You plunge your fist into the creeping
milieu of the ice cube by your ‘20s daydream.
Does it not hurt? but it does, and you quickly
retreat, surrendering to primal, human instinct.
Your skin is not bland, but sticky with fear and blank
expressions and wistful thinking, you disgust dogs.
Does the rainy tapestry’s ambient face not disturb you?
but it does, and you scratch it until your fingers leak.
In the restaurant with the piano man, he seems nice;
he seems nice; he seems tastier than your empty plate.
Does the melody not enrage you? but it does, and you
plead to your god for one more chance.
On the treadmill, adding the highest speed, you believe
you’re a masochist, but not after a minute; you’re hilariously wretched.
Does your love of ghosts not riddle your spleen with blahs?
but it did; you lay in your hollow sheets, your grandmother called.
Sordid, vizier’s fool; starry faces tickle the curves of your ears;
ha ha
ha ha
they can’t scathe you if you get off on laughing at yourself.
Written: May 14, 2023
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your dewdrops are bedazzling on dunes,
Hides enticing sparks so haphazardly fumes.
Your eyes, akin to honey, exude an inner charm,
Love embraced your fragility with supple calm.
My love, time has tainted your obsession,
Captivating every pulse is magnetic affection.
Your aesthetic evokes divine Greek magic,
Dazzling draws blithely on peaks, ecstatic.
Enduring aromas soothe my random fondness,
Pushily puzzled by odd bond built by oddness.
Magic is real yet scary as seconds tick by.
Fear incites harm as sharp shards cry.
Prayers to all those trapped in this maze.
No one is or is meant to be scathe or graze.
Mist emitted by crashing waves may stay.
"It is only me," I whisper as tears of hope dry.
I wish I had a straight line to heaven,
I’d ask God a question or two.
With all of these different beliefs,
I wonder just what we should do.
Is it ok to read stories to our children,
like the old tale of green eggs and ham.
How about the ugly duckling,
or the legendary Sam I am.
With each life that is brought into this world,
how do you see them from above.
Why do some abandon their children,
while others give them unending love.
How can some drugs have more value,
than poor Billy or sweet little Ann?
What exactly are your thoughts on this world,
and its religion, organized by man.
These are just a few of my questions,
they’ll be answered one day, I have faith.
Until then please dwell in my heart,
and forgive me for causing any scathe.
The sun shines bright on the valley of my heart.
Where once innocence thrived, now torn apart,
Betrayed by those I whim I could trust,
Left alone and lonesome, consumed by unjust.
But in the midst of the darkness, I find a flicker of hope.
A ray of light that helps me to cope,
With the pain and scathe that I feel inside,
A reminder that I have the strength to stride.
I walk through the valley with tears in my eyes.
But I realize that I'll reach it; I'll rise above the lies.
I am strong and I am brave.
And I won't let my heart be a slave.
So I face the future with a sense of determination.
To rebuild my life and my reputation,
To find fresh love and true joy,
And leave behind the valley of my heart's destroy.
Up near the peak of Rockies,
Me and my limbs live in frigid cold,
The mountain seems to be frozen in time,
Being a petrified tree, I am frozen in stone.
As I ascended to the heavens,
I had to leave my earthly leaves behind,
I could have been a towering blue spruce in the valley,
Up here I am a diminutive figure amongst towering peaks.
The seasons change without changing my mood,
The fall does not mean anything for my bare limbs,
The winter snow and avalanche do not shiver my rocky bones,
The spring bloom brightens the valley but leaves me for dead stone.
When I have achieved such a high perfection,
The clouds and lighting can hardly scathe my tranquil position,
My soul has achieved its golden ambition,
I love being petrified as nothing can change my imagination.
I'll read you in stars, for my last supper.
I follow you in blooms and clouds, today
I Hear your breezeways, you're time wrapper
I'll read you in stars, for my last supper.
I taste you in my mind with grave pucker
Verses stay, wounds scathe, Poet turns to clay.
I'll read you in stars, for my last supper.
I follow you in blooms and clouds, today.
Written: May 10, 2023
An abnormal desire
to scathe and to kill.
If we all let them
they can and they will.
More About Hate
Miracle man
5/16/2022
Hate has never been a one way street,
targeted at a belief, or color bound.
It’s sometimes found to be discreet,
and allowed to fester it will compound.
Today, many hearts are filled with hate,
and each sunrise it seems to worsen.
It’s presence will surely seal our fate,
let’s “despise the act but not the person”.
Hate is the bull that no person can ride,
Hate pollutes the water where we bathe.
Hate burns only the house where we reside,
and its only our heart that it will scathe.
Swashing waves and swimming fish who don’t cry
The sun shining her rays on the ocean
A massive fish stared to the ocean’s sky
Seeing the sun’s distorted reflection
The fish proudly made a proclamation
“Behold, the sun, the everlasting light
Bow down to him whose great rays give you sight”
So every fish and crustacean bowed down
Not knowing that it’s just a phantom so bright
Sending the doubtful to the deep to drown
Swashing waves and swimming fish ripening
The smallest fish, filled up with zealous faith
Leaped straight out the vast water like lightning
Shattering through the blue sky with no scathe
Seeing the pure sun in splendour, no wraith
In fleeting despair and soon coming bliss
Due to the sight of the true and lone disk
He told his tale on an abyssal plain
To his close friends in secret with much risk
Hoping to see her splendour once again
The ocean calls out to me tonight,
For it feels lonely.
And here I am feeling homesick again,
Nostalgia suffocates me as I taste the rain.
The blue in it is but my ink,
The depth in my eyes is but the sea.
The sea bed longs to feel my skin,
I yearn to scathe myself with the grains akin.
Starless skies are replete with fog,
Waves will draw constellations in my tresses tonight.
I'll come undone, with every tide,
Breathless and brazen, wanton and wild.
With remnants of moon on my chest,
I will hide in the nihility.
With the sun tomorrow, I shall rise,
But, the ocean calls out to me tonight.
-Amrita Jha
When I emerged from that rough sea
I wore a crown of seaweeds in my hair
Because the mermaids whispered to me,
"Our home, please do take care"
I looked around and saw rocks
Staring horribly at me, yelling silently,
"Stop wrecking us! Stop the clocks!"
I felt the gentle pushing of a tiny wave
Tugging my feet, as if shooing me away
I heard its cry, or was I just deceived?
"Go home, don't scathe me."
Nauseated, I blinked faster as I might,
In a split second, blinded by the raging sunlight.
A stranger called me sweet tonight
couldn't help but smile,
For I was down with a frown then
suddenly worthwhile.
With no scathe he brought some faith
pondered his intent,
Though then he left and I felt blessed
from a compliment.
Will pass it on now he's gone
to bring another gladness,
Human beings with all good means
to rise above the sadness.
~20th April 2021~
In the Forest of Dreams,
in the realm of wishful stories,
that are sometimes fable-like,
that we only find logical while asleep,
we walk within a sunlit land
that sprouts slender chartreuse limbs
erected from kiwi soft hues,
rooted in immaculate Fertility.
In the Forest of Dreams,
we weave themes of desire,
of schemes, of memory.
We awake and wish they were reality.
Or we are grateful to emerge, from sleep,
for we might have just witnessed
ourselves within a light dove grey tomb
circular like eternally connected lines,
that change hue with the wind and rain,
that etch a new terrain; that rot a face.
In the Forest of Dreams a gold dust wish is fulfilled.
A Spirit sifts the glitter on the surface
of a sea at noon, a lake in the evening;
of diamond snow, of a body jeweled, pinueting.
To feel the inception of a star's light,
to reach for life as a spiraling arm of our galaxy.
To turn and fold our colorful petals
into our core, soft and full of nectar.
To realize in the Forest of Dreams
our hands can touch the sun,
without scathe; without annihilation;
we can stoke the flames, we can burn.
Reign on high in multitudes, comfortably placed on golden thrones,
Protected by unpigmented flesh, hatred resonated in their bones,
Waiting to persecute the impure.
Bloody battles with brotherhoods, side by side with unshakable faith,
United kinship with sisters too, sharing scars of punishment and scathe,
Remaining strong to always endure.
Begotten from the same roots, human species were God’s reflection,
Sin defiled the ignorant minds, judging skin with no tinge of conviction,
Racism spreads without any cure.
(Tail-Rhyme Stanza)
08/07/2020
Riots and chaos chastised by our kin.
More sibling rivalry taken right on the chin.
We need to wake up and pull our heads from the ground.
The hatred of past is still all around.
Keep love in your heart and never lose faith.
Do your part in these times and never cause scathe.
Please forgive me my God and the part that I’ve played.
Please cast down your light and help to persuade.
We all have thrown stones in our self-righteous ways.
I now see the light and the error of my ways.
From this day forward I will no longer disrespect.
We are all created equal in every aspect.
Related Poems