Best Similarly Poems
Concluded
A Poem as a Tribute on Mother's Day Part 3 concluded.
.
My mother Late Rajrani Kapoor devoted her whole life,
for the love and care of her husband,
My most wonderful father (Late Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor)
Who had given her more pains of separations,
then the flowers of happiness as life companion,
As my father had sacrificed even his studies and
other comforts of life
For the sake of India’s freedom struggle
On the call of Mahatma Gandhi. 11
.
Suddenly I heard as if, the Koyal had left
That tree shade and had flew away
to some other tree
To continue her melody but
Without leaving any mark of her,
wonderful singing on the tree or anywhere
I realized that, no epitaph would ever be made
In the honour of
Such wonderful songs of Koyal
Similarly, no epitaph would ever be made
For all such wonderful freedom struggle workers
Like my mother,
Who silently contributed the best possible for her
For the sake of her motherland. 12
Ravindra K Kapoor
12th may 2019
The lowly turnip
Earthy, fleshy
Roots falling from its eyes
Fed to livestock
One of God’s root crops
Yet deemed untasty
By most palates
Carrots and potatoes
Receive accolades
Carrots in orange party dress
So crunchy and sweet
Fit in the school child’s lunch box
Potatoes in russet brown
Mashed, fried and frittered
Prized alongside McDonalds and Kentucky Fried
Do not despair, my friend,
Not all root crops
Are valued similarly
Said the rutabaga disparagingly
Forbidden as the fruit in the garden of Eden,
But is merciless as man's carnal desire.
Similarly ripe and succulent,
And provoking instantaneous salivation,
A desire to taste.
The oasis in a desert of heat and sand,
Quenching the instinctive thirst of man.
The bearer of fruit,
Giver of life,
The garden in which man plants his seed,
And grants the world mortality.
Once a symbol of purity and innocence,
The most beautiful of flowers in a field of many.
Harvesting of such a blossom does not result in decadence,
But instead marks fertility,
And the renewal of that virtue.
Dawning of all existence,
Fulfillment of all desires,
And the divine being of all creation,
Eternally unaware of the power it possesses.
Birds go crazy
In round cages
*my bird guru would seek out round bird cages listed for sale
and purchase them to destroy them
he told me that goldfish were similarly affected in round bowls
makes me wonder...
of Knowing Thee
…Of Thee
holding peace…Glory
overlying, fine/
quite sheer radiance
overall/
dimensional
The Omnipotence of Thee
Most Holy I-AM…
nonperiel
— infinite — intimate —
pervasive Divine
enduring Breath of Life
composing the songs
of legions of translucent angels
opening petals unseen
that our souls glean
completely in the blessings
of all the shades and hues
of your redeeming life
and light
(from allizarin to zuggarat)
dressing our hours…
as graced in delight or suffering
bringing degrees of learning
to transform our journeying
time anew
— from being grown
in humanity’s coarse ground
— to becoming branches bearing
the fruit of this New Wine
grown from deeply rooted vines
for Thee, by Thee and in Thee
from dust to stardust:
magnificent!
——————-
————————————*** Inspired by & written for my dear soul-friends at PoetrySoup.com (especially of late for the support given to me & Jim duing my illnss), as I am so daily touched by their poetry’s deeply creative spirits voicing their devotion to Our Holy Father God and King. I have found no other place on-line as similarly expressive of such blessed love. Finding the world of poetry here& & the sweet fellowship it founds, saved my life from a degree of lonliness & grief, after my beloved poet friend here in KY committed suicide without warning in 2019". I am so thankful…to God for the open & ready hearts that may be found here. In the theme of many poems I’ve read here, I’ve truly re-defined my definition of Gratitude. I repeatedly & repeatedly, too, pray God will bless all of you!
(c) s.y.eslinger 5/2024
Thanks be to God—
** What’s Torn **
What’s been torn off or away may be
a recurring theme — of dreams or memory —
that nags, popping up unexpectedly
to recall or, for dear losses, again grieve…
The things thieved
from life — as divinely conceied,
like the Amazon forest’s trees —
don’t leave, but remain in a spectral reality…
What’s been torn away
may similarly refuse to leave —
like my calve, cut from my body, will scream,
sending phantom pain in suffered agonies…
What was seized from me on that mournful day,
— sculpted by dancing ballet for a decade,
stayed as I went from anestesized to awake
into a daytime nightmare without any escape…
When life sends us to dire places,
where hopelessness would subjugate us,
God will guard our souls and grace us
with a strength: resounding to the soul…
Left ragged, like having my health fail
in reaching goals, I will feel my heart wail
near breaking, but I refuse to let my faith pale
…believing the prayers of heaven will entail
blessings to help all God’s children prevail.
—————————
((c) s.y..eslinger 3/2024
**an addition to “On Phantom Pain” poem still in progress at this time
Relax,
Get in the mood.
Elevate your state of being
we're about to create
a bond that can't be broken
as your mind creates sense
of all theses words that are seen
but never spoken.
Let us melt our beings into complete darkness
and live a thousand lives as criminals
whom refuse the rule of the machine,
You and I, we've always been
doomed to be forgotten.
Hear me when I say
it does not matter
whether it's black or white
What we hold between us
is carried on a breeze throughout the night
more so, beyond the dawn of a new day
piercing into a reality
that is the bane of existence.
Come,
Let's dissipate into a thousand colours
and paint over the gray essences
of all those similarly broken souls
whom never really had a clear view
of their goals.
Shall we
Cast aside the boulders we carry,
witness the marriage of mind and matter
until there's nothing left of us
merely a splatter
hidden somewhere, nearly forgotten
in the consciousness of strangers
building their dreams.
War without weapon
=================
War takes place with
The help of weapons,
Weapons win or fighters win.
God alone knows.
Can a fight take place
Without weapons?
Yes, fights do take place
Without weapons.
The weapon is your mouth.
At times the words
Come out of your mouth
Are more painful than the
Wounds created by swords.
Sharp weapon is nothing Compared to sharp mouth.
The wound created by a weapon can be healed.
But not the pain created by words.
Words and swords
Hardly any difference
Except the 's' in front of sword
Both are capable of the same job, hurting people
Also, both words and swords
Can help people in their own way and style.
Good and comforting words
Are a great solace to humans.
Similarly, swords can be used
For useful cuttings
A Painting Unsigned
Written: by Tom Wright
December 2014
Rooftops, at dawn, were covered
With luminous frost,
Appearing today, professionally done
While I lay sleeping;
The grass and trees likewise being
Similarly embossed,
While from the east, a rising sun,
Is peeping;
To erase each rooftop, blade of grass,
And un-leafed tree,
It’s, as if, being nature’s giant eraser
It’s been assigned.
From previous occurrences this outcome
I can for-see,
God will let this splendid painting,
Go unsigned.
Picture, if you will, mirrors of light
where dreams and reality embrace.
Both lie at the darkest edge of Night,
superimposed on ebony space.
Sharing shades of a violet hue,
they seamlessly brush darkness away.
And as these mirrors come into view,
they reflect the Night's starry array.
Similarly, they flaunt paradise,
dual sanctuaries shining bright.
Presenting Eden, not once but twice,
offering a choice of left or right.
One shows signs that people might live there:
human beings, imbued with a soul.
Yet, it's hard to see past what they share,
while either choice could levy a toll.
Both appear equally lush and green,
and yet, just one hints at human lives.
On the left, a garden can be seen,
while on the right, Nature's bounty thrives.
Choose between these orbs hung on black,
decide before you step through that glass.
For, unlike Alice, there's no way back
from where souls exist, or souls trespass.
Many place names in Australia reek of notoriety and oppression
Where massacres took place, involved first nation native population,
men, women and children, demonstrates gross inhumane expression
Many of these place names remain, Bones Knob, Murderers Flat, Skull Creek
are mapped in a university publication
The area where my family resided
may similarly have followed, same infamous identification
My paternal Scottish ancestors, original settlers on our family farm from eighteen sixties,
a time of many massacres
With axes sweat and labour cleared the timber, populated the land with sheep
Were they involved in a massacre? And if so, my father, was it a secret he did keep ?
Existing on the nearest road a signpost declaring Butchers Ridge
only a couple of hundred metres from the old original family home
Allegedly named after a horse called Butcher
far and wide he purportedly did roam
When I was young, the story I was told about this horse
he repeatedly escaped from his owners farm, crossed a bridge
Was always discovered on a sloping piece of land,
hence the area was given the name of Butchers Ridge
A different story of the naming of this area which makes more sense
was revealed by mother after father passed away
A massacre took place giving this area its name, about which my father never spoke
did my father bear inherited shame ? It's history now no one can really say
One full moonlit night, around the time of one unable to sleep
decided to arise, some teenage pleasure I would seek
Go fishing catch a big bag of speckled brown trout
from the stream there known as Butchers Creek
Halfway between the house and my intended destination
an eerie whooshing sound right above my head
Look up !! Nothing visible on this very still clear night
Very quickly reverse my fishing decision !!! Hastily run back to the safety of my bed !!!
I have spoken to several first nation dreamtime elders about this weird eerie sound
i experienced on that distant fishing full moonlit night
They say its first nation native spirits venting anger
thus responsible for my fear. I think they may be right
Come you lonely bird!
-----
Walking forever in this same lonesome street!
Still waiting for my special someone to meet!
I have passed beyond the best of my years!
With each step forward, the blind end nears!
Know how far I've come, not what's left to go!
It has been hard all along, will it always be so?
Hear cheers in houses around my own silence!
I can't put up a fake smile, I know no pretense!
Sometimes I wonder was anyone made for me?
Or I had to live by myself, that were the way to be?
If you are one feeling deserted, join me in my walk!
I want to hear your stories, and have mine to talk!
Come you lonely bird, let's together make our nest!
We'll travel the walkways of life till we're put to rest!
-----
Poetry by Dr. Asghar Nazeer (LinkedIn profile http://sa.linkedin.com/in/drasgharnazeerlinkedinprofile)
Kindly read this poem with a lovely matching photo on LinkedIn pulse at https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/article/20140725182929-167523528-come-you-lonely-bird-let-s-together-make-our-nest-we-ll-travel-the-walkways-of-life-till-we-re-put-to-rest and my other 28 poems with similarly captivating pics at LinkedIn main author's page at https://www.linkedin.com/today/author/167523528?_mSplash=1
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You're my lady, made for me!
-----------------------
I swear to you there could never ever be!
In this whole world, as far as I could see!
Someone else who could be my soul-mate!
Except you, most precious gift of my fate!
Before we even met, I had known you forever!
Since times began, we had been apart never!
From nothing, you changed me to everything!
My queen of hearts, just with you I am a king!
You are my world, you're the love of my life!
You are my sweetheart, O my prettiest wife!
Let me yet once more get down on my knee!
To say you are my lady, who is made for me!
-------------------------
Poetry by Dr. Asghar Nazeer (LinkedIn profile http://sa.linkedin.com/in/drasgharnazeerlinkedinprofile)
Kindly read this poem with a lovely matching photo on LinkedIn Pulse at https://www.linkedin.com/today/author/167523528?_mSplash=1
Please review my other 28 poems with similarly captivating pics at my LinkedIn main author's page at https://www.linkedin.com/today/author/167523528?_mSplash=1
All my posts are shared through my Facebook community page "Hear those pics Say what clicks" https://www.facebook.com/PicsAndPoets You are most welcome to visit this page as all my posts are public and everyone may tag, share, comment on and like them.
The same posts are also shared publicly and are accessible to everyone through my Google+ page https://plus.google.com/+AsgharNazeer/posts
There was a time when tradesmen,
Like plumbers or mechanics, were all fulltime people.
But nowadays a tradesman has to do multiple tasks,
Mainly because their number is dwindling.
When they are not available,
Householders have to do the job themselves.
It stands to reason.
Similarly, occupations like thieving, robbery, villainy, etc.,
Used to be carried on on a fulltime-basis.
You could tell such characters apart
By their behavior, dress code and looks.
Fagin, Phoolan Devi, and Veerappan are eloquent examples.
Even a street dog could easily single them out
And start barking loudly.
But nowadays, in these postmodern times,
Or Kali Yuga (if you like),
Such marks of distinction seem to be lost.
Obviously, such ‘trades’ nowadays have gone part-time.
But the question is: Why so many part-time people
(seeing that their number is ever increasing),
And when, evidently, there is so much scope?
Why don't people go fulltime?
Could anyone explain why or why not?
You and I make the rainbow!
------------------
You know dear why I love rain?
It washes away my soul's strain!
My hair fall free to go with the flow!
My face lights up, gets back its glow!
That's why I am letting me get wet!
I haven't got that dreamy feeling yet!
When water tickles under my feet!
Dribbling drops form a dance beat!
The breeze around asks me to fly!
Even if I know I couldn't, I still try!
I go into another world, while I'm here!
The sky that's so far, to me it gets near!
While I am afloat, under the cloud's gazebo!
Not the raindrops, you and I make rainbow!
-----------------------
Poetry by Dr. Asghar Nazeer (LinkedIn profile http://sa.linkedin.com/in/drasgharnazeerlinkedinprofile)
Kindly read this poem with a lovely matching photo by Ms. Linda Sherman on LinkedIn pulse at https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/article/20140820205500-167523528-you-and-i-make-the-rainbow and with a beautiful captivating painting on LinkedIn Pulse at https://www.linkedin.com/today/author/167523528?_mSplash=1
Please review my other 28 poems with similarly captivating pics at my LinkedIn main author's page at https://www.linkedin.com/today/author/167523528?_mSplash=1
All my posts are shared through my Facebook community page "Hear those pics Say what clicks" https://www.facebook.com/PicsAndPoets You are most welcome to visit this page as all my posts are public and everyone may tag, share, comment on and like them.
The same posts are also shared publicly and are accessible to everyone through my Google+ page https://plus.google.com/+AsgharNazeer/posts