A stream, searching its limits, laps the bank.
Water falls gently over a small dam.
Fish nip at flotsam in usual prank,
And find protein at weight less than a gram.
All's well and calm in this country setting
A whiff of wind shuffles a nearby tree,
Yet the shallow banks soon will be letting
Gallons of overflow to be set free.
Soft water's whispers now shriek in a scream.
A precipice grips the liquid off-guard.
It spills its mass in a powerful stream
Down to twirling whirlpool's cold disregard.
So, as the Crazy Train hits the last stop
down that long Randy Rhode,
let's gather in the dining car,
put a fork in the War Pig,
and feast on bat heads.
RIP Prince of Darkness.
What killed the Cat was not ‘Curiosity’
~ ‘Twas the ferocity of the Rat
A crimson sky breaks the distant shore,
The village Elder telling a story of folklore,
The children laugh and play joyfully,
Their laughs echoing happily,
The mothers hold their babies close,
Families sitting by the fire, with the ones they love most,
Nearby owls listen in a tree,
“Cloaked by the night, they’re not scared, they’re free”,
A distant howl, travels to their ears,
They ought to be frightened, but they haven’t in years,
They know they are safe, they respect the wildlife,
They no longer sharpen the blades of their knife,
The moon is high in the sky,
The feast is over for that night,
The villagers have a smile upon their face,
Excited for the next gathering in a few days.
Long ago, there were the halcyon days
we once knew when we were young -
gone like dollar matinees
when from tree branches we swung.
I remembered the dire words of song,
that said changes in the weather
are often known to come on strong,
as I watched the dark clouds gather.
You tell me that this storm has passed,
but should this howling wind prevail,
a martyr, I won't be miscast -
watch a battered heart set sail.
Professor: Setting is inducing trust that as a writer you are not volatile, nor giving lesser detailed thought about those knick knack, mundane also. can you give me an example Johny?
Johny: Certainly , can I ask the narrator type?
professor: say, camera setting...
Johny : genre?
professor : prose poem, light hearted or serious, both will do.
Johny : here you go....I bought floss and Hydrogen per oxide from the nearby pharmacy. I wanted to pick up my medicine too, but they were reluctant, altogether, seemingly so. I had to bypass.
professor : why so?
Johny: the only audible sound was a song..."when you say nothing at all."
Surely , verily a cranky setting! tired too!
As the counseling session was declaring, they begin as a parent asleep, raise them up asleep and send them to school asleep. Dreams ahoy!
The sun setting in horizon
Is like a deep sunken eyes
Looking beyond the sight grazing
As its rays too many lining
Penetrating the farthest outreach
Only to find its beauty fading
Like the beauty of woman waning
As age also waning its chances
Too gone are days of youngness
So sun setting is life's ending.
The setting sun weaves a poem,
blossoming
unsung trochaic along the river basin
(Nurulhuda Junction. Teesta)
Sometimes it feels quite an estranged thought to realise that living is a mundane day to day thing to sustain. The welfare causes are demanding all those intricate , subtle personal delicate feelings, into a powermonger possessive expositional ownership, for no good understood parameter.
The book was well versed. Muzzammil was lying on his bed, half awakened. He took his glass pairs off. A pair of opaque spectacles, with the littlemost effort, both the bifocal parts are often sweaty. He was waiting for his wife’s special morning tea, everyday. Remote area in the suburban side, every day newscaster is often quote a belated story there.
December, 2025
Ogden Nash penned these two lines
‘How odd of God
to choose the Jews’
My reply across the times
‘God would never choose
~ a people who would lose’
The gentle glow of candlelight
A glass of champagne to uplift my spirit
The hypnotic strains of Mozart in the background
Moonlight streaming through the open window
A soft breeze caressing my skin
Transport me to a romantic mood
When sweet poetry flows through my pen..
Out of the autumnal cold you arrive,
humbly individuals and families come in.
We're setting the linen table,
your burdensome famish ends here.
Feast with thanksgiving and God's Gospel. ~
The setting sun
Can eastward turn no more
Nor recent path retrace
To blaze again
Throughout some re-run day
Nor spring-fresh leaf
Relive its glory
In autumn frost
Nor waning flower
Remake its beauty pure
To live again
The splendour of its perfect hour.
And who of man
Can turn the clock of time
To tread once more
The ways of years gone by
To live again a moment gone
An hour
A day
A lifetime fixed beyond control.
So help me, Lord
To live this moment
Just for you
For all I have is now.
John Puckett
Every single Arab death in Gaza
is attributable to HAMAS
Aided and abetted by Iran
Russia, and Mahmoud Abbas
First Hamas butchers, rapes, and kidnaps
thousands of Jews and others
Then its ‘brave warriors’ use as human shields
their so-called ‘Palestinian brothers’
When Israel dares fight back
‘Ceasefire now!’ Hamas whines
Demanding Israel release Palestinian murderers
while it (Hamas) keeps its hostages under tight confines
Today's 'potd' blames Israel for the genocide
that HAMAS perpetrates on both Israeli and Arab sides
I had lost my way and felt all alone.
On a delivery mission near the end of my route,
some 25 to 30 miles from the shop, but it felt farther.
Every part of my being was being tossed about.
No phone, GPS, or internet; nor did I have a map.
I was lost, and there wasn't a soul in sight.
I parked and sat; thought and worried for a spell.
The 'feel of lostness' was saturating my soul.
I knew that my destination was West, but I had
lost my bearings and did not know what to do.
It was approaching late afternoon, and the sun
came to mind. So, I looked toward the fiery star
and followed the setting sun until I was reassured
that I was headed home. I had found my way.
The never setting sun paints my garden gold,
your care for me blooms in the adoring arms.
Sapphire luster shines in your happy eyes
with the sparkling delight of glowing love.
A drop of joyful tear caught in your eye,
flashes like the dawn’s luring pearl of dew,
with the flicker of longing for me.
The view takes me to the hold of trance,
as time for me stops to flow…
37 second pause
I feel in your embrace the warmth of blue sea,
as I float on rolling waves of your affection.
I wish I remain held always in your arms,
and to the bay of bliss I keep on drifting…
Related Poems