Musings on the façade of Seville Cathedral
How patiently they suffer, these old saints!
Their sandstone features, crumbled, vague,
some noses gone (some medieval ague,
or Time's cruel drip?) they offer no complaints.
Stranded seven centuries on this reef,
they bake, and wait resignedly, begowned,
for bell-tower shade slowly to inch around.
Do bas-reliefs experience relief?
This church was once a mosque. In point of fact,
the holy ancient venerable Gothic pile
(and here one struggles to suppress a smile)
has relatively recently been sacked,
and only lately put to Christian use.
These saintly faces, preternaturally mild -
do they still fret? Or are they reconciled
to slow decay, as hand or ear works loose?
And do they savour time as you or I,
observing how, below them in the street,
perukes give way to pony-tails and pleats?
Or do, for them, Septembers flicker by
like squandered seconds? Do they muse on Fate
and Destiny? What if my youth has gone?
What if this woman keeps me hanging on?
They also serve who only stand and wait.
________________________________________
Life Changing
In these quiet woods, as shadows spread,
Timorous leaves whisper my secrets to the breeze.
A sentinel of time I am among the malus trees.
My roots run deep in my seed’s homestead.
--
I stir under the warm sun anew.
My blossoms blooming bouquets of pink petals fair,
I stand in beauty, unaware.
Unbidden but welcome, Spring has made its debut.
--
My branches grow branches, my leaves bear blades.
The bees buzzing come, a swarming tinnitus hum,
My stigma swipes their pollen, my honey glands reward their plumb.
Such is the dance of life, out of sight, in the shade.
----
Sated with Spring and Summer, exhaustion nears,
Pink petals pass. Unadorned leaves leave their color green for brown
And softly, gently, resignedly, flutter down,
Dumb in their final moments in the breeze’s tears.
----
Myself, in those moments, stark and bare, I ponder life.
Its fleeting fare seems awkwardly unfair to the fruit I bore, the leaves I shed,
My issue are now numbered among the dead.
But my roots still run deep, insulated from the strife.
---
A sentinel of stone I am among the malus trees.
Cell phones came, replaced your watch,
Resignedly you just watched;
Took away your alarm clock,
You shrugged and to your way walked;
Next, it eyed your camera,
You: ka mera, ka mera!
Then came daily calendar,
You knew just to surrender.
Should next be your family,
Would you still watch by idly?
___________________________________
Ka mera: Hindi, for ‘what’s in there for me?’
Happenings |05.06.2023| humour
Peaches have blossomed,
My heart has been doomed,
Your smile has my reality zoomed,
Towards your scarlet lips that I groomed.
Chasing your shadows blindly,
Hiding in your dark resignedly,
Glancing at how you smile divinely,
Looking at your dancing hair sublimely.
Following you in the dark,
Closing your ears to have people bark,
Living in your shadow as a worthless rock,
And hearing your syllables as of a lark.
Making my mind numb,
Having my heart splutter to crumb,
Letting down all my hopes with a hum,
You will be the only one to whom I will succumb.
Just light a candle and watch it
flicker in silence
Rest an elbow on long proven
neglect
And stroll resignedly along
the same width of spiteful
zero sums
A step away enthralls a din
Just roil its sensitivity until
it shreds itself
Align your boundaries,
to strip them bare
And turn that din into a funnel-shaped
and infinite sigh
(Idle musings on the facade of Seville Cathedral)
How patiently they suffer, these old saints!
Their sandstone features, crumbled, vague,
some noses gone (some medieval ague,
or Time's cruel drip?) they offer no complaints.
Stranded seven centuries on this reef,
they bake, and wait resignedly, begowned,
for bell-tower shade slowly to inch around.
Do bas-reliefs experience relief?
This church was once a mosque. In point of fact,
the holy ancient venerable Gothic pile
(and here one struggles to suppress a smile)
has relatively recently been sacked,
and only lately put to Christian use.
These saintly faces, preternaturally mild -
do they still fret? Or are they reconciled
to slow decay, as hand or ear works loose?
And do they savour time as you or I,
observing how, below them in the street,
perukes give way to pony-tails and pleats?
Or do, for them, Septembers flicker by
like squandered seconds? Do they muse on Fate
and Destiny? What if my youth has gone?
What if this woman keeps me hanging on?
They also serve who only stand and wait.
The girl stepped out her face amok
With lurid colors, set to shock
Four others came with mal intent
Hoods up, sinister, a desire to torment
Jeering voices in the dank of this night
Adrenaline flowing at this time of fright
The bent old woman down the road
They're stalking her dim abode
That sad old witch alone in her house
Where she sits as quiet as a mouse.
Gothic shapes adorn the outside
They're statues and a good place to hide.
Dared painted girl sets to at the door
It's hammered and kicked until limbs are sore
No sign of her, the night retains its hush
Feeding their frenzy, then out they rush
From the shadows and occultic bush
Their ghoulish prank has really begun
They'll crack the windows, break the doors
The widow resignedly braves the boors
Contorting their faces in leering pose
She removes the sun glasses from her nose
Their fate is sealed as they succumb to fear
Broad beams from eyes that continue to peer
Now gray in color, the stand affixed
Immortalized in stone, she is transfixed
More statues to add to her collection
She'll look at them with morbid affection
Last night while I was watching the TV,
The screen and whole house went completely dark.
A bald eagle had hit electric wire,
Causing a deadly and disastrous arc.
Grumbling much about the inconvenience
I resignedly went to an early bed,
Not knowing that the noble, soaring bird
Had hit the unseen wire and now lay dead.
This bird that we claim to admire and love,
The symbol of our own beloved nation
Is only safe if he stays far away
From a thoughtless human's habitation.
Only yesterday his beauty stole my breath
Today I mourn his most untimely death.
Through the shadows and valleys I have traveled
There were times my life seemed to come unraveled
Now some pieces of my past I've put behind me
No longer satisfied to live resignedly
I have realized my worth and know my heart
So I'm waiting for this new chapter to start
With a rush of wisdom coming from within
I can feel that something big will soon begin
Been prepared for this and it's long overdue
Filled with hope and I know I've thought it through
So just bring it on and give me all you got!
Here's the life and love that I have so long sought
As the lights die down in this old town
I sit and sip my beer;
Self-consciously I wear a frown
On the loneliest night of the year.
The revelry spills over distant hills
As the midnight hour looms;
Resignedly I raise my glass
To toast the lovelorn tombs.
For the buried days of all her ways
Seem to animate in my head;
Despondently I plead them live
And come back from the dead.
The sweetest face I cannot replace
With an ocean of spirits and wine;
Convulsed with tears, I taste her mouth
And grieve for she was mine.
Acting tough is never enough
And neither is alcohol;
Unfulfilled I fall to bits
For she who meant it all.
I sit and stare at an empty chair
And find that I believe
In self-destructive self-pity
On this coldest New Year’s Eve.
The fire goes out and I fully doubt
That the passing of a year
Might signify some bright new hope
For love and life and cheer.
I will drink some more then hug the floor
With nothing else to do;
For nothing is all I have become,
Nothing without you…
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