Oft resting under wooded trees
Roams she, hides head behind bent knees,
Adjusts her scant bosom rag, tries
To foil peering moon’s prying eyes.
___________________________
Translation (quatrain) | 30.08.2025 | woman, moon
Note: Here is a verse (in Upajati meter) from Bhartrihari’s Shringaara Shatakam (hundred verses on love and romance). A woman is separated from her husband and roams looking for him, hiding in shadows of woods, adjusting her meagre bosom cloth, sparing it as if from peering moon’s prying eyes. Here is the transliteration of the Sanskrit verse:
Vishramya vishramya vana-drumaanaam
Chaayaasu tanvi vichachaar kaachit |
Stana-uttareeyena karot dhrtena
Nivaarayanti shashinah mayookhaan || 56 ||
Lotta would look cute in a box of crackers, his grandmother said.
She would look sassy in a roll of aluminum foil, said Uncle Ned.
Lotta’s assignment at school was to fashion a dress from the kitchen.
Unique, made of items that are usually discarded, her mother was ’n.
They were talking about the girl who dated their grandson Grips.
She ended up wearing a dress made of bags of potato chips.
Grandma had helped her design it, and frankly she looked rather cool.
This dress took the top prize that was given for this category in school.
In my left armpit a big boll
That made me with anger boil…
Then, nurse began to water boil.
“Please, don’t touch it now: let it boil…”
“But not like breakfast tea I boil!”
I’d prayed fluid would spill on the soil
And had begun to like snakes coil
But her next move, I on that soil,
With the planned help of a sir Doyle
Who made steadying me his toil…
Several attempts to escape foil…
Treating a boil could a day spoil;
Two friends in arguments embroil.
A serene evening
with a gentle star-filled sky,
ruined by your lie.
tea seed sport
wick fry
orange can loop
Mr Tin Foil
He’s a tin foil hat type of guy
Do you know of those?
They wear tin foil hats
To stop the authorities
From reading their brain waves
His report says he is a higher thinker
Or some such turds and that imbeciles
Think he’s insane due
To their lack of understanding
He’s a real fricking lunatic hahahaha
Shiny lizard climbing up my wall
attached with nail, without pain
stoic and unyielding
glowing so happily
excites me today
entertaining,
lizard shape
foiled
tin
On pensive planes of wraith-like existence,
Are stoic shadows feigning affection;
Crimson lips of withering consistence,
Have lost their craze for craving confection.
Tear-filling prisms tilling a rueing sphere,
Pathos prowling, pity's wild and roaming;
Reminisce wind-blown is tumbleweed drear,
Bathos like bramble bur clings in gloaming.
Tin foil hearts' echo sad droning down-beat,
Rose petal ballet two rust figurines;
Today's gray sleet does douse yesteryears' heat,
Apathy's ennui directing the scenes...
Love once aflare in fanfare marigold,
Lies now a wizened weed, dried and stone cold.
Susan Ashley
November 2, 2017
You are my favorite conspiracy
My curious heart wonders
what future secrets you have to tell
When I walk by,
your friends all whisper:
Hush, hush ... here comes her baby!
Incubated thoughts nine months in the making,
infatuated womb of maybe on the swell
You had a shy delivery ... pregnant desires, no faking
It is real, this love you feel —
every dream you had about me told you so
At a rendezvous designation,
delivered by a scented missive,
Fate was confirmed by the distant ringing of a church bell
We sat together holding hands,
with our backs against the wishing well
Intense ruminating eyes
exchanged conspiracies of the heart
You removed my tin foil hat of shiny yearning,
and told me that
hiding in plain view was the perfect disguise
When it comes to revealing whom you’re in love with,
don’t be afraid, you said:
Come embrace your tin foil destiny
Sitting at the back of my mind, on the top shelf,
just waiting ... waiting
for the unveiling
of my illuminated aluminum destiny
Discovery of your liquid elixir of love
is the best heartsick medicine remedy
A perfect prescription
for loneliness plots getting tin foiled
NERO’S FOIL
There is a light reflected in my lover’s eyes,
it is the candle that bounces with my every
breath, we are so close.
I stare at the flame and it becomes the fire
that razed Rome and I am Nero with my
violin only I can’t play the violin, it dangles
From my hand like a useless appendage
and the city will burn unaccompanied.
I breathe to watch the flames dance.
Then one strong gust and the light is out
And I am left to fumble my way through
the darkness to find her heart once more.
Sweet anticipation, your heart
in my hand,
Robed in shiny bits of blue,
Creamy milk and ignorance,
Promises, poetic and new.
Heavenly cocoa whispers,
Enigma wrapped in a mystery.
Dreams and hopes and
innocence,
To taste and share and see.
A smile, a kiss...heartfelt
embrace,
Moments meant to last.
Yet sometimes a moment is
nothing more,
Once it's gone and passed.
Lies, deceit and bittersweet,
One thing leads to ten.
What once was love and
chocolate,
That never should have been.
All the prose and sentiment,
Belief in love that's loyal,
Torn, tattered, crumpled up,
Like that little piece of blue tin
foil.
Long forgiven but never
forgotten,
Long since trashed and gone.
The love and chocolate,
memories,
Of promises gone wrong.
She sits at home alone
Quietly sinking in her comfort zone.
Loneliness feeds her soul.
The emptiness takes a toll.
No other way to go.
She heads to the corner store.
A quick relief to fill that void
Her love, lies in a piece of foil.
Just another hit, to face the day.
Takes her to that, private getaway.
Brings her to higher heights
No transportation needed, to take
This flight.
Where she goes, nobody knows,
She finds elated peace,
to devine to Define.
Trapped in a cruel body, thats just
Doing time.
Embodiment of her being, left behind
Slowly descending back to her destination.
Reality is not, her intention.
Comes back home, sitting alone,
The door slowly opens.
"Honey im home"
A weakness wound its wicked way inside
where thoughts of “us”, not love, do dwell and swell,
and formed a nest of twigs to stay the tide
yet cresting waves of righteousness rebelled.
“Stray not,” he said " for look on how I writhe."
Of fire formed made thane to only He.
Yet, man, of mud and clay did breach my pride
for Love of Thee, caste out the likes of me.
Now, Lucifer’s red flame so bright, burns night,
a warning scent to frailer souls, “Don’t fall.”
For even stars misstep, disgrace, pride’s plight,
let his torment be your clarion call.
In light, act right, rise high in good spirit
and say “God, the devil made me do it.”
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