He is day's melody
adorned by sun-blessed winds
rich and dark the manly warmth,
he always holds me ,caressing my hours
with spritz of a thousand songs...
Commanding flowers to unfold
the scent of his presence
mingles with that unmistakable
woody musky aroma,
lingering in whiffs of air,
heady and ambrosial
a fragrance natural, not bottled nor diluted
that my ardor burns.
And I become his starlight , his woman
he leans on me for water's sustenance,
with pulses of reverence and wonder.
Somehow , at all times I know.
in a forest of naked trees,
his potent balm protects our nakedness...
It was ours, this spirit...not to be shared
A great dane parading along like royalty
The points made above with info
Show how our accounting rules blow
Though billionaires laugh
They should with their staff
Read this eco manifesto
In the blue souled shadows
lion headed sunflower- head bowed.
light just out of reach
Pixies totally out of touch.
Every moment of everyday
streaked with the smirk of dusk,
In the season of desperation
when needed the most
the rain clouds have blessed
the box canyon again...
with buckets of rapid death
and little hope.
God decides when rescue turns to recovery...
nature's running, brown water joke.
From my Hillview home beside the Ruby Gate,
I watched the blood moon rise,
its red fire spilling across the Bay of Bengal.
The sea turned into a vast mirror of flame,
the mountains stood hushed,
their green shoulders brushed by crimson light.
Karnaphuli flowed like a molten ribbon,
carrying whispers of old songs to the shore.
Not alone on the hill,
I felt the city breathing beneath me,
yet only the moon kept me company.
Its scarlet face leaned close,
as if the heavens bent toward Chittagong.
In that hour,
I was both witness and keeper of the glow.
And with my brother Shimul by my side,
We sealed the night in memory, unforgettable and wide
asteroids descend
lava erupts from below
flood waters sweep clean
leaving traces of its stay
for wildfires to have its way
Stick A Needle
In Your Eye...
It's Natural, Baby!
Pine Needle.
(Wholesome.)
-Gray Squirrel
09-03-2025
They left Southampton with a coal fire down below,
Olympic class of the White Star Line, little did they know.
Irish-built in Belfast, one iceberg was all it took as,
with insufficient lifeboats, the whole wide world it shook.
Departing Queenstown, compartments not all watertight,
unsinkable or so they said, until that tragic night...
(almost a six-day cruise).
She was poorly equipped and, as all good Captains do
(tho' that is not his due), Edward Smith
(and fifteen hundred souls or more)
went down with the ship.
And the band played on as the ship was going down,
were they blind (drunk?), out of their minds,
they were all about to drown.
Some thought 'Bravery,' others, 'Stupidity,'
(altho' cold as ice), I can say, quite categorically,
I would have jumped ship if it were me.
Tho' it's a deep subject, rock-bottom at very best,
the play on Broadway (take a bow) you won't see,
of lost lives and broken hearts
is... 'The Titanic, In Two Parts'.
I ironically found paradise in sitting in a park
With a man who oft prefers sitting in his room so dark.
For us all of the artificial lights are just too stark.
That diamondback with turquoise eye
Beneath the copper colored sky
Is best left there alone to lie
Aware of ev'ry passerby
Commanding it's respect
But lofty prowling also reigns
If not supreme its threat remains
So vigilance is what maintains
The losses equal to the gains
This delicate balance to protect
Each predator will become prey
When stars of night find stars of day
The system was designed that way
To keep the intellect at bay
That would upset that order
LIke most designs it has its flaws
For those who don't respect its laws
And seek to fill rapacious jaws
Displaying disrespectful maws
Which grin within disorder
The snake that lies in plastic grass
The raptor’s flight through prismal glass
Are visions meant not but to pass
As though they were but sheen on frass
Only useful when they’re rent asunder
Philosophers are left to ponder
Why nature would allow this wander
'Tween balance here, disorder yonder
Peacemakers struggle… troublemakers squander
Ill-gotten gains, their rotten plunder
On clumsy day of morning fogg
I woke up to reality
To check my beloved sanity
A stone became the chosen one
It was picked for his services
A hard son of soft rock,
A tough block, a rough block, indeed
Destiny knows his path
Growling wind observed the scenario
First flight took Mr. Stone to few feets
The desire was to Re-release
It left my hand to reach space
My head became a Crater by double pace
The stone lives in my head since then
He was first where the headache begin!
pause to hear a storm
listen to its vast noises
admire its voices
winds that blew in infamy
crackled as romantic fires
state huts wade through muck
spiders and newborns pancaked
trouble from the breeze
it stretched over our tall walls
but into their tenements
furious horses
unimagined violence
warfare wind wallops
nests shaken out by breezes
some people gather again
Global warming is no accident,
it has an ancient antecedent
with one important difference:
That first deluge was by decree,
the one scientists predict will be
by man’s incompetence –
the better word is stupidity.
Why are there so many steps to reach certainty?
To be honest, I wish my roots would let me leave calmly
So much grows fast around me;
I feel like the only tree
Trying to break through the canopy
Searching for sunlight feverishly
But in this shade, I can not see what's hurting me
I just feel the cuts once again creating scars deeply
Autumn comes and her fall opens my eyes wide that she;
Is showing the Lioness whose claws are giving me; a beautiful way to die.
Within the whispered wind, bumble bees
fly their syncopated figure eights.
Praying mantises fall to their knees
…within the whispered winds.
Rich blessings float from heavenly gates
and set kissing dragonflies at ease
before all worldly sorrow abates.
Sunday psalms sung softly in the breeze
settle where the flock congregates.
Hallowed ambience exudes heartsease
…within the whispered wind.
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