Long Waiving Poems
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Heavy and eerie silence reigned therein,
The dark rooms looking as sullen as mean,
As if they had taken serious offence
Against me who had failed in their esteem,
My heart feeling contrite was heaving tense,
To have halfway deserted my fond dream.
No one was there my inner thoughts to share,
None who so some forgiveness to me spare,
Aimless I wandered into my blank mind,
And wished I could that royal guitar find
To inveigle my heavy heart to sing:
O Fire, this poor moth that in vain wished once
To fly away, hast returned broken wing
To thee, forgive him just this one instance,
Burn away both his wings and make him lame,
Nay, consume him in thy red scorching flame.
As I wailed clue-less, my soul sinking low,
Two warm teardrops fell from above on brow.
Dark and deep clouds hung overcast on hills
That day, the gloomy woods and bare river
Awaiting in suspense with monsoon drills,
An ominous calm prevailed all over.
And soon it all shivered— land along sky,
A wild tempest blew forth O howling by,
Through pathless woods glaring its lightning teeth,
Like a raving maniac snapping chain,
Wishing to unleash hell, terrible pain
To whoso there’s on hills, whoso beneath!
And not a soul around was in the camp
To wipe dark of my heart, nor light a lamp,
I could sense: a woman lying on face—
On a carpet below the bed, clasping
Her wounded heart, and pulling hair in stress,
Blood trickling down, in utter pain, laughing
Still, bursting into a hard wringing wail,
Now, rend her bodice, now beat breasts gone frail,
And from nowhere winds roared in from windows,
The pouring rains soaked further her sorrows.
Through night the storm never did cease to rage,
Nor did my fair lady's passionate cry,
I wandered from room to room, a blind man,
Unremitting sorrows my companion,
And yet none there who could have consoled me,
As I heard the cry: ‘stay back, all is false',
Maher Ali the mad was there, no doubt,
The old tenant of this odd wailing house,
‘Tell me what’s false?' I could not help but ask,
Waiving me off was how he responded,
Repeating, ‘stay back, stay back, all is false'.
_____________________________________________
Narrative |01.04.2024|
Note: A poetic translation of Rabindranath Tagore’s story in Bengali, Kshudhaarto Paashaana.
Just because you didn't finish that thought
Doesn't mean we didn't know what you were thinking
And you’d think the voice in my head had no choice but to agree with me
But the knife’s dripping and the guns smoking
And I didn’t want my lungs to feel left out
So I took a hit while the voices were speaking
My mind is a hospital with celebrity guests
Everything is urgent but nothing gets done
A cursed tomb, but the hieroglyphics had your face in devastation,
Worse than a car crash
And defeat worse than waiving the white flag
with an enemy boot on your back
I'm not used to the targets being on me
They thought they would find us at the source of their qualms
Through following crooked maps drawn from our palms
The treasure they found was innocence and a youthful pact
They didn’t know what they were looking at
We rose and we created a death march
Everybody loved when we lined up the culprits
And as we walked by, we all pointed and laughed
Our brutal yet satisfied democracy at work
They couldn’t tell what they were looking at
Brutal, not so brutal
Your cursed tomb of shapeshifters and unhealed wounds
I brought you here, miles and miles and oceans away
Just so you could see yourself
When we see you, this is what we’re looking at
A tomb of cobwebs and a god complex laid to rest;
This is what we’re looking at
I’m not used to the targets being on my back
I stole their fashion statements right from their drawyers
And I’m not giving them back
And why would I expect you to feel bad?
You’ve been playing this game since you were born
You’re the only person I would trust to come out of this alive
Shout my name from the hilltops when you’re done
to let me know you survived
You’re the only person I would trust to come out of this alive
You’re laying lifeless with your arms crossed against your chest
This is what we’re looking at
A tomb of cobwebs and a god complex laid to rest
You’re the only person I would trust to get me out of this alive
linda puts on her lipstick and brushes her blond hair
pulls up her garterbelt and g-string underwear
a black mini skirt and a shirt with no bra
he buys her condoms and sends her off onto the night
to the streets of new york linda finds her way to the track
smiling and waiving to the tricks as they wave back
horns blow people scream police riding around
pimps on the prowl in search of their next ho
slow money causes problems so linda gets desperate
tells the trick she'll cut him a deal for a date
little linda so young and nieve has no idea whhat this trick has in mind
he pulls out a gun and points it in her ribs
tells her not to scream and do what hs says
he drives for an hour and leaves linda to wonder
finally pulling into an empty parking lot
linda knows whats next so she takes off all her clothes
hoping if she abides he'll let her go
he rapes her over and over leaving nothing to spare
stripping away what little dignity linda has left
leaving her in a pool of swet and busted nuts
he tells her to get dressed and to never say a word
with that it was all she heard
he takes her back to the place it all began
linda jumped out the van and ran as fast as she could
her pimp finally finds her all soiled and a mess
without hesitation he strikes her to the ground
the beating continued in front of everyone
what a way to end her night raped and beaten down
linda crawls away to the comfort of her hotel room
hoping and praying that the night was over for good
she jumped in the shower and cleaned her wounds
scrubbing away the blood and semen that painted her little body
linda lies down to rest and tries to forget what occured
this is the only life she knows and with it comes good and bad
tomorrows another day
Form:
Sprouting life, a squeezed flesh ball enters to human race
Opening the tiny sparkling eyes, it glares, then cries
Mortals arrive as the temporize of Lord’s will
He devotes his being for fulfilling His intention, appeal.
Slowly he proceeds to maturity, enjoys youth, decays, then eventually dies…
The flavor of being alive, experiences only for a short, so lovely is those spices!
Heaven knows why He destines so short span of time for us,
The glorious Lord becomes so miser in this priceless case!
Setting the life loop He sends the tender hearts for concise time
Every heart is gifted with only one chance to live to tell the tale.
Bestowing worries like always, it hugged with some true pleasures,
Showering some pains as before, it removed my all failures
Thus, my 2015 arrived and at last retired,
I traveled along my kith and kin far and abroad.
In conclusion, what I gained is not like before
I equate my life cycle to the albatross on sea shore
Above the white waved sea, I see the frothy albatross waiving the wings, fly
Forgetting the wide wide blue boundless, bountiful textured sky
Reaching extremely high, it trembles following the sand clock
Before finishing the red rays of sky, it is to return down back
The trust of my hubby, faith on me geared its top by this year,
Destiny also gifted me the final destination of my nomad memoir
That is the best gift what I wished till then
Thanks 2015 thanks Canadian Immigration!
12/14/20
Since the dawn of time it was illustrating
One was dominating
The other was failing
There was no relating
Only hating
And instigating
All this debating
And complaining
With poor negotiating
To the youth, what are we demonstrating?
So much division and not a lot of aiding
Sure there is some trading
But there is also raiding
And invading
To this day, time has shown and been displaying
It's dismaying
Opportunities seized or are fading
Does no good to just be waiting
People playing
People saying
Strange things
Evil in the making
Homages their paying
As they partake in praying
On the go or staying
Peaceful or always preying
Money continually draining or saving
To the system still slaving
Soon to be caving
And misbehaving
One's own path they're paving
And trailblazing
Or they are just waiving
Never braving
Always giving into cravings
Wasting
Always in last they are placing
Too many people shading
And shaming
Truth is life is fascinating
And entertaining
Yet it is also devastating
And frustrating
With other lifeforms, I am communicating
Continually sailing
Working towards prevailing
As I keep aging
The body slowly degrading
In my heart it's always raining
But I am not complaining
Occasionally stargazing
Still facing any undertaking
Life I'm embracing
B.S. I can no longer be chasing
Look around, life can be beautiful and amazing
"There is one more thing I want to show you my girl
so that your joy may be even more complete yet," said
Jesus with a twinkle in his eyes.
Once again I was awake inside of dreamland. I was standing
on a beach, by the waters of an ocean. At a distance out in
this ocean there was a rather more modern ship than Jesus' older
noble galleon.
This ship was a merchant ship, I waived at this ship's crew who
were on the deck, and they waived back at me.
Then something caught my eyes; looking to the left I saw an
awesome sight, it was a white Arabian stallion who was racing
along the sandy beach... racing along with this merchant ship.
The crew was very enthusiastic about this.
The members of this crew were waiving and cheering this horse
on as he raced past me and ran up to the edge of the water, then he
came to a sudden stop and reared up on his hind legs. He was greeting
this merchant ship and its crew... this ship was sailing off to trade its wares,
merchandise, ideas of peace to the people of faraway lands.
Later when I was back on board Jesus' galleon, I was even more filled with
peace, hope and joy.
"See everything is in Father God's hands. So everything is going to be more
than o.k.," said Jesus with a big warm laugh.
Later when I awoke, I recorded all that had been shown to me.
Surely there were more such adventures inside that place called Dreamland.
It's just so nice to shout out loud.
Waiving your pride and a rainbow flag.
Telling the world, "I AM PROUD!"
There are no more issues
when you walk around.
Because you just come out
from your deepest fear.
Don't be afraid, don't be afraid.
Let go, stand up and show off!
Nothing is wrong, just go on!
Oh it's nice to be gay, darling!
You need to let go anxiety...
Stand up against hate...
Show off what's it to be a gay.
It's nice to be gay.
As long as you spread love,
Here'a a toast of your courage.
As long as you hurt nobody,
It gives you more than freedom.
There's something even more
Be proud that you're gay!,
You are born to be special,
You are born to be loved.
Don't be afraid, don't be afraid.
Let go, stand up and show off!
Nothing is wrong, so just go on!
Oh it's nice to be gay, darling!
You need to let go anxiety...
Stand up against hate...
Show off what's it to be a gay,
It's nice to be gay.
If people will say,
Your sexuality is a joke.
You are not to be blamed,
Not to be blamed.
You have a purpose,
Just love and be gay.
It's your kindness that matters,
Just love above hate.
Let go, stand up and show off!
Nothing is wrong, so just go on!
Oh it's nice to be gay, darling!
You need to let go anxiety...
Stand up against hate...
Show off what's it to be a gay,
It's nice to be gay.
LeiStrauss2019
Juneteenth… Justifiably they say ignorance is bliss.
No, it’s nothing to be proud of.
Ultimately unaware and unfamiliar, living in Canada
I had no clue about racism.
Naïve with never more than a glimpse of references seen
on bits of night time television.
Epitomizing the slavery era, aired the much acclaimed
tv series ROOTS much to my chagrin.
Truthfully it was the last coup de grace,
the last nail in the coffin of my innocence.
Evil had a face and victims the likes of my idol
Sammy Davis Jr who sang The Candy Man.
Embittered? Supposedly not with his debonair charm,
yet what of all my Motown idols?
No further than in my lifetime, discrimination and bigotry,
the need for a Juneteenth.
Traditional celebrations commemorating the thirst
for freedom of emancipated ancestors.
Heads of parades waiving a Juneteenth Flag of Freedom
while sipping a Strawberry soda pop.
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on June 15, 2018 for contest JUNETEENTH POETRY sponsored by EDWARD IBEH - RANKED 3RD
I can't see the fading clock
but I hear those mournful chimes,
Been echoing through my heart
from the most ancient of times.
I can sense that she's standing
on some distant foreign shore,
Wond'ring if I think of her
like I had done once before.
Her hair's waiving in the breeze
while her eyes are set alight,
Younger than the years gone by
since I saw her on that night.
It was from a willow grove
under silence of the moon,
She walked on another path;
left a broken heart to swoon.
Were blossoms on the mountain
and white roses on a grave,
The photographs once cherished
are but fantasies ill saved.
I see floods in the valleys,
I walk through mem'ries ablaze,
Yet the times keep on moving
into soon forgotten days.
The hands of a clock still turn
in the whispers of the breeze,
All the thoughts that have passed by
can still bring me to my knees.
A willow grove waits no more
for the ones been left behind,
Still she stands upon the shore;
a broken heart drifts through time.
standing in the rain again
in the rain again I stand,
next to the Finnish truck driver waiving with a wet newspaper
or maybe it's a card deck, hand looks like a duck's beak
from the radio "Satumaa" sounds like fruits falling from trees
rolling down on the patio to find a man and woman circling each other's bulb like bodies
and everyone has forgotten why it rains
we are surrounded by tango and dresses and unsteady hands on knee caps, nails tapping on guilt and minds too hazy to recall what a promise feels like
drops keep running down my neck
I long for a glass of whatever to lean my finger and thoughts against
Reijo Taipale will not be leaving the radio anywhere soon, and someone says "we are in a movie, feels like it, right? this is too real to be anything but"
no birds are singing anymore
wax like birches are standing heavy and empty against the quiet lake
where all the horses sometimes used to swim
the wooden boards will squeak when I leave.