Wading in the river, shining hook wrapped, the flyfisherman casts
but the fish just stare at his lure, for a fly does not enter a closed mouth.
At the breakfast table everyone passes the pitcher of cream.
Mother puts a napkin over the top, for a fly does not enter a closed mouth.
Flying down the freeway, motorcycle roaring
we have our helmets on, for a fly doesn’t enter a closed mouth.
Daddy puts his sons before him asking about the mess.
The brothers just look at each other, for a fly doesn’t enter a closed mouth.
The bridesmaid isn’t smiling for the bride, when they say ‘I do’;
she’s stifling a giggle, for a fly does not enter a closed mouth.
Categories:
romani, angst,
Form: Ghazal
Clean and minty
Plump pink or receding
Capped, implanted, or real
A whistle through gaps
Metal brackets and stretchy rubber bands
Drool on a white cotton pillow case in the dead of night
Twitchy lies and storied gossip, save,
For a fly does not enter a closed mouth.
Categories:
romani, irony,
Form: Blank verse
Gossip needs another route
to flow east, west, north and south.
Best not to let what you know out,
for a fly does not enter a closed mouth.
8/7/19
Romani Proverb Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward
Categories:
romani, perspective,
Form: Monorhyme
Gypsy soul born a wandering way
Bearer of passion age old and new
Who can tame your unbridled day
And live as Romani's do
Calloused hands speak not complaint
Who's bearings steer by twilights cue
A leisured life such charm forsake
To walk as Romani's do
To bitter end thine heart defend
For right to prove love true
Un-soulful touch could not pretend
To love as Romani's do
To give not weight to emotions sway
Is a labyrinth worth stumbling through
So lonesomeness owns not the day
To cry as Romani's do
A gypsies search to revel in spoils
In solitudes song or convivial crew
Between extremes it's harmony joins
To sing as Romani's do
Coursed by vein to entertain
An artists heart steeped and brewed
Banjara kuchi meets tambourine
To dance as Romani's do
Mysterious eyes tint hardened lives
Breeding bonds so deep and few
To be a part of this honored tribe
And die as Romani's do
The gypsies way one does not choose
It's spirit inborn and it grew
From India's caves to the vagabond strays
A Romani remains forever on the move
Categories:
romani, art, culture, passion,
Form: Quatrain
Skirts swirl around her like colors in a kaleidoscope
Her feet move like they always knew the steps
The disks on her ankles tink and chime against each other
The music of her moves is more intoxicating than the colors in her skirt
But her beauty, Oh! That is so much more
With skin like satin clover honey
Hair as rich as cured mahogany, with eyes dark as any abyss
All it takes is one lash filtered look to cut him to the quick
Lips ripe and pink whispering possibilities
Hot breath on his ear is his undoing
Arms long reaching into to soft palms that flex to slender fingers
Each light touch gives him just enough hope
She may leave this band, this warm beautiful caravan of family
And be a gadjo’s wife
He falls asleep each night with colors swirling
Music enchanting, and hope ever present
that her invigorating love will come to him.
Categories:
romani, history, lost love, passion,
Form: Free verse