"Etched in stone- names of honored souls-
remembering their roles and goals."
_by Poet
Oh, cemetery- at your rusted gate,
I stand before it for a while and wait
to gather thoughts of those I know are here-
both family and friends, to me, so dear
beneath the velvet blanket of spring grass,
embraced forever from their earthly pass;
with monuments above etched with a name
and span of life on Earth, we can acclaim.
The cemetery grants me space to think
of my connections- how they interlink
with kin and classmates resting here right now-
and hope they feel I'm missing them somehow.
I walk in slowly, shut the gate behind-
to visit those where I feel love enshrined.
Together we are one, the dust isn’t
anything but an obstacle.
Help me see the light, lead me away
from darkness. My heart is with you.
Souls merged in connection for the sake
of serenity. Please.. please.. please…
Mercy me… provide the peace I cannot
bare.
I am with you, my entity integrated for a
caused called interlink. Your mind wants
to be free but you can’t let go.
I can’t let go…
Is there something in the water or air
that's spreading stupidity everywhere?
Children aren't learning their lessons in school,
vying to be the latest TikTok fool.
As a whole, society's devolving:
a worldwide problem, in need of solving.
It seems everyone is glued to their phones:
no individualism; we're mere clones.
The internet has morphed into a cage,
where stifled minds stagnate and disengage.
Hate and bigotry have gained a platform:
outrageous behavior is now the norm.
We're losing our ability to think
for it's much easier to interlink.
We're banning books, and we're ok with that:
letting the net filter what we look at.
If stupidity's something we can't fix:
try throwing common sense into the mix.
There is something wrong with people today:
AI does their thinking; what can I say?
Memory Disturbances
Written: by Miracle Man
6/1/2024
It’s a very sad day,
when memory starts to fade.
We live feeling helpless,
to change or persuade.
It’s harder on the one,
who must watch it occur.
One insists nothing’s wrong,
but both lives become a blur.
Most days they disagree,
about trivial things.
Just struggling along,
absorbing life’s new dings.
Most all days resemble,
the day that just passed.
One recalls good times,
from years both amassed.
Each place the two go,
they’re always pushed for time.
And one doesn’t grasp,
the meaning of bedtime.
The most debilitating loss,
is the ability to think.
When dementia claims one,
minds no more interlink.
Every conversation now,
needs in depth explaining.
It’s certain to now make,
two lives more constraining.
In the mirror is a galaxy,
It's white and black and blue.
It gives to me an alloquy,
Then relocates in my shoe
The mouth of God is open
Her words are soft but firm
A web of parallels unbroken
A new knot at every turn
A day of true connection
A night of sweet decay
I pray for loss of circumspection
I dip my hands into the clay
I do not know for certain
But I cannot not believe
Let me pull back the darkened curtain
Let me reconnect with Eve
Thought For Today
Miracle Man
4/6/2023
Perhaps the best poem I may ever write,
lies dormant in time as a mere drop of ink.
Thoughts often appear, but then quickly take flight,
many times unworthy thoughts don’t interlink.
And fallen apart from the deck of friend
Smiling face rung the bell of pure gladness
He would come to enjoy time with our band
No hatred theme he passed except calmness
Always he said let’s do something jointly
For that, he spent as our wish to eat-drink
He called meeting for friendship unity
No headship rule he showed but interlink
For helping friends he offered himself full
Nothing in return he sought for himself
But today we’ve everything in our soul
Except the friend Masud the king of help
Summer to spring comes and goes thoroughly
Your sheer friendship none can forget truly
©Mahtab Bangalee
March 30, 2023
Only Harry
Could find “Love in The Kitchen Sink”
I love the way he looks at the world
and the things he makes me think
A single sip is not satisfactory
I recommend a big drink
Not “A One Hit Wonder”
All his messages interlink
“The Road Is Long”
“Traveling From The Fields of Grief”
His thoughts offer comfort
a path to relief.
His is a “Significant Pen”
That writes “Naked Words”
He travels his own way
Not one prone to follow herds
Whether “Whispering Ferns”
Or “A Little Girl Once Lost”
He weighs his words carefully
Aware of their cost
One “Waits Upon The Horizon”
For “A Magical Spring”
Make No Mistake
That isn’t a small thing
“There Is A Place”
Where “A House Divided falls”
He can “Colour Me Lilac”
As I’m absorbed into walls
“The Blue And The Grey”
The “Lady Down The Lane”
I learn about humanity
As he reveals their pain
A “Voice In The Wilderness”
Who’s “Coming Of Age”
He will answer “A Worthy Question”
With the words on his page
Dedicated to Harry Horseman.
Written using titles from some of his poems.
Black hairy beauty
White geese offer dry feathers
I'm wanderer breeze
Flying kites in empty breath
No one licks the wide web net
22.06.2020 Chattgram
There was exposed the mind of expression
Rain of May came to the nib of writing pen
No sorrow there was in the drop of the summer sky
No happiness in the ecstasy of peacock dance pie
Yet there was the poetic word, interlink of thought
There were you and unspoken dream in soulful dot
True or false, pleasure or pain never dyed me with you
But naturally, I'm entangled with glad and grief review
27.05.2020 Chattogram
Life is indecisive stage answers to the all kind of questions
Life, where performer is answer sheet
Poetic words are natural crystal mirror
where poet finds out himself spontaneously
Poetic expression is thoughtful interlink of knowing self
I never wanted you but poetic life;
because falsehood is eternally beautiful
The lie is mighty invisible;
visible is always weaker than invisible
No prayer there is in my pen;
fears make me not pious but repentant of opportunity
Who will forgive me I do not know
but if I embezzle the rights of invisibility
please pardon otherwise punish...
Not poetry this is but verbose aristocracy
where truth and falsehood is substitute beauty
19.05.2020 Chattogram
The Marshutka travels down
the jarring road, and
just as in
life, we are unsure
of the hurdles we will
encounter
along
our
winding
journey.
The torn and
chalky seat carries each
of you,
And you are with me,
Just as was
intended, by a divine intervention,
for our blessed
meeting.
Your kindness needs no
words because I can see it in your
eyes,
beneath the veil that
covers the raw you, the one that
cries,
Scripted within
your
iris,
I follow your narrative, with
every creasing blink,
And through passing
looks
our living stories
interlink.
In those speckled brown
pools, I see your soul,
I see
your past and
the worries you hold, passing windows
of cobalt blue
I feel the truth that lives
in you,
and
in apertures of forest green,
I see the things that you
have seen.
Your dandelion clocks,
show where you
went astray,
and where the wind of life blew your
seeds away,
And on this everlasting journey,
the two of us sit opposite one another
on this rickety marshutka,
Separated by the language we speak yet
found in our own translation.
I have no thoughts of a mirror
must allow my brain to think
to give it purpose to write a poem
thoughts and mind must interlink
To find reason or cause
for every reflection, I have seen
from a skin of pink to a skin of gray
and the changes in between
I know there will be those
who'll write a metaphor or two
a philosophical take on the theme
from illusions, their mirror reflects so true
I've never thought or dreamed of mirrors
only reflections on a lake
where I sit to write this poem
and share my final take
9/21/17 contest Mirror Mirror
Reading in bed, she has a drink, and the ripple widens.
A drop falls in the kitchen sink, and the ripple widens.
Supported, a little girl in the pool floats in his arms,
blowing bubbles as her fears shrink, and the ripple widens.
Adults survive the rain, clutching dark umbrellas, as tiny
shoes trounce puddles in pink, and the ripple widens.
His son begs him to release the bleeding gills to the pond.
He unhooks the chain stringer link, and the ripple widens.
Her mother taught her how to skim a flat stone on water,
as soft nets of light interlink, and the ripple widens.
A whale bursts through the glass, her stature massive. She hangs, then/
smashes the ceiling of the sea as she sinks, and the ripple widens./
While readers roam the world looking for a poem to read,
the author dips his pen in the ink, and the ripple widens.
8/29/2017
Life’s one and only guarantee
is one of Death for you and me,
no other promise can it make
however long your Life may take.
In certainty we can be sure
that Death will be the final cure,
for nothing we can ever do
will change the end for me and you.
Is Life or Death the spirit’s home,
are both just places that we roam,
and are these places where we dwell
both shared again by Heaven and Hell.
If all dimensions interlink
maybe mankind should stop and think,
for Life and Death and Heaven and Hell
may form eternity as well.
Life’s one and only guarantee
is one of Death for you and me,
but Death may hold a promise too
depending what you choose to do....
Ivor G Davies
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