Short Interned Poems

Edward Bawden's graphic art
had Bardfield village at its heart
Also an artist of WW2 
captured, interned& lost from view...

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In a shallow grave
Behind a big old whitewashed house
where a tattered flag still waves
beside a small cross made with staves
and in the wood, clearly carved
with the spirit of devolution
states, "Here interned today
Lies the US Constitution "...

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Race you till the starting gun
No stone interned
All secrets bared
Pursuing Love

Meet you on the other side
Of the winning line
With time to spare
Devoid of care

Sleep beside you
Stare into your eyes
Wear you like a prize

These are lovers lies
That lead to war and crimes...

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What if this was my last brew, blow,
last blathering scribbling,
unfinished, tragically abandoned
because of a faithless unforeseen?

Would I be content, or bent backwards?
What good would any high stilts do me then
and how many blind mice
must be interned
within a never ending last breath?...

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On this night 
a singular vow is born
No longer shall I grind my harvest...
In pain the hunger 
shall abound
for atonement to cease
At once
this breeze is torn,
through words this stream is shorn
Your cheers are interned within
a peeved facade
In contrast,
I shall hide my design
until this soil dries...

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I was fixed in front of my parent's grave.
They were quiet as the tomb was interned.
There were only two people that were brave.
I was fixed in front of my parent's grave.
We have no soothing words or blooms to save
They shared their emotions, and I feel burned.
I was fixed in front of my parent's grave.
They were quiet as the tomb was interned.

Written: May 10, 2023...

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YOUR NAME

My Spirit sings
every time I hear your Name
what a beautiful thing,-
when it happened in Spring,
the moment you interned in my life
I had never felt the same,
Yes, I will give you all the blame
because I don’t feel ashamed,-
I will keep calling out your Name,
I will never let you go,
you are the keeper of my soul
I will always love you.

Poetic Judy Emery © 1999
The Queen Of Darken Dreams Poetic Lilly Eme...

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I was waiting,
the moon dance will start now.
Night was softly purring
near the damp thighs of hills
in happy valley.

Day was wasted
in prowling for silver spoons.
The hushed memories of hot summer
will criss-cross my thoughts,
food of soul, for hungry.

The life finally accepts the defeat
before passions, interned forever.
You keep holding the truth till last breath
and walk away from glory of songs,
reaching nowhere.

I don’t belong to me.


SATISH VERMA...

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Embracing poetry, is like entering the monastery, 
From his DNA chemistry till interned into cemetery; 
The ravages of both love and hate, 
Could leave him shivering at heavens gate. 
Heady opium and mirrors, to the sea and the stars, 
Going on a joyride in some expensive cars. 
A good poet is someone the world adores, 
The rest off course are nothing but bores. 
While the fury of spasms that he evokes, 
Cannot be assimilated by some unread blokes. 

Prince Freakasso(Artist & Poet)...

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