Long Alighted Poems
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I saw a look of hurt so primordial, the dust teared and cleared
Every wrinkle, every agony,
Every twinkle in his eye hopelessly wrought by words
He struggled with a bag of old books,
His white hair scraggly, his breathing heavy
I, with sorrow wrenching from my soul,
Sought his own, in a sad smile that he so feverishly caught
Moments passed, as the older man disappeared,
But I sat there, ready to speak to him if he should return
For such a catch in the eye
Cannot soon dim and die with chance
He returned swiftly,
“Excuse me, will you be here long?”
I said, “Sure. What is it?”
He looked into my eyes and smiled,
“Would you mind watching my books for just a bit?
My clarinet is in the building, I need to go fetch it from a friend.”
“Sure,” Said I. “No problem.”
He thanked me, setting the bag down near me
And walked with confidence to the building,
To retrieve his instrument
I pondered his life, the pain in his eyes,
And for a moment wondered how it might compare to mine
This old man, struggling with a massive bag of books,
An even greater weight pressing upon his practiced brain
A brain filled with the pure notes of a mechanism that soars
He returned almost joyously, thanking me once again,
Relaying to me his previous sufferings,
Unkind, uncouth words,
In his mind, sure and inerasable
“Have you ever been treated so ill you wished to die?
Have you ever felt that little?
Felt so powerless, and failing?
Surely I must be boring you. . .”
When his countenance calmed and I reassured him,
Offering my sympathetic ear,
And many a sensitive nod,
He asked my name before leaving forever
“Ah…do you know the song ‘Laura’?”
He hummed the tune and I beamed, nodding,
Remembering the haunting melody
It was as if he was anticipating that nod,
That he knew I recognized such a strange, haunting tune
By his happy, alighted smile
So when he went on his way,
With his heavy bag of books,
And his clarinet tucked safely in his black box,
Our pains sauntered on to less fortunate fellows
Diva with human touch- for contest
Alighted she from her red limousine
Bedecked in A-line gown, pista green
Till the waist embroidered golden sheen
Satin silk with a halter neckline
Charming face and a vibrant smile!
Stiletto glassy gold with shiny stones
Diamonds green dangled from her earlobes
Clutch in hand golden green embellished with pearls
Nail art elegant studded with shimmers added extra glow
Glossy red lips, curly eye-lashes, glamour gushed in flow
Chiselled nose, magical eyes, hairstyle mussed beehive
She looked a mermaid of fairyland
With rosy cheeks and graceful style
Confident steps on the red carpet
Huge cheer from the umpteen fans
Gorgeous diva of dreams she was
Guys present had skipped heartbeat
Cameras flashed to click her pics
She looked seasoned to this paparazzi and glitz
Waved she her hands and sent flying kiss
Autographs from classy pen with golden nib
Chaperoned by a handsome guy,
reached the stage beautifully set for her
Mike in hand she addressed the crowd with I love you all....
Money I raise from my song tonight will go to my charity drive
To help shape future of the children from the war-torn land
Huge applause and then follows sweet song in her voice
Celebrated beauty she already was yet more
beautiful her ways
Her charms always struck the sight but her tender heart won the soul!
© Copyright Anulaxmi Nayak,2015
For contest: Puttin on the Ritz
Sponsored by: Judy Konos
Submitted on: 4th September 2015
A GENTLEMAN IN THE NIGHT :
She sat alone, in a dress of ivory silk.
Beneath the stars, sparkling
like the white wine
shared at the party.
Her mind drifted gently
like the leaves that fell from
the late autumn trees
in the park nearby.
She turned her gaze heavenward
and felt the soft breeze,
uplifting, cradle her chin
in her warm hands.
The gentleman had made a promise;
by the stroke of midnight,
that she await at this very spot,
for his descent.
How handsome he had been,
his slender fingers caressing her back,
as they danced, entranced,
the music guiding them.
He whispered his instructions
in her ear, so soft...
Under his power, she obeyed.
Bringing her here, to wait.
Her luscious locks swayed,
moving with the wind,
just as she had moved with him;
A shadow.
Out of the murk he strode.
Tall, dark, and handsome.
She swooned pre-emptively,
awaiting his embrace.
As he drew from beneath his cloak,
it glinted, but why?
The precious moonlight reflected,
both in her eyes, and in the steel.
The reflection only momentary;
his blade, dulled by lavish burgundy,
and her eyes,
dulled by the embrace of death.
She sighed softly, nary a sound,
as he embraced her one final time,
whispering to her his farewell.
She smiled, and slipped into the ether.
They found her come morning.
A single rose alighted upon her lifeless form.
The gentleman had struck once more.
And disappeared into the night.
By Aliza Kashmala Kiran
December came with Christmas beckoning at the door
He saw every house bright with many a lamp
And the whole streets illumined with colorful lights and star
But his tiny hut looked dismal n’ dark like a prison camp
One evening, on a leisurely walk from school
The boy saw a man selling colorful balloons
With the little penny tucked safely in his jacket of wool
He bought a balloon and headed straight to the lagoons
There as he sat on the sprawling silver sands
A strange idea had come upon his little head
Send a letter to God seeking help from his generous hands
Hoping Jesus would listen, he too being born as a poor kid
On a white paper he carefully scribbled these lines:
“Merciful God, look upon us, this unfortunate seven
Here, we die of hunger leading miserable lives
On this Christmas, send us a little cheer up from heaven”
He folded the paper and fastened it to the balloon
Nevertheless, he didn’t forget to put his full address
When the wind was strong, he let it fly over the lagoon
And watched it soar high with his earnest plea for redress
Days went by and the awaited Christmas Eve arrived
While the world splurged in all gaiety and merriment
The poor hut remained dull with all pleasures deprived
The helpless parents were lost in grim bafflement
Abruptly, there halted before their hut a Ferrari
A man, old and greying with a graceful smile
Alighted from the car and stood looking all cheery
Searching the boy, he had travelled many a mile
It was during one of his daily strolls around the lagoon
That the gentleman saw a balloon tangled on a willow tree
The white paper tied to it, he unfastened from the balloon
Unfolding it, he saw an innocent child’s earnest plea
The man so rich and kind was moved at heart,
He from his wealth decided to donate a large sum,
To support that family of seven so severely distraught,
And give them the merriest Christmas to be no more glum.
The little boy believed Jesus has answered his prayer,
Coming in the guise of a man, he has never before seen.
With rising delight, he beheld in the sky a luminous star.
It shone right over his head with a brilliant sheen.
The alarm went off at 3 am
I brushed my teeth
Hugged my dog
Went to shower
Hugged my dog
We finally made it
My dog
I know you will get lonely
But They are going to get me a Job
I get to a matatu at 5 am
They charge me 1000 but it's fine
I am going to get a job today
And pay back my debt
I am going to get a Job
I can finally be happy
I finally made it
I can no longer get told
They are going to give me a job
I got to the big city with the sun
I alighted at Koinange street
It's famous for prostitutes
Without a Job
But not me
Me I am going to get a Job
The position advertised
Matched my education and ego
I know I am vain sometimes
But they are going to give me a job
Right on time 9 am I was told
Walked up the stairs
To the interview room on second floor
It was arranged like a church
A white man was speaking on Tv
Some guys in a suit clicking the remote
I am not going to get a job
I am not going to get a job
They are trying to make me sell
Sugar pills to people with diabetes
Oh no I am not getting a job
I sit for four hours
I get to a matatu
I do not know what I will tell my dog
That I left her alone
And even did not get a job
They lied to me my dog
They told me
That they will give me a job
They wanted me to sell
Shoes to amputees, my dog
So today we sleep hungry again
I did not get a job.
Reaping the Benefit
The midday sun blazed on the field
Where parched crops refused to yield
A barren sprawl that awaits cool rain
To yet again produce the grain
Trespassing a way upon this land
A shrewd eyed man, detector in hand
And knapsack wobbling on his back
As yet no find to make a stack
The time went by upon this plot
The dying day no longer hot
Shadows spread across the ground
The elusive treasure still not found
The fading sun took pity on the gent
A dying ray of amber hope was sent
It alighted on a beer can ring
And turned it into gold from tin
It nestled amid a shriveled vine
The sun had given it a lustrous shine
The man could not believe his luck
He dropped to his knees and picked it up
He cast the detector to one side
His skyward glance was gratified
The precious gift was in his hand
A ring of gold, an eternity band.
The moon now gazed from obscure sky
On table top it did espy
The golden ring next to the bed
And sleeping man in his homestead
Its lunar rays cast light from dark
To sit on the ring and leave its mark
From gold to tin it was transformed
The ring to beer pull newly formed
Let me tell you a story of my night journey;
After a hazardous trip from a far off state
With drooping spirits and waning energy
I alighted at the station to catch the night train
My heart besieged by memories of my home, left behind
Like a drop in the ocean
I quickly merged with the buzzing crowd
In the blinking light of platform lamps
I saw a huge crowd- the young and the old
With baggage heaped on baggage, patiently on wait
Time slouched on at snail’s pace….
At last hearing a long drawn whistle from far
I looked out and saw the train coming, snorting noisily
And halting with a screeching sound
The real ordeal begins as one lifts his suitcase
And pushes his way along with all strength,
Between bags and boxes and people,
And the porters running after you to carry the cargo
Finally I got into the train and occupied my seat among strangers
My mind plagued with fears of thieves and molesters
It was my first journey alone at night
I don’t know when I fell into a deep slumber
It was with the sound of * ‘chai…chai’ that I woke up
The inviting aroma of brewed tea entered my nostrils
At last I have reached my native soil!
I am heading home, every step and every inch
Drawing me closer and closer to my sweet haven
My heart began to pump quicker
I felt like a marooned mariner
Suddenly cast ashore by a rescue boat!
__________________________________
*‘Chai’is a local term in our language for tea !
April. 19. 2022
Form N- Narrative New Poetryy Contest
Sponsor- Constance La France
Topic- Journey
Feeling again
Ice water floated stagnant misery in caustic veins coffin nails and razor blades
waited for the vultures of frosted lavish lava-daggers staring at the mirror with
no reflection other than the murderous screams numbed by images of tangled
ropes teasing from sunken rafts and twisted rafters train tracks guiding void
demise frozen blazing ashes suffocating feelings that cannot feel any longer when
moribund candles flickered reaped what had been lost submerged forgotten in eternity
This cess pit of smudged smeared convulsed spider web on death row of mindless
mind does not resemble what the Buddha meant when he or she insinuated
mindful nothingness Nirvana half starved but happy under the fig tree’s shadow
One step at a time barefoot when spirituality meant ‘Jonny Walker’ all waters
turned into whining wine homeless wandering under bridges of destruction
appeared to be at least some being tempted dissolution dancing rugged demise
at the cliff face of life living hell aneasthetised vanished meaning arrested river
flowing backwards to the Source a sprinkling spring temptation clothed in rags
and feathered tarnished nakedness tarred with just one brush the stroke of black
Lost figs composted marbles undergrowth of metamorphous germination alighted
when grapes turned into peaches mingling scented wakes of wakening blossoms
once icicles melted merged into tingling titillating finger-skin and fingertips searched
to join minds with souls and souls with minds and bodies touching senses feelings
intellectual pheromones oozing from the fruits of scented fragrance life togetherness
they formed a delta confluence new openings direction thrusts and trust and nurture
Many nights have passed since peaches’ revelation revolution formed scooping spoons
from moons and moons from spoons delicious rhythmic rhyming twines of poet trees
in living motion poetry and miracles suspended and conjoined at hips and minds
09th July 2016
I do not know
Whose excitement was the greater
My dad’s or mine
As we boarded the bus
To a long-lost dream
Of verdant fields
Rich with the fruit of native soil
Of crystal clear streams
Where laughing youth
Was spent in carefree
Abandonment.
My dad’s eyes gleamed
As they spoke of glowing hearths
Clustered around with pots and pans
With music of bubbling broth
And the sweet smell
Of meat
As the fat simmered and sizzled
Stirring the rumbles
Of those gathered around
Listening to great grandma tales.
Sweet were his words
As scenes of pastoral joy
Rolled off his tongue
With vividness imbued
With longing
For years gone past
These two score and ten.
Come, lad, he said
With wistful smile
And a soft ache in his heart
You’ll meet ole Gran
And Uncles and Aunts
And Cousins in droves.
The bus droned through the night
And at crack of dawn
We alighted
At a ramshackle stand
With nary a soul
But a lone
Wizened man
Who had seen better times.
With a quaver of despair
My dad fearfully asked
Of such-and-such
Great clans once there
Of streets and of temples
Of markets and yards
Of fields and their tillers
Only to be met with
Stony silent stare.
There was a rise in the wind
As dust-devils danced
The torpor was mounting
Till the man finally spake
The families you seek
Have moved on
To the beyond
Ten years or so
There was a quake and a storm
Now there only be ghosts.
Now we awaited
The bus
To take us back home
Saddened son
And a ghost of a dad.
~19 Jul 2016~
Semi-fictional
Contest: Long lost family
Oh, once we had a dream, in great romantic themes
Emotional dreams we loved to share every day.
How boisterous we were running around tall firs,
Stopping to catch our breath and lose it in a kiss.
Those were the cool summer days, so carefree, with love.
How we aspired for brighter days with mirthful stance,
Our beings of wedded bliss where life around us
Excited all passion and live in paradise.
Accidents do happen but we had lover's luck.
We never noticed the darkest clouds amassing.
Out of the blue a severe storm brewed over us.
We ran fast out of the forest to open green.
The forest was alighted with deadly lightning,
Thankfully we escaped what could have been our end.
30 December 2021
12 syllables per line.