Best Alighted Poems
Sudden, as a bolt from the blue,
Came down a humming bird, tantalizing
Skimming down and darting up
As an ever revolving top
It reeled round and round
Before it alighted on a drooping flower;
That hung from a bending branch
In a corner of my front yard garden
It precariously clung on to it
Like a small pendent on a chain
A sight so cool, now so rare
That lighted up my dull spirits!
Once they showed themselves up
On almost every sunny day
Promptly after the monsoon rains
When the plants en mass in resplendent bloom
Oh! How I love this tiny bird
Not larger than a bumble bee
Dressed in a cloak of green and black
Flitting round on fluttering wings
It literally dances and pirouettes in the air
Before descending down closer to its target
Swirling, gliding n’ moving back and forth
As if unsure of what it should do
Finally with a terrific jerk and swiveling move
It hovers close to hanging blooms
Balancing itself sans any support
And draws out nectar with its long needle bill
When the zephyrs carry a sweet scent
It flits from flower to flower
And having enjoyed the ambrosial treat
It flies back, well satiated like a darting arrow
My eyes fail to capture its lightning move
As it goes whizzing through the lambent air
Quickly disappearing like a mote of soot
Losing itself in the vast expanse of the blue
Being less than an ounce of fat
So light, sleek and well streamlined
It travels faster than the speed of light.
In a fleeting dash, moving out of sight
Can any other bird rival it in agility?
Or vie with it in its simple grace?
How cute, this spirit of ‘disembodied joy’
This winged diminutive denizen of the sky!
,
A young girl
with brown hair
braided back
holds before
her a parasol
striped in two shades of blue
At her neck is
the lacy collar of
an elegant long-sleeved
Ivory colored blouse
Seen in profile
her face is turned
slightly
downward
as if she is
in quiet reflection
Behind her
is sky light blue
but directly
in front of her
is the expanse
of a large cloud
enveloping half the sky
Four white butterflies
seem to dance
behind her
One beige butterfly
and a small blue one
have alighted on her
bell-shaped beige skirt
swept outward
That skirt is an upside
down lily
floating above
ground,
for her entire
lower body
has become the flower
which has lifted
toward sky and cloud!
The maiden
hovers above
blue dandelion-like blooms.
I imagine her f l o a t i n g off
into her own
imagination,
for she is as light as
the fluff of the
strange blue dandelions
which I can imagine
blowing away
with puffs
of my breath
and
a wish
The amaryllis yawns in bed of white
The fall of day paints shadows on the rose
Each flower is a ward of solemn night
Their gentle sleep upon which none impose
Beyond the halls and down the drowsy stair
Into the hallowed stillness of the lake
Illuminating every pebble there
The moon believes that no one is awake
Yet bittern watches all with eyes of gold
Alighted new in absence of the light
And with his lusty call so clear and bold
He breaks the quietude and then takes flight
A ripple in the water seeks the shore
It meets the rocks and ripples there no more
I dreamt that you were there,
In a haze, I could see your familiar face
The sun providing a spotlight for our awe-drenched moment
As I drew near,
Your features became more and more clear
You were smiling from ear to ear,
Like an angel fragrant and bright,
My soul beamed like an on-switched light
And we were so close to bonding edges
So close to each other’s face
I was captive in your touch
And yet I felt fully free
I saw your alighted lips
Curved, smooth and pining
As if they had waited for the moment I would find them
And how they trembled with joy and longing
As they took their inevitable, suspenseful plunge
Two lips leaped and landed like panthers on the prowl,
Magnetic, crazed and ruthless
Made for this moment
I cannot fathom the strength I received,
Kissing those celestial lips…
He was drinking in all of my sorrows
In the sacred force of our impact
I felt his struggles he bore,
Ball and chain-
Though I did not feel burden or pain
I felt his purpose in his moist embrace
The cuddle of dew and rosebud,
The glow of this thumping heart
I felt him release the reigns of life’s blisters
For the conjoining of our truth
In the kiss of wholesome bliss,
He wrapped his arms around me,
Tremulous and tight
Caressing and knowing every spot needing light
Eternal moments passing in our sweet blend,
Tenderly, his voice,
With comfort and assurance,
Knighted by cream-lit clouds
His voice, a deep bell scooping water from a wishing well
Pertinently held my ear in trance:
“This is the part where we never let go…”
. . .
When I woke from the dream,
I realized we were embracing always,
Since the day of our union
My eyes became wise,
And I knew that I never let go of him
Not once, not ever...
An unusual pair, yes,
Like vines to a gargoyle
Though eternal too
For the gargoyle’s eyes never blink
For fear of missing the most
Her cold-stoned exterior senses the vine’s bold hold
Feeling and bearing his thorns forever…
Clad in the ornaments of each other
Warmed and invigorated by the sun
Let me tell you a story of my night journey;
After a hazardous trip from a far off state
With drooping spirits and waning energy
I alighted at the station to catch the night train
My heart besieged by memories of my home, left behind
Like a drop in the ocean
I quickly merged with the buzzing crowd
In the blinking light of platform lamps
I saw a huge crowd- the young and the old
With baggage heaped on baggage, patiently on wait
Time slouched on at snail’s pace….
At last hearing a long drawn whistle from far
I looked out and saw the train coming, snorting noisily
And halting with a screeching sound
The real ordeal begins as one lifts his suitcase
And pushes his way along with all strength,
Between bags and boxes and people,
And the porters running after you to carry the cargo
Finally I got into the train and occupied my seat among strangers
My mind plagued with fears of thieves and molesters
It was my first journey alone at night
I don’t know when I fell into a deep slumber
It was with the sound of * ‘chai…chai’ that I woke up
The inviting aroma of brewed tea entered my nostrils
At last I have reached my native soil!
I am heading home, every step and every inch
Drawing me closer and closer to my sweet haven
My heart began to pump quicker
I felt like a marooned mariner
Suddenly cast ashore by a rescue boat!
__________________________________
*‘Chai’is a local term in our language for tea !
April. 19. 2022
Form N- Narrative New Poetryy Contest
Sponsor- Constance La France
Topic- Journey
You and I are stardust
unseen specks
hurled from unknown supernovas
exploding in deep space
an eternity away, ago
carried away on galactic winds
cosmic dandelions
scattered through limitless night
a universe apart
random
yet converging
over millions, billions, of years
all the galaxies, stars, gods
along the way
somehow indifferent to our passage
or conspiring to let us move on
an endless drift
until
we were pulled by gravitation
onto a tiny young planet
a speck, like us, in space
one in untold trillions
atoms, particles, dust
now alighted
assembled
scrambled
reassembled
randomly
patiently
through eons
into
you
me
and a universe shrunk
to that one spot on this earth
where our paths crossed
a one-in-an-infinity chance
destiny over impossibility
Maurice the frog was q###r; of this he had no doubt and all the lady frogs just made him yawn.
He sat all day on his lily pad, flicking his tongue at passing flies, with never a thought of ever wanting to spawn.
At night the pond was redolent with the sound of humping frogs, the 'revitting' would turn a young frog mad.
But, alas, poor Maurice's only joy was a male frog's fashion catalogue, bequeathed to him by his late, lamented dad.
And so he spent his idle hours with nary a care or frown, plodding along his solitary road.
Until the day in early spring his life turned upside down, on discovering he was, in fact, a toad.
This news, to him was quite a shock from a passing dragonfly, which alighted on a nearby flower frond.
‘You want to cross the road’, it said, ‘there's loads of toads like you having toady fun in their own toady pond’.
And from under his wing he produced a book, ‘Toads Only’, it said on the cover, Maurice turned to its centre pages eyes agog.
And there in Technicolor for all the world to see was a lady toad, spread-eagled on a log.
He was well and truly smitten as on her picture he did gaze, her bulging eyes as black as Yorkshire coal.
He thought about eating the dragonfly but quickly went off this, who needs fly when you can have toad in the hole.
So Maurice set off straight away, though the going was quite tough, the first leg almost gave him a heart attack.
But on the crest of the rise he could see the road and the toady pond beyond and was greeted by a passing Natterjack.
The uphill struggle behind him now his back legs found new spring, the going was much easier on the flat.
He thought of all the lady toads and the tadpoles they would have, another hop, another leap then - SPLAT!
The moral of this sorry tale is simple, short and sweet; the fairer sex will only make you cry.
Be happy in your own back yard, forget the frog and toad and next time - eat the dragonfly!
Oh she soars above the twilight
spreads her wings towards the lantern,
instinct hones towards Blighty’s bight
mind confused thinking of Skipton.
Gone the lure of tropical nights
diamond scattered heaven above,
only the cliffs of dolomites
to where here is her true love.
Waiting in anticipation
trauma the drama yet the fight,
together participation
oh once alighted from this flight.
Silver wings bare your robust soul
bring her back safely just for me,
here to play out fate’s active role
at the gate of our minds I'll be!
© Harry J Horsman 2013
I died once
Twice,
And then a couple of times after that,
Each time I saw you with another,
A part of me lost life,
The hinges that held my being together
Only remained adhered because of you,
Knowing that you were breathing alighted my soul with life,
Because I was prospective of the fact that,
One day, you might actually be mine,
I had a special place in my fantasies that I liked to visit a lot,
Because it was the only place in which you were truly and eternally mine,
You were the reason why as grown as I was,
I still dared to imagine,
Because you being in my dreams brought reality to it all,
I kissed you affectionately in those fantasies,
Feeling your soft lips tickling my mouth,
Generating waves of euphoria in every cell in my body,
I would hold you in my arms, tight,
And never let go,
You would whisper in that melodious voice of yours,
And tell me that you loved me,
You would grab my cheeks in the softness of your palms,
And draw me closer to your bosom,
I would feel your heartbeat going in the same rhythm as mine,
I would fell every sense of mine
Awaken,
I would be alive…
Then reality would jerk me back,
I would then see you with those eyes burning with love,
But they were never burning for me,
I would see you wrapped in the arms of another,
As soon as this happened,
Every time,
I felt a hollow in me form,
I would lose life, wither in the wind,
Each time I saw you with another,
I realized you were never mine,
And I would die,
So you see my dear,
I’m no longer afraid,
I’ve died too many times to be scared…
They danced and they turned and they tumbled
In wind, how it sighed and it grumbled
With force, how it howled in its fury
But still they bore no trace of worry
In cool autumn winds they cavorted
My foot! How they laughed and they sported
They flew through the air just like pheasants
Till set in my excellent presence
“Red Leaf,” quoth I unto the leader
“To fly, there is nothing more neater
But weren’t you the least bit affrighted
As thus from the breeze you alighted?”
“Dear sir,” quoth the leaf as he flitted
“To fear, for a leaf ain’t permitted
We’re taught from a bud in the cradle
That even a crash isn’t fatal.”
“I say,” quoth I unto the yellow
“You seem to be such a neat fellow
I wonder how likes you this sporting
Or if you a damsel are courting?”
Quoth he, “All this sporting is splendid
The days of my courting are ended
My lover has flown to the northward
While I am constrained to fly southward.”
Before one more word could be spoken
The peace of that moment was broken
Away flew those leaves o’er the treeses
Borne by the chill autumn breezes
October 25, 2012.
For the contest, Up in the Autumn Air. Second place.
"Hindus" that call themselves,
Regard It as a holy tree
Which alighted from the sky--
Originated from the churning of sea;
One of the fourteen 'Ratnas'
I happened to have a look at,
Which has as its guardians,
A bunch of bearded religiocrat:
Whilst I was nearby it,
I looked at it as I'd at any other grove;
Not even once it occurred to me--
The thought of its sanctity--
I was in a state of emptiness;
I had only come here to enjoy Nature;
This is when I made a move...
...Insensitive to anything but blissful greenery
Prevalent all around,
I made a jump to pluck off a leaf--
Just overhead,
And lo!there were issuing sounds
From the mouth of the sagacious,
And miscalculated words were hurled
For me as a curse...
But what could I do?I stood there,
In an imprudent fashion and kept smiling
At the miserable state of their thoughts:
They abused and mouthed obscenities,
They asked me if I was Indra
Or an inhabitant of Swarga--
The abode of the Holy tree--
I had no answers and no other expressions
Tried to cross my face--
I smiled and looked at them
In a state of serene calmness...
By the by, I took a look at the Parijat,
That Arjuna had summoned to earth;
Then I witnessed the blue heavens
And walked away as another gust of wind
That had rustled the leaves on the Sacred Tree...
I saw a look of hurt so primordial, the dust teared and cleared
Every wrinkle, every agony,
Every twinkle in his eye hopelessly wrought by words
He struggled with a bag of old books,
His white hair scraggly, his breathing heavy
I, with sorrow wrenching from my soul,
Sought his own, in a sad smile that he so feverishly caught
Moments passed, as the older man disappeared,
But I sat there, ready to speak to him if he should return
For such a catch in the eye
Cannot soon dim and die with chance
He returned swiftly,
“Excuse me, will you be here long?”
I said, “Sure. What is it?”
He looked into my eyes and smiled,
“Would you mind watching my books for just a bit?
My clarinet is in the building, I need to go fetch it from a friend.”
“Sure,” Said I. “No problem.”
He thanked me, setting the bag down near me
And walked with confidence to the building,
To retrieve his instrument
I pondered his life, the pain in his eyes,
And for a moment wondered how it might compare to mine
This old man, struggling with a massive bag of books,
An even greater weight pressing upon his practiced brain
A brain filled with the pure notes of a mechanism that soars
He returned almost joyously, thanking me once again,
Relaying to me his previous sufferings,
Unkind, uncouth words,
In his mind, sure and inerasable
“Have you ever been treated so ill you wished to die?
Have you ever felt that little?
Felt so powerless, and failing?
Surely I must be boring you. . .”
When his countenance calmed and I reassured him,
Offering my sympathetic ear,
And many a sensitive nod,
He asked my name before leaving forever
“Ah…do you know the song ‘Laura’?”
He hummed the tune and I beamed, nodding,
Remembering the haunting melody
It was as if he was anticipating that nod,
That he knew I recognized such a strange, haunting tune
By his happy, alighted smile
So when he went on his way,
With his heavy bag of books,
And his clarinet tucked safely in his black box,
Our pains sauntered on to less fortunate fellows
Two Aloha-shirted Hawaiians
of generous girth were strumming
their ukuleles
on a small stage in front of the hotel’s poolside bar
in the late afternoon,
rehearsing for the night’s performance.
It must have been the low season,
as both bar and pool were deserted.
and the singer, unburdened
by a leis-laden audience’s
Mai Tai-soaked expectations,
was going through a mele
as if trying it on for size,
his voice loose-limbed with an easy grace.
Wrapped in the ukuleles' lolling strains,
his falsetto notes tumbled out into an
uncongested airspace,
where no ceiling formed by small talk, disjointed laughter
or tinkling glasses impeded their progress,
so they unfurled their wings,
lifted themselves into the hibiscus-brushed breeze,
and climbed,
hopscotching and frolicking on their ascent,
skipping from Tiki torch to treetop to balcony.
Some straggled, loitered on windowsills.
Some, afraid of heights, fluttered back down
to rest on top of beach umbrellas
next to shadows of palm fronds.
Still others hang-glided out over the sand
and the lapis water,
lured by the marigold light.
So that, when they alighted on my
hotel room balcony ten floors above,
they were fragments,
excerpted by the intervening air
from the upflowing cascade into
a broken yet voluptuous murmur,
a soft, lilting South Seas benediction
floating around my head.
I’d just sat down in the balcony chair, alone,
my wife being inside the room busying herself
with the correct placement of luggage
after we’d checked in.
And so it was that I found myself looking out
at the beginnings of a sky-painting Maui sunset
accompanied by air that quietly sang.
Maybe it was my senses unwinding
after the bustle of the journey,
or maybe it was simply that I was caught unawares,
but the feeling of contentment,
the almost Zen-like awareness of the here and now,
that overcame me at that moment was something
no convergence of sights and sounds
has been able to reproduce in the 20 years since.
It was, to be sure, an experience I’d paid more than
a negligible amount of money for.
The irony is that it was the first time
I truly understood the simplicity of happiness.
Mahalo.
THE RAVEN (NOT FROM POE)
A raven chick attempted first flying lesson
He didn't quite make his preplanned destination
Mother bird stood by evaluating his flying foray
Okay is good but good is not okay
There's more to this story and it's all true
Mother had something more before she
was through
When her little bird alighted on one of
canyons' ledges
She flew to him and placed a treat from
her beak into the fledger's
But there are some who have no use for birds
Using birds as models for disparaging words
Pointing a finger "bird brain" they will say
Not realizing the finger is pointed the wrong way
Diva with human touch- for contest
Alighted she from her red limousine
Bedecked in A-line gown, pista green
Till the waist embroidered golden sheen
Satin silk with a halter neckline
Charming face and a vibrant smile!
Stiletto glassy gold with shiny stones
Diamonds green dangled from her earlobes
Clutch in hand golden green embellished with pearls
Nail art elegant studded with shimmers added extra glow
Glossy red lips, curly eye-lashes, glamour gushed in flow
Chiselled nose, magical eyes, hairstyle mussed beehive
She looked a mermaid of fairyland
With rosy cheeks and graceful style
Confident steps on the red carpet
Huge cheer from the umpteen fans
Gorgeous diva of dreams she was
Guys present had skipped heartbeat
Cameras flashed to click her pics
She looked seasoned to this paparazzi and glitz
Waved she her hands and sent flying kiss
Autographs from classy pen with golden nib
Chaperoned by a handsome guy,
reached the stage beautifully set for her
Mike in hand she addressed the crowd with I love you all....
Money I raise from my song tonight will go to my charity drive
To help shape future of the children from the war-torn land
Huge applause and then follows sweet song in her voice
Celebrated beauty she already was yet more
beautiful her ways
Her charms always struck the sight but her tender heart won the soul!
© Copyright Anulaxmi Nayak,2015
For contest: Puttin on the Ritz
Sponsored by: Judy Konos
Submitted on: 4th September 2015