Long Charmers Poems
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When the snake charmers walk along the lanes,
The excited kids follow them in chains.
Holding their snakes in round baskets and pots,
The charmers search for the suitable spots.
Wear specific attire for they have flair,
Grow handlebar moustache, long curly hair;
Keep hoop earrings, zari turbans on heads;
Put blobs on foreheads; hung bead chains with threads.
Sitting cross-legged in front of those pots,
Grabbing our attention, untie the knots.
Carry their flutes made of dried bottle gourds,
Play their music notes, expecting rewards.
The serpent rises from with its hood up;
They move knees to the snake; a right set up.
It sways hood and makes hissing as if charmed,
Charmers too believe the same and affirmed. .
How do the charmers run the show freely?
Are they not afraid of them really?
The backdrop secret is ignored and skipped
The poor serpent’s fangs are almost ripped.
A STRAND (1066) Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Date: 04-02-2022
Placed : 1st
Some of the most charming people in the world
are trolls with mean dispositions they hide for months at a time
They like to date lively, joyful, women
These charmers are lovely; saying the right things
Tricking these women into falling in love with them
After they capture these women, they attempt to isolate them
Doing their best to keep them from their families and loved ones
Stating their friends are not “good enough” for them
Making fun of their woman if she wants to see her “mommy” or “sisters”
Beware of anyone who wants to isolate you.
They might smile, and you might have seen charm from them
But beware. Abusers and trolls smile too.
hereunder is served some poetry pouches full of love,
dear reader, stir them as you like,
if you wish you may crack them to pour into mouth,
you may smear them on your body
or you may sprinkle them on the ground
and then chant the name of god
with love and enjoyment
1.
the simplicity that rolls down
from the body of the sweet-meat
made by my mother
let it bring light
to our radish-red love-story
to hear or to notice
love
does not need
putting an ear on the wall
of the wall-street journal
the bottle could be filled
from the voice
when you go to fill the bottle
you would see that everywhere
the arrangement of picnic is ready
when i want to take part in that feast
my neighbours would drive me towards
the home
although i’ve spent all my life
running behind the love
2.
who’s won the muddy-battle
was yesterday’s politics
my addiction is actually to cater
the pouch of love
to develop all vitamins
and all bathrooms
people say you don’t love
the claps of the rats
yet i’ll come down
from the branch of a guava-tree
as a wave-of-shopping-mall
to the lake of your love
now i’ll jump out
from this computer screen
to register a kiss
on your lips
don't miss to applaud
by clapping the hands
3.
the heart is half-sunk
in the window
to some extent
in the lipstick too
on the dinner-plate
there is the feelings of the lord
that means
i’ve to be burnt more
i do agree
i would become
the sculpture of khajuraho
this happenings may have been
the right search for love
on either-side of which
a green is being worked out
by the nostalgic-cycle
whose colour-texture is very much harappa
which has too many geometric-memories
4.
an undertone is speaking
from within the solitude
now i’m in very much
distress
or i’m in love
i don’t know my love is what-for
may be that’s an arrangement only
so easily are those interactions
stitched with words
strenuous or effortless
in flight
initiated
with seclusion
but when in the sinking of the playfulness
i write the games of the street-charmers
the birds again and again
pierce the archery
thus becoming ashes
through travelling
in time-gaps still
the audacity to compose poems
on you
Build a padded wall around the entire earth.
We've become one giant insane asylum.
For which there's no cure.
While you're at it.
Hang a neon vacant eyes sign.
For everything has turned the deepest shade of blind.
Right has turned into wrong/wrong spliced into right.
We've become the galactic idiot-a universal blight.
That's what happens when you replace growth.
With a quick-fix prick, Charmers and anorexic influencers.
When mountains of youth are glazed with victimhood.
Unearned accolades -no accountability balm.
There's no longer social sedimentation.
Between the saint and psychopath.
God is flipping us the dirty bird.
While searching for his misplaced wrath.
mailed copious letters to friends
acquaintances, a couple to publisher
to elicit opinion which poet
perfection used to examine
acute as hesitation extracted
Darkness games —— Emily’s
intuitive aim put Robin Hood to
shame exacting was her Veracity
brook too clear to cross calmly near
So — this divinely embodied
Spirited Crystal lowered her sweetie
eats to children below her window
not resisting her feats Giggling
Family and contextual wealth a
gift from Lord Above though parental
closeness not too well fulfilled —-
adoring Austen and Vinnie jelled did
she Su as sister-in-law she could
not but completely open her door to this
endearing Core so smart with Presence
tangoing too impressive —— that rumours
abounded intimacy illegitimate
…
Flowers as neutral nifty charmers
Untainted with emotion her favourite
Devotion —- in perennial garden
Emily laboured with them advising
floundering pistils In own
orchards, fresh fields and woods
she knew them all as Inspiration
on willing call Spring or Fall
Emily —- an ember clear without masks
ambitions, mirages illustrious Lily light
from yonder
authentic her magnetic innocence sought
no validation Circled by Knowingness
within Singularity
sovereign her poems into Infinity
is sown ——- for near on two
centuries we now Crack her
Marbles which into booklets poetess
stitched
—- those on ink and under iridescent
skull nourishing West Cemetery
in Amherst dispersed
Emily’s ‘I felt a Funeral in my Brain’
STILL making Headlines
dying for Beauty surrendering
to Truth Penetrating pure her vibrations
across grey matter
She watches me
W R I T E
Golden Retrievers are the bestest friends
They'll love you no matter what
Even if you've just had the worst day ever
These charmers your heart will touch
Their wagging tails are a good indication
You're their favourite supplier of love
They're also aware you're a supplier of food
There's no higher friendship above
They're the bestest friend a man can have
They trust you to the nth degree
Treat them kindly, they're almost like people
Except when they need to pee
Then they cross their eyes and cross their legs
And dance back and forth, to and fro
But they never complain, just motor along
Unless of course you react to slow
Golden Retrievers are the bestest friends
They'll love you no matter what
They'll love you even if the sky's falling down
The bestest damn friend you've got
© Jack Ellison 2014
Bell-shaped English Bluebells
Violet face of lilac landscape
Charming tints of scarlet
Exuberance of Maple Red
Red, white, upright Tulips
Preening of vibrant spring
Whistling breath of wind
Kisses swaying Daffodils
Laden droplets refracting
Gleam of rose-petal gems
Bluebird’s pine-needle nest
Home of blueish green eggs
Crocus purple flowers
Amethyst glory of jewels
Scented Lilly of the Valley
Blooming white charmers
Rainbow colors of Hyacinth
Jewels glinting window sills
Spicy fragrant Dianthus
Apex of prized decorum
July 4, 2020
Placed 1st: Strand Completely New Poetry (5) Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
I wished to find the words for you - so beautiful and dear,
The pretty ones that you would be so happy just to hear -
And when I found the very bestest, selected just for you,
I’d put them into a poem’s lines, so they would ring so true.
It took time to find these charmers that like to hide from me.
“Queue up in a line”, I said, “so my beloved can see!”
But these dumb clods never do what I command them to.
This is the silly way they lined up to prepare for you to view:
“Soft like silk, a lullaby, a rainbow, an azure sky,
Verdant woodlands, a butterfly, snowy peaks, apple pie.”
“You must tell her what she means to you and what is in your heart.
I’m afraid this is not good enough, it’s only just a start.”
“We’re walking out”, said these dopes, “of your love poem, I’m afraid.
What you are asking of us stiffs is over our pay grade.”
It was then I thought, with these mad guys, I should make amends.
If I cannot command them, then perhaps we could be friends.
And so, my dear, it’s time I fear, to pause and to regroup.
Because these words have turned on me and turned this poem to poop.
When you hear a voice in the wilderness
That's tempting you in hours of loneliness
Remember the strength that was shown by Christ
In the desert those forty days and nights.
Demons are alert when you're at your worst
They'll come along when you hunger or thirst
When you feel that life is losing sparkle
They quickly jump in, dodgers are artful.
Rogues are charmers who appear day or night
And we are tempted when a demon strikes
We're only human and induce mistakes
Throughout life's journey goodness is at stake.
Coming along with evil will at heart
Their aim is for fine folk to fall apart
Devils in disguise is what demons are
Feeding off the meek alone when it’s dark.
We’re all aware who the evil beast is
So why do some find it hard to resist
Refuse and stay strong, be thou not a fool
For fools rush in and forget all God's rules.
When you hear a voice and there’s no one near
Pray to God and He’ll allay all your fear.
You had to be there. Literally, there.
Just hearing it removes the third dimension.
Necessity's the mother of invention?
Idea-whose-time-has-come must be the père.
But how can you replace the footlights' glare,
the acrobats' contrived, but visceral, tension?
You can't. So much is lost in a mere mention,
that wings its way to us through colourless air.
They once were princes. Now reduced to strugglers.
What use is wireless to ventriloquists?
Where did their future go? There are no answers.
The dole can never compensate the jugglers,
or anyone whose acumen consists
in sleight of hand - snake charmers or tap dancers.