.com
Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my late father
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor around 1932, who was a freedom fighter.
He wrote Patradoot in Hindi, when he was kept in Faizabad Jail for quite
a long time. The Epic was written as a gift for my mother and it was
sent to her secretly from Faizabad Jail. He was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. He was imprisoned
many times during 1920 to 1947. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas,
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990.
He left this mortal world in 1994.
Johnny Thunders… Room 37.
John Anthony Genzale JR, a man that did the drugs and booze,
Not only born to live but ultimately born to lose.
Born in fifty two he loved the game of baseball,
But would never cut his hair that was his little league downfall….
That and his bad dad, but Johnny Volume would soon rule..
Along with the Jaywalkers at Quintano High School.
Then in sixty eight he would go to Fillmore East,
At a bar called "Nobody"'"s"on Bleeker Street
He would learn to drink his Bourbon ice so neat.
Then he was a sales clerk at the Da Nazz Leather Shop,
He would meet some future Dolls, then they were the "Actress"'"s."
But it was just a whistle stop..
Renamed Johnny Thunders after a comic book of the same name,
The New York Dolls were formed
His life would never be the same…
Two critically acclaimed Albums
"The New York Dolls" "Too much too soon"
But both commercially void,
Not enough to buy a Coke spoon..
In seventy five the Dolls broke up
Those trash glams all with attitude ,
Even bands today look back
With nothing but hard rock gratitude.
Johnny then formed The Heartbreakers ,released one brilliant LP
Los Angeles Mother F@kers
Know as L.A.M.F.
What an album I do decree…
Though I still love "So Alone"
A solo of such class..
He drifted here and there,
Then it was alas…
He lasted till nineteen ninety one,
His heroin a complete addiction..
But his death it was a mystery
There should have been a murder conviction!
Many rumours surround his death, I do suspect foul play.
St Peters House Hotel, New Orleans, such a great cliché.
Gangster dealers gave him LSD
Ripped off his Methadone supply..
Pretty sure they killed him,
Such a sad goodbye.
His room number was thirty seven,
It was ransacked of all his possessions,
What is known for certain,
Is there has never been no confessions..
"You can"t put your arms around a memory,
Don"t try don"t try..
You"'re just a bastard kid
And you got no name
Cause you"re living with me
We"re one and the same."
Nice one Johnny..
Sadly missed.
Form:
Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent – 36
All day long we kill to keep the home clean
Insecticides aerosols rat poison
The killer instinct makes us bold and mean
Down by the pond mosquitoes wake and preen
Time to send fighter jets by the dozen
All day long we kill to keep the house clean
Peeled apples for veg flies succulent wean
We spend week-ends choking every last one
The killer instinct makes us bold and mean
Kids we love but not the kind who boil spleen
So we sock the wife more than hard in the bun
All day long we kill to keep the home clean
At Antipodes some guys flex muscles lean
Call that homefront affront to smite them down
The killer instinct makes us bold and mean
What counts home comfort by all overseen
Secure society to foist nation
All day long we kill to keep the house clean
The killer instinct makes us bold and mean
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
count creation's stars
subtract Spring sky's accounting
still infinity
Brian Johnston
April 10, 2016
After a converstaion with Sunday Igwebulke on FaceBook
37.
Play the everyday tune
And laugh at the need to swoon,
Over habits and needs
And all the worry it feeds.
Record the everyday woe
And question where should I go,
To the easy comfortable place
Or to the mysterious hard to trace.
Sing the everyday song
And seize the moment, make it long,
Amongst the short course of the day
The present has a melody to play.
Each day that I get up and greet the new dawn
Posing at the mirror,first..to see what changes have been going on
My eyes cannot look at what lies before me
55'waist on a 5ft 7 frame
These hands reach into the old treasure chest in the closet
I open it up and there before me is
A Superman comic(circa 1986-A CRISIS ON INFINITE EARTH crossover)
12 vhs tapes of STAR TREK,the original series(courtesy of Paramount Pictures)
An E.T.The ExtraTerrestial costume that mom made for me
and of course,the most treasured possession of all:
A FRUIT-OF-THE-LOOM jockey short that I wore throughout Freshman and
Sophomore year in High School
The DIRTY jokes that my Classmen used to tell
Old and disgusting chewing gum sticking to the toilet bowl with this note:
BERNIE&CHRISTINE,SITTING UP ON THAT TREE..K.I.S.S.I.N.G.
I hold up that smelly jockey garment from long ago to my expanding waist
Now I do know WHEN and WHERE the years did go
too much partying with the cubicle nerds
PAPA GINO'S and A&W root beer just lying around for some aging X'er to take
a bite and a gulp
Every night before I trot off to sleep,the hemorrhoids keep acting up
disturbing the many custard pie remnants that exhale from the behind
Mother told me that too much of that would be Dangerous,sickening,and unkind
I can't help it if I do not want to let go of my young appetite,as yet
Creatures from the old yearbook,Ravishingly young and wile
It brings forth a pleasant memory and before I am off to dreamland
This face offers up,one more juvenile smile,from yesteryear
GOOD NIGHT
On the morning of Dec. 7th 1941,
429 Marines and Sailors lost their lives.
As a result of a surprise attack on battleship row,
The brave souls perished to an awful demise.
She was a part of the Pacific Fleet when 9 Japanese,
Type 91 aerial torpedoes pummeled her that day.
And then her port bilge struck the harbor bottom,
Commencing to overturn, she began to rest in the bay.
She was the oldest of all the battleships there,
And the first to go down and capsize.
The battleship’s crew went down with their ship,
As horrid black smoke filled the Pearl Harbor skies.
The USS Oklahoma was moored at Pearl Harbor,
And a memorial was built at Ford Island in 07.
The Servicemen gave their tomorrows for our today’s,
And Pearl Harbor is the tomb of USS Oklahoma BB-37.