Lores Poems | Examples

In Stars Above

I
Wonder
At patterns
In Stars Above
Asterisms that range
From straight line to horsehead
Traingles, quadrangles, seven sages
Inspiring stories, lores, beliefs
A tracing tool for seekers, searchers
In dark I align with them, light, am lost

Combatting dollars

Clashes of riches
For everyone wishes to be pronounced “thor”
Their hammer being the only way for them to score,
For they all need keys to unbind forbidden doors.
The answer meanwhile has been stitched to a lame roar, 
He who hears it, can decipher all the nameless lores.

Past Paradise

Over lush green mounds
Did stand many thriving towns
They did spread over vast azure pools
With help from shipbuilders' mighty tools
And mighty were the first to land on those shores
Valiant are they now in myth and lores
Strong were those who weilded weapons in battle
Stronger yet were those content with land and cattle
Amongst the trees so dark and tall
Were many bountiful victory feasts held in Fall
Many were the men who took comfort in the splendor of wine
And many more who took kindly to women most divine
But less yet took wonder to the riches of gold
These men were bestowed upon as kings mighty and bold
Great kingdoms did they build to abide
With many steers to raise and ride
Above in the heavens have many lights shone
As they still do though those times are gone

Ink me in stars

"My soul ceases to stroll ~
      in the ruffled leaves of lotus letters, 
                 whose paper sun
             has never surfed to your seabeds..." 
             
                                ~ quote by the poet. 


Say, I'll be the saviour-spell
...for your champagne stars, sinking
in eyes eclipsed by cupid
where orphans of daylight, dwell

when I am nothing... but pain
a puppet princess, dethroned
I dream to be your heartbeat
...pearled in peace periwinkles

when poetry is Psyche
...freckled in my fogged marrow
and petals fall, pulse by pulse 
ink me feathered, in grape-golds

if the hydra hymns forget
to breathe my name in silence
O' love, I'll bask ~ laced with lores
healed in you...like a poem

When It's Spring Forget not Winter

When the sky seems clear and the ocean so calm
Forget not the screams you hear and the broken bow charm

When the food fills stomach and the water quinches thirst 
Forget not the hunger of heirs and the years of fast

When the water flows fine and the wind blows pleasant 
Forget not the slaughter show line or the brinn who resent 

When the needle pricks palm and the body feels pain 
Forget not the open City grave and the blood through lane

When the night gives sleep and the sun starts day
Forget not the sought of brood and the last hope's ray

When the home holds hand and the sweater gives warmth 
Forget not the camps on sand and the heater left dearth 

When the father brings things and the mother cooks food
Forget not the cries of siblings and the lost parenthood 

When the nation gives you pride and the freedom on the land 
Forget not the pain that glide; inside the wrecked homeland 

When you hear of lores and the legends of yore
Forget not the ruins of nations and the world of war.

Evening

O beauteous eve in hamlet's meads! 
Thy magic lores all us enthrall
You are the breath of forest weeds
You are the angels airy call

I see the dusky sky and trees
They all with soul of nature breath
Wild daisies blood from veins squeeze
And doth so forlorn lonesome heath

The smoke that rised from the yards
Calls ancient stories in our minds
Which told in books by heavens Lord
That all one in thy mystery finds

The trees whisper in holy dread
While lakes and rivulets sing and flow
In woods the blooms in comfort sleep
Then curtains drop on magic show

Keep On Keeping On

You may rest awhile if the trek be tough, 
Grab a breath when the terrain is rough; 
Let the oars have some respite,
And the rower fresh viands bite.

But the going must anon continue, 
For time tells motions of the brave
(According to lores heavens gave) , 
Shall all forever subdue the earth; 
And man's toil shall win him mirth.

Pull your ear from naysayers' sigh
That affirms that man forever can't; 
Keep the company of them that try; 
Dwell in the fold of champs of hope.
 
Remember it's no crime to slip a cry
If bristles of fate spanner your heart; 
Allow a tear if straining be too much, 
But through all remember this part: 
You must ever keep on keeping on! 

Nothing has ever successfully stood
In the bold path of a determined man, 
Who keeps walking despite the mood.
The world lacks case of one who tried, 
And was the object of his zeal denied! 

Give ear all that hear the spoken word, 
For none like this has ever been heard -
The esoteric code that rules the world: 
That you'll have to keep on keeping on!

Rebellious Converts

Convert! Said the Spanish conquistadors.
They were more violent than the Moors.
We put on our mask.
And did what they asked.
Pretending to believe in their Christian lores.

One Minute Birding

Spare a minute
to know about
those perky creatures
and their special features

Lifers, twitcher, tertial and lores
are nothing but the birding terms
Introduce, birding to the children,
As that would make kids pen

Their mesmerizing melodious calls 
and the raising tunes wake up all 
from those regular humdrum 
and make us embrace the bliss

They are the angels from heaven
who have the power to turn
even the empty plots into garden
and the frozen winter into spring

They are the one who begin
the jingles in the dawn
and the one who end 
the day by doing murmuration at dusk

They make us feel high,
For, they are buoyant souls that fly
which transfer their energy and power
to the one who watches them for hours

So why waiting? Look out
Spare a minute...

Want to know more?
Pls do see my youtube channel 
" one minute birding"...

Here is the link to my channel...

https://youtube.com/channel/UCLXFhWUfAmil_vqPAeOa-2w

The Hospital Asile

The Hospital Asile

Like the highway as long it goes
Like the lover's longing 
Like the winter's silence 
Like prisoned midnight and falling dawn 
Like the voyages made by Christopher 

Tube lights and window panes,
Sang the lullaby.
The lone street outside,
Sleeps in the womb of night.

Nurses battling with duties and dreams 
Doctors gravelled in white and faith
Staffs tested their patience and nestled 

Behind the door, 
Lay my ailing amma.
Her husband.
Her father.
Her pal.
Or somebody!

The shivering soul and my frozen veins seated in a long bench 
Music of my tapping feet in the stained floor tryst with melancholy 
Lost of fear is lost
Light of hope had perished 

Just like Arctic Ocean covered by ice,
Her body covered in white linen.
And the ticking 3 AM
In the hospital asile
Elevator carried lost spirits,
Looks like ceramic sculptures.

About So-Called Australia Pt 1

Let me teach you a thing or two
Passed down from elders’ past,
You won’t learn this from library books
Nor technology contrast.

About so-called Australia 
About the frontier wars,
About all of my ancestors…
Shot dead upon the shores.

Captain Cook discovered Australia
In my ears they drilled,
School salute the flag of loot
No mention of the skilled…

Cunningly shaping weapons and tools;
For white man broke the lores
Protecting women and children;
Black men in frontier wars.

How they shocked Aboriginals;
The aliens from overseas…
Ordered and rewarded
To hang them all from trees.

When they killed most of the men
Hence minority about,
They raped the women and the girls
To breed the black right out.

Complete success they did not have
As “Australia” tried a-building,
Evilness again transpired
Stealing all the children.

My Mother, My Nana, My great Nan,
All stolen from their parents
The Australian Government did it again-
For slavery insurance.

Opal Spells

Her allure blooms in musty shops
Held on silver bands of celtic lores

A foretelling of ancient paths...

Of twilight-caught scarlet raindrops
Of visions gleaned through fateful doors

Of spells whispered to Welsh hilltops

A mystic gem on Wiccan staff
My opal of demure witchcraft

5/15/19

A Lost Generation

This madness This madness 
This curse 
The plague of digital fame
The first to post
The next big thang 
Violence as recreation 
The demise of education 
The end of creation 
The last breath taken
Joy in death 
The crowd roars
Joy in self promotion 
A life left to lores
To all who have fallen 
At the hands of complicity 
To youth not realized 
To a light for every corner 
Here's my heart, my tears 
All for you Amy Joyner

There She Stood

The wind blew her locks,  as she stared down the road. 
Sending my beats in commotion,  there she stood. 
Her lovely sight gazing at the sparrow chirping beside. 
How I wish,  I could be a shade to let her frown fade. 
Her laughter brightening the falling sands of my day. 
Glowing as a dream, one that could make me sleep all life. 
Chilling my soul amidst the warmth of Indian summer.
Fragrant as the lilies of eden,  there she stood. 

My conscience searches my soul,  as I move forward. 
Determined to speak  my heart,  loud as thunders in East bay. 
Shaking in the tranquility of love,  mesmerised in charms. 
She paced forwards as I froze with dread of a loss. 
Wondering of the tale,  venerance felt for those lively eyes. 
The zittern in me played loud, as plectrum paced gracefully. 
No cupid with redolent lores on darts  and the dream broke. 
I stood at the altar of shattered hopes.. Next night as i dozed
There she stood..

House of Dengbej

In The House Of Dengbej
 

Three sisters sit
Each in crimson velvet
And veiled hair.
Relate tales
Of interracial love.
Of Armenian Boys and Kurdish Gals.
This is a town of
Cobbled streets and redbrick houses of the ancient Lore.
Diyarbakir, Sur.
Fidus Achates: an Armenian gal and a Kurdish girl
Are no more. The ghosts of the Armenians; translucent
Still linger on the mud walls.
Poplar trees cast melancholy shadows
Over the last remaining residents
Mostly Kurdish
Soon to join the ghosts of the Armenians?
Still the guerrilla resistance continues.
Behind the soiled curtains of white lace.
Death is a banality. Blood spills on baked soil
Daily.
Freedom is a distant land to be conquered.
Wine making and relating tales of ancient lores
And the allure. Lured the youth to Sur.


The House of Dengbej in Sur.
Finest stories are spun like sugar
 

And spread from tongue to tongue.
 
* Sur was once a very cosmopolitan town with a harmonious community. It is now a town of bitter conflict between the Turks and Kurdish.

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