Spiders kept weaving their webs,
Dust knocking on closed windows,
Within closed books and cupboards,
Coolness settled in.
Among the stacks of dozens of books,
Mosquitoes turned like ascetics,
Taking residence in the classroom's walls,
As the clock on the wall continued ticking.
At last, I embraced transformation,
A revolution was imperative,
For women's existence,
In the evolving fabric of society,
And for the ultimate triumph -
Where on the streets,
The rights of the people
Won't be trampled,
The dignity of women
Won't be bartered,
No one will inquire
About anyone's caste or creed,
All will be equal and deserving,
Dust will be swept off the books
Then new volumes will be scripted,
Where women
Will chart the course of new epochs and reforms.
A lake is slumbering beneath a halcyon sky,
This land has no daybreak nor blackness vie.
Angst crusts float on their substrate surface,
Able and pallid, it defends an idyllic space.
Gray granite emerges from the dreary edge,
A half-light day adorns a barren field hedge.
The aimless times seem to last forever,
I am that bright poor fisherman together.
My boat and I sailed hastily over the lake,
Viewing the tones flow as if for the path's sake
I soothed and spread shade over the water,
A mild wave from the sea hauled it over.
When others stare at me, I get annoyed,
A stage of the ethereal, hazy sky was poised.
I shift my focus to the rocks around me,
You're defined like a rising sun's beauty.
My fragility and hunger are pelted by the tide,
Working very hard but never finding a stride.
Shine often skims over the placid water,
A light may be noted moving like a marauder.
Yet, there's no sun or hours, so the sky is murky,
I am that angler whose heart is still squirmy.
Written: August 07, 2022
Âges roam around their
end and the place of death
is fix and lurking.
A Brian Strand July 24 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Parallel epochs
the spaces between nowhere
cosmic conjunctions
epochs drenched in pallets
of yellow silhouettes,
spanning lifetimes of
forever I love you’s-
seasons stretched in
shades of crimson secrets,
measuring time only
with cups of hope-
seconds and minutes
saturated in forgiveness,
cadence of memoirs
released in adoring armor...
for I am but a perpetual ghost,
raptured inside what you love most-
freedom rests in thoughts of our decree...
eventide ascends for love's guarantee.
Original contest: 2019 Poetry Marathon Mile 14
Contest judged: 2/1/2019
For the contest: NA re-run Poetry Contest
Sponsor: John Hamilton
Date Written: July 21, 2018
Epochs of womanhood
1 VIRGIN
With malar flushes,
Causelessly she blushes,
In solitude, to herself she smiles,
While walking, aimlessly she tarries.
With a startled look,
Whom does she seek?
2 YOUTH
Her blue eyes,
Reminiscent of skies,
Her golden hair seem,
Akin to a bright solar beam,
Her limbs tender,
Her waist slender.
Nature bares the Truth
Of full-blown-flower of Youth!
3 MOTHERHOOD
Her grown up face,
Bears a thoughtful grace.
Her warm bosom,
Awaits to welcome,
A wanted guest,
On her laps to rest,
Restless, though happy she seems,
As her heart broods fairy dreams.
Her speech sweeter from the lapse of years-
With a wife's love, and a mother's fears!
4 MENOPAUSE
Rapturous youth and tranquil prime,
Withered with a weird dream!
Her gray hair and lusterless skin,
Fading from her eyes a resplendent shine,
Her flabby shriveled breast,
She walks with waddling and antalgic gait.
Alas! It's dusk of her womanhood,
It's menopause! A hush in solitude!!
Dr.Hemant Vinze
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