Best Shuttled Poems
Glimmer in the sky
Leaves a trail of powdered white
Roar engulfs the ground
Hundreds of souls are shuttled
At nearly the speed of sound
School was a mile and a half
walk from home,
across roadways, busy streets
and railway lines and through
parklands patrolled
by swooping magpies in spring.
We thought nothing of it
when it was pouring with rain
or hot as hell. Six year olds
walked a gauntlet of risk
back then.
Memory can almost recall
an image of each house
along that daily route, the smells
that gathered in the doorways
of shops, the reek of urine
wafting out of a laneway
beside the pub and, still mapped
upon the mind, where fruit trees
overhung a fence and were good
for a seasonal treat.
Each step taken fed the senses
with familiar signposts marking
the way between home
and the schoolyard gate.
Time has passed
into a more protective and yet
more dangerous age. Children
are shuttled to school by parents
in bull bar protected SUV's
and buses with flashing lights.
Souls have become
more brittle under the weight
of an insidious world, perhaps
no better or worse off
than when I walked to school
and danger hid in places where
the senses could go. In my day,
bully boys had names
and were dressed in uniforms.
Now, it is in the odorless
corridors behind digital screens
and in promises where lives
tick away in the sterile
waiting rooms
of mortgaged dreams.
Logo streets
Tarek Hassan
I saw in Kathmandu in Nepal
Hand-crafted paintings of the city, aesthetic artistry
She did like him forgot
Suddenly the door sound memory.
I went to the Indonesian island of buttam
Filled eyes saw, the sea shore
I wrote the name of the plane splitting book
Baluchar got to bed rest.
I saw the sea waves Malay
A long line of rows in the garden of the plume,
Malekkara arranged the scene, to me,
It was really fascinating, bhuleni mind.
I saw the Maldives, around the island city
Travel enthusiasts spend hours in the parlor
Small passenger plane shuttled everyone
No it does not flying and landing airport.
I've lived long, the city of dreams
Eternal spring in the country, the love
Took her as his workers,
He went to the city, I saw how much
Are there to touch hands
luxury lifetime pass in Palace.
I traveled in China in technology
Many people say to me they don't understand
I was impressed to see the love of their homeland,
How many state alleges the new angirase
lightning at night I have seen in Beijing.
I went to Hong Kong on the way
He also saw how the people
I am surprised the external mix, fascinating behaviors,
I have no one to tell details.
I have seen skilled people in the Philippines exercises
Again I saw something there to look dirty,
I was shocked to see their culture
Girl brutalized the country.
I went to India, to heal the mind
How many scenes have been unknowingly plunge
I have seen the Taj Mahal in Agra, I thought again and again
Why do we need so much love.
I bent down and touched the high mountains of Bhutan
I shook with fear of their lives when the plane varies
I'm going down through the mountains.
I went to Australia, on the ground
I could not keep my feet,
The fate did not respond to me, warning that day
dream is still chasing me.
I love to this day, do not see the city
I did it in the hope chest, one night,
This is a dream I have traveled on the fog
Logo luxury streets.
There was nowhere to go,
but I got some company for show-
shuttled me in and out of Po',
raced a car and blew a motor...
Got me into shows,
had me playin’ like a vote,
I was reachin’ for the glows,
but was satisfied by all the bones-
in and out of cold,
I had company for show,
they let me know I was dope,
hit me up over the older phone-
waited for notes,
sat on a couch and watched wobbly-
intermittent heart throbbing,
as well as comedy-
the mood was drunken,
I raced with the stumpin’,
doin' it only once in a while-
but hey,
who are the one’s that are plunkin?
I loved Romper Stomper and reality t.v,
Boon Dock Saints, Archer and Weeds,
it was all what was happening free,
my laughter became the clapping,
my time as king was rapture,
as it seemed-
I could simply capture all my relative needs.
Life is short
A day has passed
An hour is gone
A minute is consumed
A second still counts
Months have been washed away by rain
A heartbeat is still beating
Slowly but surely
Waiting for that moment to come
A mother,a father, a sister and a brother very weak
Longing for the day
When the heartbeat will stop
A voice saved
Last words from her mouth
Coming out bit by bit
Tears of their loved ones,dripping and drenching from their faces,really heartbroken
Torn apart,last day with her,last kiss,last word and then all shuttled down and chapter closed all because life is short..
Your love scrambled my heart as if it were a three egg omelet
Breaking the shell of my soul till it crumbled
I am trying so hard just to forget
My inner self tumbled, bumbled
I felt shuffled, feeling muffled
I feel ruffled, our times stumbled
I would rather baste than forget
Or fry if our times you regret
My loves been shuttled
My emotions coupled
Left with no appeal
Spending time, letting my soul heal
Remembering, wanting to be with you.
Android Embedded Chrystal Blue
In the corner of the galaxy dead in front of night
Just left of the quasars charted long ago
A logic being called 732 thought out and calculated
Waited for the proper landing on the proper planet site
A cold green world with three moons came into view
A giant star off to the right was ready to go nova
He had to set up for the show
The probe shuttled down with perfect coordination
To the surface of the barren world
Instruments and Android 732 were on board the tiny craft
The robot is the next generation of thinking machines
Artificial intelligence of the highest level
Equipped with weapons, scientific tools, and knowledge
Liquid computers housed within its metallic head
Designed to analyze and measure everything there is
The Android is authorized to do anything it pleases
Given freedom and vast latitude to explore
Religious leaders blessed it and confirmed it
To be free in every meaning of the word
They authorized it to have a soul and save the universe from Satan
To roam and catalogue spiritual and scientific entities
Down to the micro mystical cosmic core of molecules and atoms
To advance the human and android condition without limit
It explores new planets and space anomalies by choice
Returns data to the home world through a beam of light
Android 732 crashed into the cold green planet while distracted
Focused on a giant star off to the right that just exploded
In a spectacular display of colors of reds, yellows and whites
It became enamored as it entered the green icy planet
Impacted a crystal glacier at the designated site
Became embedded in it
Froze there on the spot, anointed by blue ice
Enshrined for all eternity
An android crystal blue forever
If my calculations are correct as estimated
My tenant body constitutes a lease,
A rented fabric owed to landlord Time,
From smoothened silk to wrinkled leather’s crease,
This shuttled thread is bound in deed to grime.
My mind he stakes a vested interest in,
Its vibrancy is forced perforce to fade,
The stain of Lethe’s dull oblivion
Shall wash and sink this mind in murky shades.
Immortal dyes Arachne used to draw,
(While mortals die unraveled, naked, sheared)
Her strings contested Nature’s with their awe,
Art’s golden wool outwears the looming Weirds.
This trunk of life is tailored for a fashion,
Yet timeless wove is art’s transcendent passion.
The Bronx Zoo has a monorail
I’ve ridden many times.
It takes you into “Asia”
And the natives of its climes.
Passing elephants and rhinos
It has shuttled folks for years,
As they’ve watched amazing creatures,
Safely sitting on their fears.
But last week, just as the monorail
Approached the tiger’s den,
Someone leaped out past the fences,
The most foolish of all men.
A tiger from Siberia,
Four hundred pounds and fierce,
Was upon him in an instant
And those teeth had lots to pierce.
The keepers came and saved the man.
The tiger’s life was spared;
It merely did the job for which
Its nature was prepared.
The jumper wanted to be “one”
With that majestic beast.
I guess he didn’t realize
He’d be viewed as quite a feast.
Though animals amaze us
With their beauty and their grace,
More often I’m astounded
By the crazy human race!
On Vacation With Middle Passage Memories
Out over the alluring expanse
of the Big Water---
where the sky rest upon
the water’s edge---
where undulating ships wait
to fall off the earth---
we saw the lightening
dancing in space
and heard the applause
of the thunder.
Huge nimbus clouds,
dark like the early night,
and filled beyond capacity---
burst opened like over filled water
balloons---releasing great falls of rain
wrestling with ferocious winds;
for control of fleeing waves
rushing to shore---frothing
the sands with quenching gratitude.
Mesmerized and immobilized
by nature’s fury,
the blood flow of memory
released a storm of memories---
detailing vivid descriptions
of Middle Passage crossings.
The only things missing
from this reality of the present scene,
were the times---places---stenches
of the living and dead---echoes
of the moans, groans and rattling chains
from the bowels of the putrid ships
that saved many unfortunate poor souls
from the Big Water’s fury---ironically
landing them safely on the waiting shores
to begin life anew:
shuttled to and from the auction block.
The howling winds, roaring waves,
and whipping rains---all slowly subsided:
we hailed the shuttle bus back to the hotel.
In ancient looms of my homeland,
Fairies once shuttled across threads of rainbows
Weaving folklores of gods and goddesses.
Our tapestry needed no haberdashery of
Brabubahanas and Chitrngadas or a vijay panchali,
For no tantric-needle knitted our folktales.
I want to go back and melt in folk songs
Of shamans, who rejoiced in carnival of ripening rice,
Possessed by jingling moans of a pena.
I want to orchestrate, one more time, the ballad
Of Luwaopa and Koubru Namoinee, and
Feel the heartbeats of Henjunaha and Lairuklembi.
I want to burn my poetry in immortal angst
Of Khamba-Thoibi, and blow the ashes
On winds above Loktak's gentle ripples.
I want to defy traditions, once again,
By falling in love like Chingsompa and Panthoibi, and
Tell the world I inherited their sweet arrogance.
I want to retrace petals of
Thainagi Leirang, leaving no stones unturned,
Until I find the lost quill in ruins of alphabets.
I want to ask children of my land
To perform Eemagi Pujah by planting a Madhabi
On the stage of another Shingel Indu.
I want to revisit a forbidden village in my past, and
Reopen the second chapter of Jahera
Sitting by the old mosque with a green door.
I want to hear young Khongjomba sing
Lamphel Patki Kombirei, while I sip chilled Atingba
From a bamboo mug, in a karaoke bar.
I want to see Pidoinu dance in a discotheque
To the exotic tunes of Khulang Eshei, while
Her Moirangphi floats with iridescent embroidery.
I wish to put my ears on grandpa's clay courtyard, and
Listen to Leipaklei's sprouting sighs in a crack,
For the last time in this lifetime.
Finally, I like to be frightened again by Tapta, and
Wake up in a faraway dream where
My homeland shines as silvery as the milky way.
Note -
Names of mythical characters and entities from our folktales, history and books are used in the poem.
Pena is a stringed traditional musical instrument, played with a bow with tiny bells, of my homeland.
Loktak is a lake in my native state, which is the largest fresh water lake in eastern India, where the world's only floating wild life sanctuary lies, on which the almost extinct brow antlered deers known as Sangai, in native dialect, are preserved.
Atingba is a locally brewed rice beer.
Leipaklei is a rare orchid which sprouts out of cracks in dry soil/grounds.
Sirens sounded secretly securing source. Strait sacks swooshed scamps scaling sensitive sentries (simply spayed seals) surveying surrounding staked spy sotted sham semicircular slipshod shelter. Snappy, Snippy, Snoopy suited Skyhawks surprisingly swooped somnambulant senseless scriveners. Sargent Salemander slipped shiny shimmering shellacked Sheppards Shutterfly sidearms sized simulated small skyscraper slinky, soapy, spooky squarely summoned, sentenced, sacrificed see swarthy Samsonite satraps Section SpecialOps.
Sometime soon savior snuck stealthily stealing sinful schleppers. sundown syzygy saw serendipitous, surreptitious, surreptitious segue-way shuttled safely Scottish shoals. Stigmatization stayed steady. Supplication statements swatted. Sole survivor swiftly spun self shaming sesquipedalian soliloquy. Sea side serenade soon spewed solipsism saving Slim Shady.
Sayonara seminal surfer swirling scarily sans sinister serpentine silent space.
the square
was packed
& the high street full
meat&veg seemed plentiful
market barkers
drew the queues
with jokes
impromptu
shoppers filed
neat& formal
in sainsburys greggs
& home colonial
the bacon slicer
shuttled back& forth
rashers scaled
in halves&fourths
bread mealed smooth&strong
butter patted shaped oblong
cheese cut with twangy wire
toasted later on an open fire
ham sliced from the bone
spuds bagged weighed in stones
tea from open square tins
packet-served with a welcome grin
'woollies' snackbar smells
'elevenses' hunger time to quell
one mug of ovaltine must'nt dally
so shortcut thru' market alley
where auctioneers tones rise&fall
above the sheep&cattle stalls
then off homewards at a trot
last pennies spent in feaseys sweetshop
on the train bridge 'spotted' numbers new
waited whilst the 'cutler' raced thru'
along pebble brook time to climb a tree
on this day shopping was made coupon-free
Their satchels (twenty five) within auto-rickshaw seats dumped,
Same number (small and big; fat and lean; boys and girls) tight-clumped;
Some hanging; some stamping; some hitting and kicking each one;
The driver, gliding as though great battle won with pains none...!
June, in Southern-India, has been reopening time;
With south-west winds, monsoon sets in as a nursery rhyme;
Fun on way is complete and perfect only when there be,
Splashing water-mixed mud that looks like Kerala-milk-tea...!
Some walk, books (for not getting wet), hidden within their shirts,
They're poor government school-students; studying in outskirts;
Looking at rich-kids, anger aroused, they scream, yell and haul,
Each, yet, knows, at the very outset, fate is same for all...!
Entering within campus, for all, is crucifixion,
Soon begins, within their classrooms, teacher-student friction;
Each tutor (teaching science or math) claims to be perfect,
Kick-starting, with no intro, their vast wisdom they inject...!
Games, occasional; lessons much; Little mental vent;
Frustration of being within four walls, always ferment;
Mugging-up starts; rutting, tests and exams turn punishments,
Learning through experiments gives many embellishments...!
Getting out of those jail-like cells, is glad and heavenly,
Queries of the day, though, by parents, will start heavily;
From opening till closing, all know, they'd be shuttled now,
They're masters of mysteries, yet; will escape anyhow...!
29 August 2022
Back to School Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Francine Roberts
The brain baked and befuddled, the arid wind stole my breath. I stood there among the men, men far better than the rest. Brave men who willingly chose to leave their lovers’ breast, to be shuttled to the barren sea of sand and death. The men stowed their fears and began their quest, one that would surely put their hearts to test. Before the day was out we found ourselves sorely pressed, the bombs rained and bullets sprayed, the waves began to crest. The feted stench of blood and flesh poisoned the men with every breath. The angels cried as the brave ones rest, and joined the others in silent death. The remaining fought on at the general’s behest. Sweat and blood streaked their scowls as they fought like men possessed. Vengeance burned their hearts for their friends suppressed, they fought the coming waves in blood and gore stained vests. The day wore on, no progress made, I became depressed. I’d already lost two friends to this awful cosmic jest.
The call to prayer sounded and the air seemed to freeze. The sun sagged low and took our nemeses to the east.
A cheer arose as our enemies fled, to be replaced by fear and nagging dread.
They would return, for we all knew, they had to avenge those we slew.
The dead tended, the brave lay down in their little nests.
Only there did the tears flow for those who’d gone to rest.
I wonder, now that the day was done, what horrors tomorrow will bring, if today, this day, is only DAY 1.
Form: