We drained rivers and raised the tide
Why panic? Just run and hide
With pained shivers and ragged pride
Cry Havoc! The sun has died
OF DRIED AND TIRED SEEDS
Having failed
To turn
Our vineyard
Into a graveyard
Of raisins in sun,
They now
Seek to pluck away,
Ripe black plums
To grave the soil
With wrinkled,
Laden prunes:-
(Guess
they
failed
the
watermeleon
lesson):
Earthly green;
Blood-red flesh;
Multiple black seeds:-
Indeed, we are
Children of
The Father
Of the sun
And the Son:
Fertilized
And energized
By the
Cosmic spirit–
Resurrecting
Generations
Of dried
And tried seeds–
Germinating
Liberated
Blooming
Freedom flowers
In the sun:
Bouqueting
Thanks
To the
Son:-
OF DRIED AND TIRED SEEDS
Having failed
To turn
Our vineyard
Into a graveyard
Of raisins in sun,
They now
Seek to pluck away,
Ripe black plums
To grave the soil
With wrinkled,
Laden prunes:-
(Guess
they
failed
the
watermeleon
lesson):
Earthly green;
Blood-red flesh;
Multiple black seeds:-
Indeed, we are
Children of
The Father
Of the sun
And the Son:
Fertilized
And energized
By the
Cosmic spirit–
Resurrecting
Generations
Of dried
And tried seeds–
Germinating
Liberated
Blooming
Freedom flowers
In the sun:
Bouqueting
Thanks
To the
Son:-
A fountain of tears, at once, was dried
when father explained. (At least he tried.)
He thumped me upside my head,
and this is what he kindly said:
When Riding Hood is seen
reading a magazine,
and Goldilocks is lounging there,
having dyed her golden hair;
when you find Gretal wasn't lost,
that you were double-crossed,
and Santa Claus is shamelessly corrupt,
that's a sign you're growing up.
spine not straight
had to wait
for fertiliser from miser
was it that expansionism
took lubricating oil
from loamy soil ?
arms to be palms
legs walking eggs
buckled, I shovel
___________________
Allpoetry Contest Honorable Winner
April 26
Prompt : " In the month of harvest.. I still feel half grown.."
on papers of divorce after decades of union
just a cheap biro not even a cherished fountain pen
no more tears no more drama and the well is dried up
a reservoir of joy and the agony of separation
consigned to memories and pain of suffering
acceptance of impermanence and closure of delusion
the hope of liberation and new beginnings is still nascent
but the fear of the future recedes into a new dawn
mutates into concern and care for what is and will be
curiosity flickers from scented candles and incense
her perfume is fading and the wedding band has come off
as the vows of togetherness remain a shadow of promise
there is a rainbow of spiritual prisms faith and longing
for growth change understanding and intimate love
some sort of anticipation while staying in the moment
and deep emotions cannot change with the blink of an eye
they will have to live together until the house has been sold
are both still deeply in love while God had other plans
they wish to remain friends with the only benefit
of not destroying what has been a miraculous journey
from start to now inevitable finish and dried ink will fade
P - Peace can come from enjoying this sweet fruit.
L - Love is in every firm and juicy bite.
U - Understanding we can eat fresh, dried, jam or as brandy to enjoy.
M - Mercy me, how fun can a plum be in any form.
When inspiration comes, it spreads its wings,
Then off I’ll fly, as a bird that sings.
I’ll roam through this world, soaring high and free,
Unable to sit still, my spirit will flee.
The future will discern black from white,
So I kept stirring my words into light.
What use are golden words if lost in vain,
When even your partner cannot explain?
Like a gloomy autumn cloud, heavy and gray,
My verses feel tangled, all faded away.
Dipped in clear water, like sheep at the stream,
I’ll dry them like fish on this page, it would seem.
If my thoughts reach no reader, what a disgrace,
I’d be a fool left behind in this race.
Let the dust settle, let them gather in piles,
For dried fish will never spoil, even in trials.
A good thought’s worth never will fade from the view,
Words spoken with care will always ring true.
If you savor the words, like dried fish in hand,
The taste of those phrases will forever withstand!
grass is all but crisp
sun's rays have taken life
as we pray for rain
Like a dried-up fountain, I sip from my shadows,
Dusty memories, like forgotten books on shelves of dreams,
I swallow my existence, like a sea of silence,
And let it flow, spread, dissolve into verses.
I would like to open my heart, to sprinkle my blood
On the white paper, to write with the venom of melancholy
And to see how each word becomes a stiletto for me,
Deeply embedded in the flesh of readers, in the flesh of the world.
I need life to feed my death,
To feel how each breath becomes a verse,
How each heartbeat becomes a rhythm,
An echo of ancestral sadness,
And how my soul transforms
Into a river of murky light,
Flowing between rocks of pain, through valleys of longing.
Even if it kills me, I will scatter into words,
Like a rain of shooting stars,
Like a wind that whispers the forgotten names of ancient gods.
I need it!
Even if it kills me,
To feel how each letter absorbs my life,
How each sentence feeds my death,
And to know that I have lived, that I have existed,
In an ocean of words, in a universe of sadness.
I need it!
Even if it kills me.
Even if it kills me!
Something struck me
I saw bunch of dried roses
Underneath your bed.
so ancient dried figs
more than three thousands years old
old clay pottery
fresh flower bouquet
turned upside down and sun-dried
makes great centerpiece
I can feel my body cooking
It's drying out beneath the sun
A price to pay for such a tan
Skin cancer touches everyone
A long line of waters
Deep in hearts of bathers
A lifeline of growth
Weep of salvation brought forth
Waters of life over a mile
Outrunning a thousand stile
Gifts of life in piles
Surmounting torments of viles
Dreams on waters slate
Streams of sages proliferate
Sun beam of neon flickers
Teeming waters on pickers
Wishers with panoramic views
Dreamer of waters purviews
Like well-wishers throwing coins over heels
Eye-openers on picker wheels
A river full of life
A river lull of strife
Outpouring a thousand mile
Outscoring a thousand smile
On this river of hope
A bigger dream to scope
A kaleidescope of scenery
Grandeur over tapestry
One day the said river dried
No one ever wondered and belied
Gold in pieces on the ground mounted
In the hearts of gold sprouted
Euphrates...
A river
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