Best Laid Low(P) Poems

Under stars so bright
Under guise of night
Night laid low
Night shall show
Show sparks of gold
Show feelings told
Told in heaven's skies
Told in gleaming eyes
Eyes so blue
Eyes held ever true
True love grows
True love we only know
Know in this my heart
Know here my feelings start
Start so ever deep
Start where...

Continue reading...

I went back to the farm seeking Maggie, only to find that she had gone.
Searching for shelter from the storm.
Another sad eyed lady, laid low, who foretold of forlorn love,
and removed my crown of thorns. 

As the evening grew and light subdued, though not dark...

Continue reading...

Shadows seeking solitude
sunlight filters fleeting dream
soft endless kisses
are more real than they seem

Awake but still in the stillness
missing moments long past
through stained glass windows
smiles seldom forever last

Dusty records skipping with 
every floor board squeak
dancing my way ever closer
nearer your soul  to peek

In bits of...

Continue reading...

Part I: "Shadow of Intent"

Beneath the blaze of summer skies—
    A couple met by fate;
She lived where marble towers rise,
    While he bore fortune's weight.

His lady, clad in blue-white dress—
    He walked a stranger's path;
A train...

Continue reading...

Your blood it boils 
with the curse of oil
The backs of black
Their curse to toil. 

The legs you wear 
Covered in blood forever
And covered in gold 
that can never get old
as it stays forever in a trash heap
But as you sow so shall you reap

Look...

Continue reading...

In seeming innocence		you lie in the warm ochre
in the center of a dust-kicked street,
a remnant of larger issues	crushed to just the right size
	 by killing blows.

Before the mob merged   before catcalls
raised the hairs on the back of your neck,
you had been of a...

Continue reading...

Oh! What a weary world of woe
To see a pious man, laid low
A pitiless look, from Godless eyes
Barabbas luck, means His demise

His destiny, to be betrayed
That Judas kiss, a liar made
A King of Kings, in paupers clothes
A Crown of Thorns, His sweet repose

For He’s no...

Continue reading...

When Freedom Grows Cold
(not a nice poem)

One day the dogs will not bark. 
I/we will not be ready, 
as they will have failed...
to do all that was needed, 
and asked of them. 
Perhaps not their fault, 
as in Venezuela... 
they are eaten by the poor....

Continue reading...

Hostages, Translation of Pierre Emmanuel’s Otages* by T. Wignesan

This blood will never dry up on our land
and those felled will lie there exposed.
We’ll keep grinding our teeth for fear of blurting out
we’ll not cry over these crosses upturned.

But we’ll remember these laid low devoid of...

Continue reading...

A French Narrative Poem: A wren comes to rest on a reed after the storm – Dialogue between the bird and the shrub. Translation of Rene Etiemble’s poem: Narration Française

(The very first poem composed by Etiemble while a student of Class 5A at the Lycée...

Continue reading...

Family Reunion


There is going to be a family reunion
Unlike the family of mankind has ever seen before
In a thousand million life cycles

Earth people will shout for joy
At the site of their brothers and sisters
Who have been long separated from them

Who have traveled and transverse
The entire...

Continue reading...

We can’t defeat the clock,
despite our best intent.
No buffer to the shock,
no reason to lament.

Don’t be sad, don’t be scared,
you can’t abandon hope.
Think of all that we’ve shared,
you’ll find a way to cope.

This gift is only lent
and certain rules apply.
Enjoy what we’ve been sent,
don’t watch...

Continue reading...

There she stood under the midday sun, 
Holding it against her ear as she spoke.
A loved one on the other line, 
And a million things in her mind.

Loved ones? So they said
They left me hanging on the edge.
Irresponsibly to my fate I was abandoned,
 Despite...

Continue reading...

Translation of Mathieu POKORA’s « Je suis tombé, tombé, tombé » by T Wignesan

(NOTE : I just thought I’d translate the lyrics (see the French original herebelow) of this lilting catchy tune not just because of its self-mocking candid insouciance and playful seriousness, but also...

Continue reading...

Time And Chance

“11 I have seen something else under the sun: The race is not to the swift 
or the battle to the strong, nor does food come to the wise or wealth to the brilliant or favor to the learned; but time and chance...

Continue reading...