You make me think of a city
of spires and minarets
suspended in the purple
focus of a dusk
that seals the bitter bargains
of sinister bazaars
where gems and crystals mingle
the clatter of their light
with dizzying aromas
of saffron, incense, mint,
where silks as pale as moonlight
and red as blood on snow
and blue as desert noons
stain the heavy breeze
that falls through crumbling alleys
and stirs the scented curtains
of richly cushioned chambers
where lacquer, brass, and jade
receive helpless blossoms
of indolence and passion,
while from the far horizon,
beyond the groaning spars
that throw a crazed lattice
across the dying sky,
startled gulls reiterate
their clean, remote despair.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
I’ve kept the bone-ash circle open—
chalked in wax traced from your last reply,
the one you coughed out sideways
between a mirror and an echo,
Just to reiterate, it read.
(Though you’ve unsent it now—
the smoke still mouths it back.)
The salt forgets which door to guard,
whether you're enemy or friend.
My tea leaves knot themselves
into nooses. The knife won’t keep
its edge unless I say your name
with my mouth full of soot. You know
who you are.
We only spoke three times—
I still remember your laugh.
I burned your coat—
the one already nicked at the cuff,
lined with lint and one of my hours.
The smoke limped east,
then circled back.
I still leave the latch loose.
Not for you—
just in case
some ghost with your gait
remembers how
my spine once knocked
like a drum left running.
My friend always says “we need to get together soon”
She is a phone friend.
I remind her that I am not going anywhere unless it is forty degrees.
I am an asthmatic.
Cold air triggers my respiratory infection and pneumonia.
I reiterate this twice during this phone call.
“It’ll be forty degrees tomorrow,” she says.
My pause does not last two seconds.
“I don’t want to,” I reply.
Let’s kill not dying moments of closeness,
This much was destined our togetherness,
Let’s heal our hearts before we separate,
And accept what has been as a fair fate.
You and me met at a fair stage of life,
In milk as if sugar merged joy and strife,
Why not these sweet memories reiterate,
And accept what has been as a fair fate.
If two oil lamps in Ganges were to meet,
They cherish brief moments before retreat,
Let’s flow with destined fate and never fret,
And accept what has been as a fair fate.
Let’s kill not dying moments of closeness,
Let’s accept what has been as a fair fate.
______________________________________
Kyrielle sonnet |09.03.2024| separation
Poet’s note: Based on a Gujarati poem (a Kyrielle, nor a Sonnet) by Kishore Barot
I find inspiration in the rain
Soul-searching while it withers away my tears
There’s no inspiration greater than that of the rain
Small droplets on my windowpane
Slowly caress away my pain
I listen closely to the melody it makes
As it hits my terrain
I find inspiration in the rain
soupçon droplets on my skin…
Lu Xun rhymes begin to reiterate, as it wanes my heavy heart away
There is no inspiration greater than that of the rain
The nation naturally knows
The Nile. The river flows up to the
North and above. The love
Through Sudan and Egypt up and on
The way of the Nile? The
Spiritual Water. It flows. It roars.
Its banks are broad. We in
Africa grow thankfully. For the
Nerves of the Nile. It feeds the
Africa of nations. The sacred
Stations. Though there were
Trials and Tribulations and
Trails of frustrations. The
Efforts to form from this
Nation a festering filth of foreign
Obvious obstruction officially
Outstanding obliteration. That
May cause destruction of this
African paradise BUT...
Next night the Nile might
Regenerate. The trial of the
Nation is on the verge. Nile is
The life. Lets reiterate. The
Day the night the surge. It is
The life. The Nile Floods back to us.
Nile Nation Never
Ending Natural Nuturing Nexus
Stardust. LEGACY the Nile
Survives and strives back to us
How far away is a memory
When we breath with
Cloudy eyes
And why do our organs
Numb our bodies
To the emptiness resting inside
A million tears were swallowed
Whispering your presence
one last time
But a million births were also planned
The day the sun
Fell out the sky.
Talina, your little bro
Wishes he can distill that memory
Of your smile,
your voice
And your sacrifices.
Yes, sacrifices
so giving of themselves,
They reiterate every word
I will sing back to you
With great ferocity
Through tears
And with great love.
An axiom I heard once states:
If you always do
What you've always done,
Then you'll always get
What you always got.
To paraphrase and reiterate:
What's worse,
Waking up one morning
And realizing you're not
What you hoped you'd be,
Or realizing you still are
What you always were?
Tack on this wisdom to round out the plot:
You can only do the best you can,
So remember as you start each day,
Tomorrow hasn't happened yet,
And yesterday is best forgot.
Room With a View
A room with a view of the sea
Where waves roll in with the breeze,
With sunlight invading the place,
Casting shadows of ambivalent grey.
The vista one sees is hard to reiterate
When distance and time co-operate;
In a shrinking world out there in space
To the cataclysm at the edge of the bay.
I hear the echoes of yesterday's callings
like a soft longing from a long ago ghost
The emerald forest of my youth re-appears
at the sight of a midnight cadence;
Mystical night dreams reiterate
like an incantation from long ago,
Forgotten Sepulchers...
Tunnels of earth wind and fire burn my desire
once again, as I perch onto the matrix of solid bark
the silence is almost deafening'
I hear the fairies call with their gentry of good will,
"we guiders of soul have come to take you home"
and as I walk through their fragrant gate,
I know from my heart of hearts, that I belong here
In their forest of dreams .
Our world is but a pane of glass
And I have seen the Grim Reaper
Lift a wearied hand with a stone --
With little restraint to keep her.
For in a dream she showed herself,
Boring her terrible eyes in me,
While neither young nor old, or plain
Or handsome did she choose to be,
But bare of foot and draped in gloom
We stood looking across a road,
I noticing how she was swathed
In the black of night where she strode.
A seamless gown, the same fabric
Crossed atop her head like the sight
One would see the Virgin Mary
Sport beneath a starry crown's light.
But her eyes, her eyes, frightened me
As they locked on mine with intent;
As she started coming my way
With all that she could represent . . .
So, I'll reiterate, our world's
As fragile as our very life,
Where many vandals are at play
With fire and stones of brass at strife
To kill senselessly without thought
And deny we have soul and choice
To save others 'fore it's too late
And a scream becomes every voice.
He has a musical instrument
it plays in his head.
Oft it quack's like an oboe,
oft it moo's like a bassoon;
it's also a violin
dipped into darkness.
When he writes, infant angels
wail, demons bleat like lost lambs.
Orchestrations and variation
upon a common theme reiterate
and reply.
Each instrument
a different note on his piano.
Yes, he has a piano
it thumps, it drums,
sometimes it mews
like a gull riding a storm.
Please clearly print your name
on the front of your mask. Cupid.
(Cupid is having a heck of a time this year. Not to forget all the other mishaps masks are causing. As a public service, I will just reiterate a few -- and please add some to my list as you become aware: CDC has just determined that Masks cause life threatening flatulence; per Fauci's recommendation, Pfizer is developing a new Posterior-mask – asking for volunteers with IBS to participate – Biden promises 100 billion masks by next Thanksgiving – he has issued an Executive Order banning all Chili-fests (Hear that Texas!) – Also, dental colleges in New York and Los Angeles are running dangerous low on masks with automatic floss attachments, Biden promising to order several Billion from reputable Chinese manufacturer in Wuhan. So, we really need to Brain-storm, here at Soup – it is our Civic Duty! Joe.)
I have trained my whole adulthood for the challenge of this day.
The toil and sweat and sacrifice, the monotony of drill,
All those years of manning up to my ambition.
I have wrestled the beast and disciplined my will.
I mean to vanquish my opponent for the golden prize
I'll enter the ring and trust my luck to fate.
I have trained my whole adulthood for the challenge of this day.
When I rise again come dawn, I will reiterate.
Come forth darling
Take your shoes off
Allow me to rub your feet
Letting me pray
Pray for us
I'll place your bare feet in the Nile
Dipping them in the Euphrates River
Come let's embracing together
in front of heaven's gate
I reiterate
Come come forth my darling
Walking on Holy Grounds
Barefoot in all
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