From where so a fault comes to call,
There from hint comes how to forestall:
Boils and blisters that burn,
Back by hot foments turn,
From ailment does its cure unroll.
_____________________
Translation |11.01.2025|
Poet’s note: Sanskrit has thousands of verses of wisdom called Subhashhitam. The wisdom of this verse tells us that remedy arises from the melody. The transliteration of the Sanskrit verse follows:
Yatah eva agatah doshah
tatah eva nivartate |
Agni dagdhasya visphota
shantih syat agnina dhruvam ||
Suddenly
when melancholy arrived,
she engraved the words 'sad'
deep into my manic mind.
Then abandoned me in
a pit of sinister silence.
Who turned out the lights
inside the moon?
Now the horizon looks like tar
and the voices become louder.
Every morning is a miserable melody
in this malady of heavy sighs.
I strum the invisible strings
of my mourning mandolin,
but they keep on weeping
in a chilling refrain,
as each note cuts deeper.
Now my bed is like a crimson river,
soaking in stains of regret,
as daggers of stubbornness,
stab like unspoken words.
These tears taste so acidic.
Eyes feel saggy with dark circles,
like droopy, decaying flowers and
I don't know if I'm tired
or aging too quickly,
so they remain closed.
Time ticks too slowly,
as I remain in stillness,
with a hollow cocoon heart.
Its shell full of cracks,
waiting for happiness to
knock on the door.
Kept her malady a secret from the suiters who were smitten was Lucy Lee.
She rapidly dives from insanely happy to a blubbering withering sad little me.
Keep it to yourself her parents told her sisters and brothers and often too.
They wanted to get her married off, and sent off to Detroit, Miami or Timbuktu.
Lucy was an outgoing miss, as introverted as a wallboard in a cupboard.
She could go from zero to sixty in a flash said her neighbor Mrs. J. Hubbard.
The suiters who dated her more than once fled as if chased by a gator.
The one whose mother acted the same crazy way, married Lucy Lee later.
No ladies, these bugs, not quite.
Asian lady beetles
Little thugs: they like to bite!
—————
An American 767, like a haiku, and must include a reference to a bug
"But love's a malady without a cure. ~ John Dryden"
Love is indeed a malady, greatest malady of all
Since birth we all whine for love
And exclusive love we want from others.
All for love wars have been fought,
endless crime happens
Acids are thrown, rapes occur, murder is done....
Many suffer from depression
But what is love?
How many of us are certain?
Selfish wish to be pampered obeyed and served when young
Selfish desire to acquire someone charming and good
Desire to be the most important in eyes of someone
Desire to be loved and cared
Is this love I ask?
Love is divine blissful feeling
Which is positive and joy giving
Deep desire to see someone happy
To serve that person the best of our ability
Without thinking of oneself
Absolutely no desire, wants, expectations
Only wishing to give without any desire to receive
Such is true love
Mostly parents exhibit it
In name of love, to acquire it
Millions are sad on earth
Love is indeed the greatest malady on earth.
Premier contest winner 6th position
Date: 10/14/2020
Contest Name Quotable
Sponsor Regina McIntosh
"Love is a lady for which there is no cure." John Dryden
Love is a malady for which there is no cure.
Some endure a bitter pill.
They dare to love,
Seeking Heaven's benevolence.
But the pains of eros
Outweigh its gain.
Love is a malady for which there is no cure.
Alluring is the hope of pleasure.
For this a wounded soul will risk,
Seeking a glorious romance.
Though the heart breaks,
And the heart will never end.
Quotable Poetry Contest
October 10, 2020
Regina McIntosh
hoisted hankerings puke
nauseating vying view
lofty lust yawns
puncturing pulpy lawn
twain tainted tune
mystic melody prune
rusty riffs blush
under octave's touch
callous crescendoes' crush
smirking pitch pitches
gaunt glissando clinches
birthing sumptuous A6
tuning atmosphere tenses
malady melts music.
'20:01:30:06:18
Can’t function without it
The conjunctional life
And punctures confounding
A subjugal strife
My endurance depleting
My inevitable fallacies
Determined to beat this
Chemical malady
but
Deep down in the ditch
Is where I feel safe
Weak in the grips
Of insanity’s embrace
You can’t lift me out
Try as you may
Insipid, I pout
Is this where I’ll stay?
(Written 09/17/2018)
Human Malady
Everything has it's time
When an event is ripe
Nothing can elude it
As the chiming of a clock
Designates a specific time of day
So events in our lives
Yesterday is history
Today is here, alive with us
Tomorrow is pregnant, unknown
No matter our escapade, life goes on
We have a task, not to be bogged down
By events, negative or positive
It is a malady all mortals must live through.
And, if we are strong enough
Bearing in mind, as we know
The weather has many different seasons
Every season has it's timing
Then, we can be sure
To go through life's maladies prepared.
The malady
Knocks on my door
The hall is empty and bleak
Dark doors keeping secrets
I tape a spoon against a wine glass
Its plinks sings from room to room
Looks for and outlet
Settles like dust on book shelf
As residues of unspoken words
I hear children in the street jubilant voices
Pain subsides
Get out of my chair slowly, a battle won
I walked into a room full of sinners and saints
and saw a dozen representations of me
Some were shackled by the same temporal constraints
from which the rest were utterly free
Together, they constituted one greater whole
that encompassed the essence of man
Like letters on the papyrus of an unfurled scroll
Like feathers on a falcon's wingspan
What is a sinner but a saint in repose?
What is a saint but a sinner renewed?
What a beautiful malady the two compose
The crucible of their melody is the amplitude
Listen to this naysayer,
Where thee never meets his course,
Deny deny deny,
Nein nein nein as the Germans say,
His heart is hard like a stone,
He battles with his own emotions,
That lead his head topsy-turvy,
He's ill tempered,
Loathsome bipolar they call him,
Mixture of poisons stifle his heart,
Where no words venture in that dark cavern cold,
Love never thrives in it,
This malady is left untreated,
Till the day he carries it to his grave.
A malady of the mind
Dominates the will
As the surging river
Overruns the mill
Omnipotent craving
The bullpen cannot hold
A temptation unremitting
Annulling principle
No affection or reason
Or threat of penalty
Can possibly deter - or -
Potentiate the will
Pouring rain for days
Pools of water all around
Scarce drinking water!
Absolute distress, living in darkness,
Trust His perfect ways to cure,
Anticipate sickness !
Written on 19/6/14
Kimo - 10/7/6
Sponsor- PD A
Contest- A poem not entered in a contest #9
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