Short Processions Poems

flares on earth
    tweak the heavens

  the scream of sirens ~
    blood-stained processions...

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Christmas is a time
Of many traditions
Like carol singing
With candle lit processions

But not anymore
A years old tradition
Has to had to go
For fear of litigation

“Health and safety”
So gets on my wick
As this year we had
Carols by glow stick...

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Great black clouds
Clot the blood-red sky, 
Pink stained shadows
Where daylights go to die.
Candlelit processions 
In valley ways awake,
Trickle waxen grief
Onto valley lake,
Threading bright the promise
Though choir has ceased refrain, 
Holding back the night
That dawn should come again....

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You may have already noticed her-
she's not capturable, 

even this planet sacrifices life to see inside,

oceans and season...

They arrive and fail you,

nothing emits strength like her-

you wanted processions,

and rituals,

and adherence,

even truth,
but got this,
one photo of proof...

Wire women is beautiful,
she is killer bliss......

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out to walk 
my dachshund and me
a gray streak is all you see
passersby in daily parade
me, the dog and gator aide 

silver haired streams 
seniors roam
travelled trails lead from the home
pastel processions in vestal white
naughty nighties in plain sight 

minus a mass 
memory lapse 
bathroom breaks and after naps
seniors pass in parade
dashing like a barefoot brigade...

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SWELLS THAT COMPEL

the fall moon's lull shows
mystique silence across skies
branches shadow dance

rice seedling patch strewn
upon well-plough watered fields--
globular tummies

from my bikini 
to quilted silk evening wraps --
chrysanthemum blooms

rainbow processions
passing through cities thru-fare --
church bells count the mass

(c)Olive Eloisa
6:50am
August 18, 2014...

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Elopement through the dry heart
One nightfall
Or the flower
I seize

In the pungent processions
Of the winter dew
The lamppost cries for
The enlightenment

In the field of epoch-making poetry
The whispers shout
For  a loving verse

With the dawn awakening
The eyes loitering for 
A peaceful sleeping

Freedom becomes
Yellow envelope of
Never reaching


©Mahtab Bangalee
9th January, 2025...

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That the heart
always be a poet
to leaflet beauty
around the world...
That always prescribe
joy as a deep medicine...
That it is always done
safe way,
perpetual...
So be it
walker of all
the places and streets...
To teach love
to all, in all
nooks and crannies...
express itself
always abundant,
profuse in verse
and kisses...
May it always be
student, lover,
in the marches and
processions...!...

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Summer rains drenching fearlessly the panicked city
April breezes touching silently the heart of loving prithee

Not alone in this garden of worldly processions
With laughing and weeping life in crowded adorns

I'm seeing the eternal rising sun through your eyes
Far stars flowering the impending paths of joys

Let the Autophagy win in the consumerist worlds
Let the world be filled with united humane pearls

26.04.2020 (Chattogram City)...

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Mother Earth
she's treated  with contempt she's used without a thought
we take her prize processions and leave her scarred and horribly deformed 
We strip her of her dignity and all her is  finery removed 
We poison and pollute her then wonder why she's ill
We fight over who owns her but she should be free to all
We cover her in concrete destroying other creatures homes
we must be really very stupid, as we will only ever get one mother earth....

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Demands come
Frequently to me;
Dead I’m not
But die suddenly!

It’s a life 
On the mundane stage
For getting marry

Subsequently the roses 
Dying in processions
Scary, hurry 

Before the cawing of the crow
I heard the sound of falling tears
After the sun awakening
All demands become bared 

In the sperm of time
Blood pressure pays silence,
Prayer of the third sky
Blind justice at a glance 



© Mahtab Bangalee
August 02, 2021
Chattogram...

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The processions of mind reach their peak
But something more one can seek
Of beyond continuum force I speak
Treasure in its essence unique

Smell of rose hips jam carried by dreamy haze
Its sweet fragrance nose will amaze
In a dream it is a phase
As if setting dreaming spirit a blaze

The reason why this force is something to extol
Is if from the point of view of spirit you put them all
Behind this gate behind this transparent wall
There is true and perhaps absolute essence of the very soul...

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