And one more toy she gave to her cry-child,
Who, not a look and wailed ever more still
To grow restless, disconsolate, more riled,
But as moms do, she knew well what was ill,
Maya— a cosmic ploy, men to illude,
That spreads in mortal’s path a pile of toys,
And hopes, man stays wise, virtuous and good,
That, he learns to ferret out fragile joys.
Irony is: her love we fail to see,
As light transcends darkness, truth gets entwined
In clouds of ignorance, just as in sea
Water gets one with waves, and man purblind
Of truth. Only when all ceilings you tame,
You find, ceiling and floor are one and same.
_________________________________________
Sonnets | 07.01.2012, recast July 2023|
Entertained by flickers on a screen, cosseted between giants. Suited with slicked-back raven hair, snow-white starched shirt, an innocent tie.
Mother smiles at his sky-blue eyes. Father pats his shoulder, “Good show!”
The nightingale, high in spirits. The tanager beyond the street light.
Chill of the night air, the bravado of a moon flower…
A sudden violent shaking, tremors as he morphs into an orphan, and forever remembers the words shooting at him, whispered in the dark.
borne in shadows
huge fortune, fortuneless child —
criminals will pay
cave of bats sets his destiny
clings to fair tights and blond hair
Like all grown up boys, Bruce Wayne and his secret identity are drawn to the sweetness and tartness of plums. The one meows, enticing him with skin tight glances. But his mother’s eyes are in the courageous and innocent shade of sunshiny hair — he must rescue her; marry her? He has to release her to the day, for he must continually ferret out those who live under the lamplight.
6/22/2019
I'm not looking for answers:
answers are not hard to find.
I tend to trip over them all the time!
Suspiciously, they seem to overlap:
thus, it's difficult to tell them apart.
I prefer hunting questions:
they're harder to ferret out.
Questions are never found lying around,
for they are probing answers, all the time,
making deceptive answers quite nervous.
Questions are a treasure hunt,
searching for that perfect one.
If you believe some answers, that's okay,
I suppose that one or two might be true,
answers are consistent and well-crafted.
Yet when instructed to stick
to the question asked, few do!
Can it be that questions are too precise,
and therefore no answer's a perfect fit?
Or, is it that go-to answers can't stretch?
When you start asking questions,
question, everything you're told!
The day the questions stopped,
Was the day the earth began to die,
Which should not have been a surprise even to a fly.
With no questions designed to ferret out the lies,
Or challenge the wise.
No one to bring sense to discussions about dollars and cents,
And no more stating the obvious to the oblivious.
No words to bring to halt those who are at fault.
Nothing for the ears of those crying out for a way out.
Or anybody to raise a red flag for those in charge of the company flag.
Even with lives at stake, a question will no longer be raised or written in a rag.
No questions anymore at the border, to deter a would-be robber.
A suggestion of a prize not enough to raise even one question.
Nothing to change the direction of those seeking re-election.
Maybe we will have to wait til the climate is right,
For the next question to come to light.
I see no need to help you with a tip,
Since it will likely be coming from your own lips.
''What is this muck I am standing in, that is now up to my hips".
Like a madwomen
Hibernation is key
When the streets are cold and lonely
And I lye awake in solitude
Battling the disease of my mind
And the ever present thoughts
that I am tainted and unlovable
So I barricade myself from life
And ferret out the constant chatter
In my brain
And I cry every morning
For the sun to return again
And peace to bring a smile
To my lonely heart
if winter doesn't break me
Nothing can
For the cold is insanity
That bites bitterly
At simple souls like me.
THE GRIZZLY ATTACK
Relentlessly grizzlies search
Bloody skin
Ferret out each secret fear
Victoria Anderson-Throop
2013
A green smoke was rising
to ferret out
the elusive pain
without body.
I went in search of
fidgety words
to patch up the conflicts
of flesh.
Bold as Passiflora,
Crucifixion was complete.
Today a gift of obeyance
will arrive.
It was a fake.
The eyes on the hump.
Camel has to cross
a steep desert.
Satish Verma
Bear it all and hold it in
Show us how a man can grin
Fish for something you can say
To make this go away
Badger me with joking lies
Let people think it’s no surprise
Ferret out with eagle eyes
The ones who see
Through your disguise
To find a soul who cries
Seal their faith with one slow wink
Then pour another drink
(Worknotes)
This is another jab at women's liberation
The female of all the species mentioned
rules
The male lives within them
Owls and angels,angel owls
dressed in black with masks and cowls
dark the nightly guests sorrounding
fearful journeys most astounding
Talons,wings and feathered flights
fear the coming of the night
Put on purpose, find a reason
to escape the thrilling season
Black October into winter
through the portal do not enter
Burn the banner, spill the potion
ferret out the slightest notion
That the darker side is calling
you will find the fear appalling
Hidden in the Masquerade
silent screams the others made
Dont be taken by surprise
owls and angels in disquise.