Best Caspian Poems
Silent Lies and Deception
In the silence of murky waters
There slithers oily snakes of the night
Wearing masks of deception
Beware of fools singing with Stalin’s tongue
The KGB shall set you free
Drowning you in the river Volga
The cold water keeping your lips tight
Whilst the silent ones spread their deceits
Lies, lies their dirty little lies
I wonder how their tongues wag and loudly sprout
So righteous, like imams with out a doubt
I call for radio silence
When comes the clique of hate
They say they have none, and
Maybe this is true
They run out at times, spreading it to you
Those who truly have good will and peace
Growing like flowers in a botanical heaven
Never spew the bloody insecticides here on earth
That alters the genes of peace in me and you
Beware of white sheep
That howls like the wolf at the full moon
A wise man knows the meaning of silence
Silent ones simply slither sneaky prose in the night
The Caspian Sea
Holds many ghosts who if not for death
Could tell you many silent tales
Of those with a million smiles and twisted masks
Seekers of the Silent Lies and Deception
Dead Sea and salty tombs
Silent in womb
Notes: The last poems Angel and Devil, about mans ability for both good and evil, I continued the theme here, by describing two repressive regimes, Russian under the likes of Stalin and Putin and the Palestinian one under Arafat. The poem is either incomplete or to be continued in a second poem, as in the end I inferred the Silent one Amina, a story about the repression and hardships of women in India. An excellent book by a great author Fiza Pathan.
Categories:
caspian, corruption, evil, history, humanity,
Form:
Free verse
The great Kings and Queens have now returned
to a time and a land so foreboding and spurned.
Since the time they had left what could have gone wrong?
For what had once been, all Narnia now longed.
Little did they know the adventure in store,
the reason they were called back through “the door”.
This castle so strong an army had attacked,
Narnia was passing from sight- this to them was fact.
But one was born to rule and restore all things,
a Tamarin prince who was meant to be king.
Young Caspian grew up amidst deception and lust,
hardly was there now a soul he could trust.
Circumstances threw these young ones together,
choices they made would seal Narnia’s fate forever.
Hatred for the past fuled the world of men,
they swore the land of Narnia would never rise again.
Prince Caspian and High King Peter led the fight
rallying Narnian creatures in the quest for the right.
And so both sides had at it till mighty Aslan appeared,
the coming of the great lion put down Narnia’s fears.
Now, a just king Caspian’s words were heeded,
King Peter and Queen Susan were no longer needed.
The young ones vanished from the sight of them all-
Edmund and Lucy would one day hear "the call".
So, a last look around as they step through “the door”,
a tree in the courtyard took them to “ another shore”.
They arrived the same spot, awaiting the train
but having been in Narnia, they’d never be the same.
***From the Disney- Walden Media movies based off the C. S. Lewis novels
“The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe” and “Prince Caspian”***
Categories:
caspian, adventure, allegory, childhood, fantasy,
Form:
Rhyme
The whirling Dervish leaves fell…
Clouds of reindeer from the kebab
House as well, in deepest down town
Camberwell …a Turkish Christmas
…he announced
“Come and hunt wolves in the Caspian
Mountains with my uncle” he said….
I declined …keen to protect the wolves
And my reputation as a liberal
Damn...what a fool I was:
Categories:
caspian, memory,
Form:
Free verse
A place where the forgotten still roam free;
of creatures and lands that once used to be.
The doorway to here could be any where;
to a time of myths and legends thought rare.
I see them, playing out along the shore,
four children have just now come through “the door”.
They stand in the shadows of what once had been,
a palace that housed their four thrones within.
They remembered back a thousand years and more
when once before they had come through “the door”.
Peter and Edmund, the great kings of old
with Susan and Lucy, fair queens decked in gold.
Their coming brought an end to the white witch’s reign
and united all Narnia under Aslan once again.
He sat them on Camp Caravelles’ four thrones
and the reign of these kings and queens would be known.
All the land prospered under their generous rule
and unlike the white witch, they were not cruel.
They grew in their wisdom on up through the years
until, while riding their horses, they just disappeared.
While riding deep in the forest they came
to a place remembered as “spare um” by name.
Upon reaching the lamppost, they ran to "the door"
pushing their way through coats, they fell to the floor.
On their return through the wardrobe, they were children again
and their time in Narnia they did not want to end.
But once kings and queens in Narnia, always they would be.
This is what Aslan said in the story that we read.
To be continued...........
***From the Disney-Walden Media movies based off “The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe”
and “Prince Caspian” novels written by the great C. S. Lewis***
Categories:
caspian, adventure, allegory, childhood, fantasy,
Form:
Rhyme
The gift of life
is a word unspoken
Hurried words
are buried words,
made of glass,
that burst into
into orange tangerine
flames, as words
singe the earth
Words are buried
deep beneath the
pinecone trees,
like a wood beetle,
digging for words unspoken
Words should never die
because they walk
on hallowed ground,
beneath the holy grail
of words unspoken
Unsaid words sail
like ships at night,
in the Caspian Sea
words ebb and flow like
crested waves, endlessly
these words restored my soul
If these words
can reach your soul,
then, let them be
words unspoken
Categories:
caspian, imagination, inspirational, introspection, words,
Form:
Free verse
caspian sailor
having spousal dreams, creates
the sea's swell of tears
Categories:
caspian, art, life, sea,
Form:
Haiku
The Caspian Sea; is that where friendly ghosts go for vacation?
Big as a football field: don't you know about foot measurements??
The Swat Team; I called them when my house was infested with flies.
My psychiatrist asked me if I had any "old reservations" about a desire to end
some bad habits. I said, "Yeah, I have some old reservations- two unredeemed
tickets to a 1973 Pink Floyd concert" this really took place.
How come 2 & 2 isn't 22??
Enough for now, all you dedicated "Soupers"
Categories:
caspian, confusion, funny, imagination, on
Form:
Burlesque
I waited
Under the outspread foliage
Of the banana tree,
With ripening fruits dangling precariously,
Wondering,
With eyes set on the earth,
Wishing I understood
This everlasting madness.
To what end would man go,
To what end?
A mystery it remains,
Like the age old conundrum
Of the seniority between the hen and the egg,
Like the unfathomable depths of the bottomless pit...
Oh! Lamenting in unbridled grief,
Mother of all,
Seated on an ashen throne,
Wails poignantly,
While her children trade mighty fists,
Wetted by her tears,
Buoyed no less by her flashing darts
Of fierce reproof..
I, a mere bystander,
Watching, meditating, confused,
Lost, trying to understand what
Led to such fisticuffs
Between brothers who sucked on
The small obfuscated nipple
And rode the same burdened back..
Yes!
To what abysmal end?
What, hidden under the rigid crusts of the earth
Drives man to seek so zealously
To bury his fellow man
Six inches below
And shake his head
From side to side
Wearing rehearsed frowns,
Indifferent, obeying the laws
Of anarchy, and basking
In the prestige
Of ill advantage?
For in these matters,
Fasidically christened "the survival arts"
Men show sleight of hand,
Dexterity and mastery of the deleterious science
Of death...
And for his fellow, he is unapologetic..
Fallen, have you into the cesspool
And mucky wastes of nothingness,
You survived not,
And as such, were not fit to survive...
We, must hold our
Small heads in mad agony,
For shamelessly, we have
Trampled on the little men,
So dastardly disparaged
Till they shrunk,
Into tiny ants
Who suffer in silence
While the mammoths fight
For the trophy from Sheol..
I wondered....
Days passed,
Nights went by, sleep eluded me,
Nightmares sought out my deranged mind
And tormented me,
And I could not bear it any longer!
I searched the lengths and breadths of the earth
For answers, from men
wizened beyond my years,
But found them not...
I found only fools,
Tightly snuggled in their cosy territories
With mighty barricades
And tall barb-wired fences,
Throwing orgies...
For they had defeated themselves...
It was then, I slept...
This time, in the gentle
Stillness of the Caspian,
Wishing I was never born....
Categories:
caspian, bereavement, birth, confusion, visionary,
Form:
Free verse
It is my most special place on earth
and no one knows that but me
Who knows where this log has been
before it washed in from the sea
Did it rest of the shores of Alaska
or drift down from the Caspian Sea
Has someone else sat on it and wondered,
has it crossed the ocean just for me
I drag my toes through the sun-warmed sand
and watch baby crabs scamper over my feet
I'm daydreaming and yet I'm so curious
how I've come to nature's window seat
I think of my most treasured memories,
and of things that have ever made me cry
I wonder who else has sat on this log
and thought how life is passing them by
The smell of the ocean's salty water
and the blissful calm of the warm sun today
makes me remember a time oh so long ago
when our family often came here to play
I'm so sad but I know just how lucky I am
to have this special and wonderful memory
There's not a better place to come and think
than this weathered old seat by the sea
Categories:
caspian, imagination, sea, me,
Form:
Quatrain
Ruslan is Caucasian and he’s my true blood brother
Unlike me, he has a rare Herculean body, and mind
Strong and bold he is, yet gentle; tall, and yet humble
Letting his shadow walks in to lowly, unrhymed mine
As protective carapace, against evil vices of this world
Not really happy seeing me, with a red pack and lighter
Speaking humbly the tongue, of love--the eye of peace
As we sat, contently, on the field of golden green tares
Nurturing his great ambitions, for my own wicked self
Thrashing out the timidity, of my broken heart and soul
Inspiration he is, for me, till I became exactly, like him
A silent poet, like fog in early morn with a gentle rhyme
Good morning to you, good morning to me, O, I see you
O my dear Robin, go now and fly, over the Caspian sky
Categories:
caspian, friendship, inspirational, life, love,
Form:
Name
A BUTTERFLIGHT’S MR. RIGHT
Last night was television and going to sleep at eight
You were exhausted even though it wasn’t very late
So upon your pillow placed placidly lay comforted by soft
Until your weakened eyes closed and dreams lifted you aloft
In the dream you can’t really fly but it feels as if you do
Everything was vivid, the violet, the green and the blue
Flowers were everywhere and you cherished each one
While subconsciously you prayed this dream would never be done
Little children’s laughter echoed through the city where ever you went
And when angels whispered in your ear you knew not what they meant
You were headed for Mrs. Lopez’s little bodega where everything’s on sale
And she always has an amusing anecdote and laughs at herself after each tale
Milk, eggs, bread, butter and all that’s essential
And then the angels whispered, “this day has potential”
You headed home confused by what the seraphim had said
But in reality you were sleeping snuggled in the warmth of your bed
So back to the dream and it’s glorious end
With nary a scene no one need mend
You finished purchasing everything you’ve penned
Alas on the way home you dropped a package and a handsome man said “Pardon me but I’ve
a hand to lend”
And suddenly you recall what the angels said and you began to understand
And pictured this perfect pair sitting atop a dune carved out of sand
It was either the Mediterranean or the Caspian Sea
As you walked shoeless and he whispered, my sweet, it’s just you and me
With a wink and a yawn you awake in the very same bed
But still wondering about those angels and what they had said
Still you arose to shed lingerie for a lovely little skirt and a sweater
You tell yourself it was just a dream but reality would be much better
So that morning you were walking to work still wondering all along
It doesn’t matter what those angels said because even they can be wrong
Suddenly you drop your briefcase when you see a handsome man begin to bend
And then those angels made your Mr. Right say, “Pardon me, but I’ve a hand to lend”
© 2011.…phreepoetree
Girl, the worst kind of butterfly to be is in a collection smooshed between two panes of glass in
someone‘s beautiful collection …..don’t let happen to you!
Categories:
caspian, fantasydream, home, dream, home,
Form:
Quatrain
Water Hand Pump
I wonder whence the pipe goes?
Underground Niagra, Mississippi or Caspian Sea?
Working the Up-Down Handle like Punching a PIN,
A Subterranean ATM of Cool Crystal Quench,
Sometimes the Handle Ignores Rapid Work,
Just as Licking a Stamp, I Have to Prime,
Give to Get, Down Goes Wet, Up Comes Sublime,
As If Sensient, What Goes Around, It Understands,
Physics Doesn't Play Games, Invest the Good,
Even Salt Water Brings Up the Sweet,
Not Machine Psychology but Leather Swelling,
Sealing the Gap Between Bucket & Sub-Dwelling.
Now Primed, Pumping Towards the Ground,
Creates Cavity 'Tween this World & Maybe Hell,
A Spurting Fountain Results from the Well.
If Only All Life Were Clear & Transparent,
Nature's Dignity Comes from Innocence,
In Figuring Things Out, I Stand More Erect,
Glimpsing, Enacting Cause & Effect.
Categories:
caspian, childhood, nature, technology, water,
Form:
Free verse
COME HOME SOLDIER
No more sounds of tanks,
The rain of bullets has seized,
Grenades are no more fund,
Remove your helmet and lie down,
Let the peaceful breeze calm your head,
The era of peace has come,
The withered grasses now green,
Flowers shines like the Caspian sea,
Babies happily glued to mothers’ bodies,
The rain wets the ground,
And smile on everyone’s faces,
To the gallant man,
To the brave soldier who fought side by side with his comrades,
Depart from your gun and come home.
ANYABOLU IFEANYI DOMINION GENTLE
A.D 2019, 19 MAR
Categories:
caspian, cheer up, military, war,
Form:
Sonnet
Panthira tigris,
gone extinct.
The way of the Caspian,
the Javan and the Bali.
Forgotten in history;
to be replaced
...by man's folly.
The majestic, muscular
orange facade.
Peppered with black
and spicy shag.
...And those legendary fangs,
which haunt our dreams.
Disappeared, never to be seen.
Tomorrow's youth will never know,
the beauty of these beasts.
Their spirit and their courage,
their mystique carried;
...in all our hearts.
The great cats, which we revere
will disappear.
Who's to blame? Where's the shame?
The disconnect between man and nature,
went too far. We need to remember who we are
...before we kill ourselves as well.
In memoriam: Tigers (the beginning of time-when man killed them.)
Categories:
caspian, dedicationin memoriam,
Form:
Woman!
Tenderness
Dissolves
Through
Your eyes glance
Like a young water stream
That makes his way
Through the Mississippi
Time,
Space,
Big towns,
Villages,
Corn and soybean fields,
Desert and dunes,
The Atlantic,
The Caspian Sea,
Dissolve
At the edge
Of your lips.
Categories:
caspian, art, imagination, inspirational, love,
Form: