By my red tiled house stands a mango tree
Beneath it I cherish my treasured memories
Where cows merrily roam and cattle graze
As morning sky scintillates in marigold rays
Face of innocent days I spent in tiny village
Amid rice fields gracing serene landscapes
Watching crops grow from seeds to harvests
Playing game of cricket and idling in silliness
From dawn till dusk, ambling with friends
Venturing out coyly, exploring night’s secrets
Walking dusty roads holding kerosine lamps
Strolling like silhouettes on dark river banks
Floating young emotions on giggling streams
Stealing kiss of love, choreographing dreams
As we told stories spinning moonlit wizardry
Listening to wilderness strumming wild music
By my red tiled house, under the mango tree
Where eternally lie my childhood memories
January 13, 2021
Placed 1st: Your choice (44) contest by Brian Strand
Placed 5th: Good old days contest by Mystic Rose Rose
Categories:
kerosine, memory, youth,
Form: Verse
The lantern saga.
My friend and I were gorgeous; it was a visit to my would-be in-law’s house.
My mocked decency and decorum were high,my gaiety and impressario at peak.
My love got us seat in a room prepared for our visit,a kerosine lantern lit our stay.
‘‘ Shall I bring the food ?’’, she quested ; ‘‘ I don’t know of my friend,as for me I
will not eat.’’, I replied shyly but sharply. ‘‘ Eat even if only small,I needn’t ask your
friend.’’ She replied. So the table was set and the eating commenced.
As we were eating air extinguished the lantern; I noticed my fiancee take the lantern
to relight,then I quickly moved closer to my friend and whispered; ‘‘when the light
went off I was seriously rushing the food like pig’’. ‘‘You don’t have to, I prepared
all for your visit, I can still add more if you so wished’’,replied my fiancee. What a
hell ! I felt like the ground should quake and swallow me up. He returned with the
burning lantern.
Contest : Angel of The odd.
Sponsor : Craig Cornish.
Date : 15/2/14.
Categories:
kerosine, confusion,
Form: Prose Poetry
Scared the Jesus from himself
Scared the demons out of hell
You blame the world
Every time you failed
Just ignore me
sweep the ash under the rug
After you burn me
You blame everyone else so well
As far as I can tell
You put the kerosine on yourself
Categories:
kerosine, fear,
Form: Ballad
broken down deeper than a trench,
torn and ripped from feeling,
numb and frozen cold,
alive, yet barely breathing,
screaming, yelling, yet wont escape those lungs,
slowly the kerosine pours through your teeth, soon infects the body,
so set her alite, she'll take her last breath,
she screams: set me free, ****in just cremate me,
Down to every last drip, put me out of this pathetic bliss,
wont hurt except a minute, then slowly fade away;
Never fear hurt again, you see,
cause to hurt a body must be living;
breaking down every inch of her body,
burning and aching, as time counts itself,
first quickly becomes second and third degree burns,
laying half alive,
decomposing is all she knows,
bones break and shatter,
marrow turns black, then all over her suddenly cracks
her heart stops, as if there's no life,
only ashes to reminisce upon,
set them alite also,
she said no trace of her left,
gone as if she never even appeard,
becomes a figment of imagination,
dont bother thinking of her,
her existance has disapeared
Categories:
kerosine, death, life, sad, me,
Form: Epic
whimsical lass in a calico dress
holding hat on head
of a bob-cut tress
looking for one daisy in
a autum wheat field
.....and finding instead
an old wagon wheel
tom-boy/lady in between
hayrides and romance....
just looking for fun
she is a halloween queen
lovely lady in a long white dress
with slender white fingers
delicately holding a orchid
bouquet...
she looks at her love
with his strong lean face
fine old woman
in a blue cashmere......
holding her dreams
against the tick of the
clock
stooped old granny
watching for him
lighting a kerosine
lamp .....
she
keeps supper warm
on his t.v. platter.
janetta
Categories:
kerosine, lifeold, halloween, old,
Form: Free verse
Life in the house is pretty easy these days,
what with washers, vacuams, fridges, and microwaves.
My poor old mum had none of those,
just the old fashoined copper, and scrubbing board, to wash our clothes.
No mains water, or power,
so of course, there was no shower.
Meat safe hanging in the tree outside,
giant blowflies, committing suicide.
Baking a cake was quite a feat,
for the wood stove had to be kept at a constant heat.
At night the kerosine lamp was lit,
for a nighttime visit to the bog outside, one required a candle for a sit.
Hot water cylinder rumbling away,
meant the wood stove had been going all day.
The old flat iron, for ironing clothes,
permanent press, there were none of those.
I know exactly what my old mum would say,
if she saw the gadgets we have in our homes today.
Holy Cow.
Categories:
kerosine, life, old, old, mum,
Form: Blank verse
Life in the house is pretty easy these days,
what with washers, vacuams, fridges, and microwaves.
My poor old mum had none of those,
just the old fashoined copper, and scrubbing board, to wash our clothes.
No mains water, or power,
so of course, there was no shower.
Meat safe hanging in the tree outside,
giant blowflies, committing suicide.
Baking a cake was quite a feat,
for the wood stove had to be kept at a constant heat.
At night the kerosine lamp was lit,
for a nighttime visit to the bog outside, one required a candle for a sit.
Hot water cylinder rumbling away,
meant the wood stove had been going all day.
The old flat iron, for ironing clothes,
permanent press, there were none of those.
I know exactly what my old mum would say,
if she saw the gadgets we have in our homes today.
Holy Cow.
Categories:
kerosine, mother, old, old, mum,
Form: Narrative