Short Snaring Poems

the crow is cawing 
on the perch of silky morning
dream snaring the sleep
waken stars going to life
light of activeness wins dark 


© Mahtab Bangalee
Chattogram
31/08/2021...

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delicate ruffled
rose colored geraniums
snaring honey bees

lasting all summer
lifting faces to the sun
glorifies the yard

bordering garden
a fairy like loveliness
lasting one season...

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Leaving them hopeless
Breaking their spirit
animals sometimes
humans other times
puts them in cages
torments their souls
soulless monsters
imprisoning
setting a trap
capturing
enslaving
kidnapping
tricking
snaring
hunt...

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In the Horizon Blue
Soars a lone Kite
Hope rises anew 
Ascend of the sun
Pale Soft Hue
Snaring all unspoken words
Awe-inspiring dream
Of your captivating beauty
Open your heart
See through your soul 
Merry Christmas love you all - Ashek...

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Expressive plum-tipped lips have cursed the fog
enchanting senses- snaring drifting minds
the petaled blush within the mist of Northwood bogs
is fair Calypso dancing there amidst the sheets
her scent a whispering tale that held agog-
a gallant hero like Odysseus....

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Mind in the fetal position contemplating
Rosicrucian Cosmo Conception-Theory
seen on the back of a crackerjacks box
with no prize inside.

all they offered was to arrange
a meeting of the minds
so i went, 
and you stayed back with Thomas.

So there i stood, lying down,
asleep, counting sheep,
that were wide awake.

Belly buttons of giants
full of lint-
traps snaring, finger prods
along the shores of the mind....

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Songs found together,
Lost in the ether,
Never again to be heard.
Back in their cases,
Tied up with laces,
Memories captured , like birds.

Turn radio off,
A flame for a moth,
Sad, genial melodies.
They fissure my heart,
And hold me apart,
Snaring with sweet harmonies.

Anthems of love,
lost like a glove,
Just one half still listening.
These tunes heard alone,
Don't have any soul,
They no longer mean a thing.

31 Aug 2011...

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While delaying gratification, 
you stripped-down 
to bones.

It was winter solstice, 
when day and night confronted 
each other- 

in negativity. Tracking 
the frozen footprints, my absence 
was generic.

I dread the barrenness- 
of looks, the unwritten wounds
seeking the healer.

The avalanche falling 
rapidly on the streets, with placards 
demanding the gallows-

for the tainted. The
victim lies still. Ashes fly
back at the purebreds.


Satish Verma...

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