The wooden floor wore
decades of dust.
Near the doorway
brooms grew out of a fire bucket
and bloomed in an odd
array of heads. A pile of coir mats
lay stacked in a wheelbarrow,
all chorused in a WELCOME.
Bernie's store was a haphazard
sprawl of hardware stuff
and followed no order at least
by any stretch of logic.
Hammers were paired
with paint, boxes of nails
mixed company with hinges
and fittings for copper pipes. And yet,
Bernie had every item carefully
mapped in his head.
Ask for something
and he would take you
straight to the spot.
It had the air of a serious place,
almost like a church. Tools were
the blessed instruments
of a sacred order, treated with care
and reverence. Back then
power tools were just coming in
but none contaminated
the sanctified air of Bernie's
hardware store.
On the back wall,
above the garden tools,
hung a plain wooden crucifix
beside a picture of Bernie's
late wife. From her lofty height
she seemed to look down
with an approving smile every time
the cash register rang,
accompanied by a “thanks”.
Categories:
coir, love, memory, nostalgia,
Form: Free verse
Captivating beauty
Covered by a brown coir
Coarse outside on touching
Conical bowl inside
Cup of soft white sweet fruit
Cool sweet water within
Carefully poured in glass
Categories:
coir, fruit,
Form: Pleiades
Her long golden braids
Fell elegant on the barren floor of the prison of a house.
It was bizarre;
Like sunflowers on infertile land
Like rubies laid on the washerman's rag cloth.
With only the furry infant mammoth to keep her company, he offered her with the only tooth that had matured,the right one.
Esther, with the sharp of the horn, cut through the strongest of coir, the fastest of flowing water, the tallest of giant trees.
But what about the mammoth? The one with no teeth? What about him?
Categories:
coir, adventure, animal, art, autumn,
Form: Prose Poetry
Of the Gods own country
of this paradise
where green and blue
merge as one
in the north is a city
that encompass the beauty
where the dream lands meet
lined by kaasaraka trees
where seven tongues are spoken
and a unique lingo was woken
lined by shores and calm beaches
which meets with forts of ancient elegance
who can pass by with no notice
the mountains high and hillocks of beauty
forests green and tranquil rivers
places of worship, unique structures
renowned for coir and handloom
and for its customs varied
The people here, with a smile of warmth
welcoming with open arms
known for their variety dishes
which does prick ones tastebuds
of the sense of fashion
who can beat their passion
and their thirst for knowledge
is to be acknowledged
fame it has know from times of yore
of the arts and culture it beholds
this is the city of budding talents
feel the vibe and do relent
© Nadiya(14 May '15)
*Chosen poem of the day on 16 May 2015
Categories:
coir, beach, beauty, city, nature,
Form: Free verse
Kaleidoscope of Life.
And behind the forest sings that nothing is the way you think
and try as you might make love to one you do not love gives
a feeling of lost time, of a useless pursuit of finding happiness in
momentarily lust that leaves nothing but melancholy behind.
The coir of the forest knew this, nymphs sang about it warning
you, cheap pleasure too dear for your soul as summer dust on
asphalt road, bleak as the word of love uttered by a tart in
a nightclub of gaudy gastropods and dancing long tailed rodents.
Dew on straw and deeper into the woodland walk to find Dryads
or best of all Meliae, the sweetest aroma, but her kisses sting your
lips if she´s upset with your craving for more. Be careful of Lempo,
the Finnish archer god, he is capricious and likes honey too.
On a stone she sits, the siren of deep tarns, her smile is deadly close
your eyes and run for your life, her former suitors sleep in silt.
Categories:
coir, fantasy, inspirational,
Form: Narrative