Coffin
Your striking aura leaves most folks aghast,
a somber beauty that bequeaths its mark.
Adorned in satin, some would think miscast,
may leave the tenant raging in the dark.
Declaims fond memoirs of the recent past,
before the raven called, there was a lark.
How fitting that you came to be from death
and now inured to lack of deed and breath.
Categories:
declaims, death,
Form: Ottava rima
The man, with a pen in the pocket of his
suit of yesterday and today, that has chosen a place
in a rocky shoreline, sits contently, waiting
for the orb to settle down a smile from which words
of mystic sea whirl, enjoying the summer wind.
The man, with a pen in the pocket of his
suit of yesterday and today, feels rejuvenated
from the touch
of those lips, etched in a photograph. Ah, memories
good or bad, are always permanent!
The mountains and the seas tilt nigher
to the orb, who has selflessly warmed him with
eyes blinking from heaven to earth
and has felt the gentle ripples of tares and the whir
of transient birds gliding, in jovial mood, in the air.
The orb declaims a lovely poem, while endless sky
guesses if it should please his aged mind and a pen adhering
to a note pad. A man, with a pen in the pocket of his suit
of yesterday and today, that will
boredom less enjoy the evening graces whilst she’s away.
Categories:
declaims, life, love, nature, passion,
Form: Narrative
Not everything defines clarity and purpose,
Things can at times equal no explanation.
The spirit is incandescent with different moods,
An actor acts,an artist paints while a poet declaims.
To float on through but only at my own behest,
The outcome of my journey time knows best.
No one was born bad no soul by choice unwise,
On the battlefield in the theater of life our honor we
compromise.
I ask you what shall i do?
A silence that prevails i know not too.
Love and peace which of both will be mine?
To savor an understanding of life perhaps in
the signature of time.
Categories:
declaims, love, peace, philosophy, life,
Form: Verse