The calendar showed January 1899,
there were only a few hours of real daylight
He set out in his poor man's boat, early dawn
Snow and ice did not melt until mid-May
The cold bit his face and hands,
he had to try to obtain some food on the table
All they had was flatbread,
oats and water porridge
A sudden storm forced him to seek shelter
He had to be master of his own destiny
Strong east wind
prevented him from going ashore
The best possibility was to anchor
in a cove sheltered from the wind
Grandfather's killick saved him
from drowning that day
a cold fine mist drips
with east wind saturating all....
bed of zinnias pop
Here comes the North Wind
Blowing the mountain of bones
Suddenly bones moving like whirlwind
Bone to bone connected its parts
To form a human skeleton standing
Throng of them standing in front of the Prophet
Standing, lifeless skeleton many of them
Came the voice in heaven saying
Can these bones live or not
The Prophet says, come and say my Lord
Then came the East Wind bringing sinews
Covering the bones with muscles all parts
Another wind bringing skins, hairs, eyeballs
Others came bringing mouth, nose and ears
Covering all the body parts to form human flesh
Standing, still lifeless in front of the Prophet
Came the last wind giving life on human flesh
The eyes began to roll, the mouth began to speak
Words of praises reverberating the place
Coming from the life of human flesh now
The Prophet is astonish the miracles that happen
In front of him are not the bones of the Church of the Dead
They are now living bones of the Church of the Living.
They are now praising the Lord day and night.
Bit sunshine squinter
At end of winter.
gather light splinter.
Before long they were
Engaged in sweet myrrh.
Watched it disappear
Never hearing fear.
Fall in love Pleasure
Seasons fruits treasure
Land reclaimed leisure
Patient roster Bows
Hungry Cat's meow
A faint east wind moaned
Early Spring Postponed.
How slight
The petal of
A poppy,flowering-
So much like us,beautiful,yet
Fragile
Hurry
Takes its toll as
In our daily stroll,we
From deepest ruts of blind alleys
Quicken
Beauty
free from above
embedded in our heart-
His loving-kindness ..ready to
impart
The warmth
Of love's invite
Encompassed my desire,
In two soft whispered words of love,
Be mine !
Eyes closed
As lips caressed,
Mouths joined,impassioned
Tongues explore,in our love's embrace,
Time-framed
My love
Beguiled me,with
Soft sensuous lips,sleek
Long thighs with rounded hips,twinned heart's
Enlaced
Long days
Of August sun
Where nature blinks and shrinks
The dying grass,yellowed in sleep-
Held fast
Night chills
the aging bones-
blowing on the east wind
flurries fine and dry settle on
new graves.
These be
the keys to life,
faith,hope and agape,
love,the greatest gift of all three-
to thee !
Desire
welled within-
words became a promise
so sublime,to love now and for
all time.
We had
met and conversed,
a rapport on first sight-
a chance meeting to a life's time
delight
The North wind blew, ominous, nights now longer,
testing resolve, deepening dread, the fear of
darkness stalking, time to distil impulses …
lighting lamp of love.
The East wind blew, promising warmth of sol’s touch,
proximity to the source enlivening
heart, thus bringing boons of grace, that gratitude …
lights the lamp of love.
The South wind blew, caused on soul choosing to shift,
resting thought forms, magnetism stirring within,
kundalini dissolving karma, that we …
light the lamp of love.
The West wind blew, last life breath, teleporting
presence from earth to heaven, making soul’s eye
synced with divine consciousness magically …
lighting lamp of love.
Night chills
the aging bones-
blowing on the east wind
flurries fine and dry settle on
new graves.
Anaemia
Who cares for her once glorious dreams
Utopia is the new reality
Dopamine-starved citizens gaze forlornly
As blood feverishly flows out
From her gaping wounds
Siamese twins of hunger and anger
Starving her of peace and progress
In a land of high Testosterone
Security gone AWOL
Citizens on their own
Slowly but steadily
Life ebbs out
Deprived of nutrients and water
Homeland turned fiefdom by renegades
Despising folks, they make foes
Pious laughter loosens frown
of frail freedom
Blood-sapping East wind
Turns grasslands into deserts
Bruised and beaten by the day
Body and soul in dread of dawn
Conquer battlefields of the mind
With riots of laughter
This Mephistophelian theatre
With broken social ligaments and
Ruptured moral tendons
Will one day get a transfusion of a new life
Or die slowly and solemnly
of Anaemia
First time they met, his heart was broken
For, her heart was already taken
But she looked at him with real regret
His sweet smile, she couldn't forget
He looked at her like his bliss of rapture
A golden heart that he should capture
For the shimmer of her gleaming glow
Gave light for his east wind to blow
How she wished that he was from the start
The one man whom she pledged her heart
She hoped that one day, she will be free
To sail her heart across the sea
They both sensed that they felt the same
Their morning called for each other's name
He was her wish and she was his dream
Their love did flow like gust of stream
In years, he waited for a chance
So, with the wind, he dared to dance
And, when she broke the bind of her shackle
It's like he'd found his miracle
He made his mind and pounced his heart
He's sure he loved her from the start
And, with the bound of a true love spell
Through years, they loved each other well
May 10, 2023
A Brian Strand Premiere No 1216 Poetry Contest
Sponsored By: Brian Strand
brisk east wind
white flurries blown....
pear trees end stage blooms
remember a kite rises against the wind not with it..a good day to fly a kite???
Dot to dot they join,
Line to line the word forms,
A word many have craved,
A word that made its abode with some,
A word that scarcely stayed with some,
This word was given to some and it made them,
This word was given to some but marred them,
A word that fragmented indomitable nations,
A word some sought with peaceful protests,
A word some sought for with arms and ammunition,
Nations' founding fathers were martyred for it,
A man was incarcerated for a score and seven years because he journeyed its road for his nation,
A word that has opened its
door to some only for a short season,
A word that I earnestly seek in its entirety,
Freedom is a bird I want to eternally take flight with,
Let it come to me like the east wind,
Let it take its seat in my chamber,
Hold hands with me in my sojourn,
Until I go through dawn's final door.
December 16, 2022.
Steps on mud, a stalking thread,
Red strings wind through dying groves
Where life needs time, to find footing,
Red strings halt hands in greed which hold
The axe of ignorance, the axe which bleeds
A people in flight from homes bulldozed
For one brute mine more, to feed empire
Which jangles keys, which confines in loaned
Dependence made, our trough withheld
By bloated old speculators whose cold
Lies obscure serfdom; worded as freedom,
And the east wind is chided,
For fetishism, advert slogans uphold
Impotence among them who create,
They are given consumerist mirrors,
As leeches of mankind are weighed in gold;
And as burns away our way of life,
All bonds formed in toil shared,
The market-canker births hedonism
The imperial axe bloodies us, brothers of old
But hold tight onto the strong strands
Of crimson in the heartlands,
Seize imagination, seize thought
Beyond nettle laden garlands
And thorn crown of parlay,
Rip with the iron of hardship
All parasites, them whose is the whip,
Can’t be pleaded with, can’t be controlled.
Clouds in the sky reveal their intention
Their color is always a dead giveaway,
There is no known effective intervention.
You know what’s coming if they are gray,
Gathered in a group for a sky convention.
If they are white and fluffy like cotton
We do not give them a second thought
They’ll soon pass over, entirely forgotten
If a pleasant east wind they have caught
I’ve thought, for a cloud, this is so rotten.
Written October 18, 2022
East wind
whips trees
storm coming
I am not a poet
Nor an author
But I look at the sky
I forecast the weather
Dark days are ahead, friends
It is going to rain
Look at the cloudy sky
It tells of weeks of coming pain
No, years rather
For the east wind is on us
A bullet for you, brother
Every fine home shall rust
So be good, reader
There is no excuse in war
It hears from no one
Neither looks at tears
Related Poems