Sometimes, when we hurl
angry words—
ancient stones thrown by indifference,
lodging in the ears of our children.
Witnessing horror twist itself into child’s play.
A stone’s throw—killed our empathy.
Anger knows its enemy:
sitting next to,
sitting opposite of,
never with.
It sits a stone’s throw away.
Rising from the ashes of fear—
Vapours of flesh smoulder
as blooded lava flows.
Cools—
our scarred magma to a crusted creed.
The stitched social fabric
binds us—
its loud colour blinds us.
Worn by both—
the right
and left sleeve.
United buttons,
reconcile for peace.
Unironed—full of wrinkles.
We tear further apart
the closer we come,
repelling—mirroring
the same magnetic face.
We read our compass,
in a bipolar place;
wondering how,
we’ve lost our way.
Believing everything
we’ve been taught,
until we die—
Realizing—
too late,
it’s all been a lie.
Pearl
rapids
steam cascade
haunting canvass
a red dawn smoulder
to prise sluggish eyelids
of zestful bright mood riser
who gulps in rapt awestruck spoonfuls
of mosaic zone enthralled enclave
awash with random sun drenched blue pool plops
Where giddy children cast green hue pebbles
as dulcet birds tweet from gaunt elm twigs
and rainbow trouts skim silver streams
wet grass clumps sag on mud banks
a grey fleck morning haze
that scene shift migrant
a spring usher’s
mint leaf scent
in faint,
gust
Christmas frost is in the air,
the time to hold our loved ones near,
Some have been through hell and high water,
But my dear your demons we will slaughter,
Don't let their darkness take your light,
Your like the star on that cold Christmas night,
That pulled the wise men to saunter, the beautiful whisp that I cant let smoulder,
Let me be your shoulder and use me my love, as cannon fodder.
Arise like the glow of Christmas lights that we hang on our tree of promise right,
Love an hold what mean us dear,
and never fear the dark that wanders.
When your eyes get wet from within,
Ghazals mellow get from within.
The why for this one just is that
Tears well in eyes, set from within.
Clothes on washing thinner may get,
Scarce muslin fine get from within.
Doubt, mere wordsmiths make good pen,
Comes that innate skill from within.
Let smoke, like hate, smoulder for long,
It can’t emit light from within.
Each, every kind of carbon soot
Can’t like a kohl bat from within.
Sky deludes as Nature’s false roof,
Get on floor, create from within.
____________________
Ghazal |16.11.2024| poem, poet
As a pebble from a rough rock, my existence began.
Did I, devoid of destiny, have a peculiar plan?
I was caught between the caves of waves and tricky boulders.
The sun over the seashores was not less than a smoulder.
Haphazardly, with nothing of my gleeful goal, I flowed
Amidst coarseness, a ray of refulgence from within glowed.
Hazardous hardships of grinding and gravelling I bore
Priceless perfection, yet, passionately possessed my core
Twisted, turned, and tossed, my hard edges got softened and smoothed.
Indeed, there were moments too, when, by sea waves, I got soothed.
I am strong now. I'm bright and shining like a sparkling gem.
Shreds of sun and moon hide between the bold folds of my hem.
How I am joyous when I am in a child's tender hold!
How grimness grills my heart when, by a merchant, I am sold!
Ups and downs are parts of process my existence, I know.
This is why I don't fear when in streams like a leaf I flow.
I am humble even when I look tall, fat, high, or wide.
In the process of my becoming, I have lost my pride.
As every being or nonbeing, I too might be gone.
Isn't life a bon voyage from the known to the unknown?
bend your knees, straighten your back, square your shoulders,
lift the hammer overhead, break the boulder!
one by one, each one at a time, every time,
break them open, separate the stones from lime!
forest of interest to left, more to right,
the day has just begun, give life a good fight,
every obstacle is a boulder on ground,
every avenue in life with them abound!
lift the hammer overhead, break the boulder!
let the hammer’s sound vibrate, let dust smoulder!
put your mind to the task then wrestle to win,
there is nothing you can’t solve, put it on tin!
more battles are won with our hearts than with guns,
go farther by measured walks than speedy run.
look each life problem as a boulder then strike,
journey of life, is mix of love and dislike.
bend your knees, straighten your back, square your shoulders.
lift the hammer overhead, break the boulder!
Soldiers of fortune caught in the construct
Captive foreign held in the menagerie
Shoulders abortion fought for my next salary
Now souls smoulder over their short daiquiri
I hate it when they’re mad at me
Tragedy had to be for a better tomorrow
War ages are coming
Prepare for the casualties
Rubble
And sorrow
Headlines a tad too hallow
Death still rages on casually
I guess it has to be
The delivery was free
Please don’t be mad at me
But whatever has to be has to be
She’d statuesque legs, and eyes that smoulder
Over came Jacques, tipped her on the shoulder
‘Excuse-moi, femme fatal’
‘J’adore’ your bearded pal
“Does she have ‘un pistolet’ or holster?”
Raven on my shoulder, emitting faint smolder,
swirling, formed a vision with self-like precision.
The magic of love in those early years
So intense, so filled with suspense
What would it be like, that very first kiss
The feeling was so so intense
Just about more than I could bare
The anticipation, the longing to know
What all the older guys were raving about
“Making out” in the back row of the show
Eventually my time did finally arrive
Nearly blew my head off my shoulders
And that was only my very first kiss
What came later made me utterly smoulder
Won't go into detail but holy frigging crap
Sure made my temperature rise
Got all sweaty, totally forgot who I was
Greeted all my friends with high fives
Then I knew what all the fuss was about
Sure haven't forgotten it since
In fact, I consider myself a professional now
Could teach about love I'm convinced
Those fun filled days have long since departed
Only memories are left to remember
But holy cadoodle what a wonderful journey
As I'm nearing my month of December
A cold wind shreds
into moans
through the gritted branches
of apple trees then quietens
to a yawn rippled
across the waters of a lake.
Further up the valley,
half the trees have been uprooted
and mounded into bonfires
that smoulder through
a moonless night.
Nearby, long lines of traffic
pass on a highway where
lives, cocooned in comfort,
barrel by through drifts of smoke.
One hundred years ago
and a hemisphere away,
young men from here
stood propped in trenches
in fear of a more
lethal smoke.
Folded over
a bypassed road, an avenue
of trees commemorate the dead.
Each bears a weathered plaque.
A century on, the names
have been hollowed out
and no longer live in a memory
housed in the mind of a parent,
wife or child. Come April,
in the pre dawn mist,
they are lifted high above
their earthly station to become
the saints of a secular nation.
Destroyed cosy inquisitioned in light
Detective sun floods roof lifted abode
Harsh ray revelation, shark menace bite
Adrenaline daggers stab at forbode
Fireplace safe scaffold coughs in sunken fog
Flight frantic response compels departure
Haggard recognition, choked chimney smog
Accumulates lump lung coal disaster
Sorrow will slow her, solo is her plight
Spat at offers smoulder in disregard
Heroine rejects, chest prison gate tight
Ashes of apathy, bleeding heart barred
Swift blow attack ad libs a survivor
Merciless evacuee manuevres
29th May
I fear to tell you how much of your love
that has drown me into your lake—
I'm a body under water.
Each time i walk on the street
my body, a drumsticks playing itself
would feel the rise of sensual excesses
tingling the weak layers of my cells.
Should I tell you why I come out each morning to see you?
because my heartbeats recites in elocution
at the wordings of your songs
& I'll try not to escape the ligature of music
you keep preparing for me.
You devour my heart
I'm afraid to tell you.
I've wanted my diction to appease you, smoulder every ashes infusing your mind like coal to the pot,
but it keeps infusing francophone rhythm, broken vowels clusters & brittle brittle voice.
I don't know how I'll feel
If I thaw the instant gaze frosting
under the radiances of your countenance.
Maybe I'll sink into loneliness all day long;
why I travel to the dark house every night.
Do not frown at this poem I've become, obianuju
I'll no longer lurk privily like Cobra.
I've fortify my heart to harm you via my love
where we could get hitched in the wedlock of the church
reciting poems from song of songs
that spew out from the bosom of Solomon.
Night air shivers in restless repose
To pallid dreams of dorment desire
Creaking groans of lost souls moan
Some poor tortured thing may haunt
Besieged by phantasmagoric demons
Lest blood deceive pernicious tales
Crumbling corridors hear chants that echo
Midst gossamer embraces that flicker intent
Bibles smoulder their pitiful surrender
An effigy of crucified Christ beholds
Soulless eyes invite submission
Cradling esurient sanguine lust
Shrouds cascade in flowing tatters
Whispers waft upon dank air
Inviting fleeting prayers murmered
A weeping tear on cheek to bare
Crucifix clutched with growing fervour
Defends this depraved decadent dance
Beguiled in spidery webs uncertain
A purifying presence subdues perchance
Screams descend as fiery infernos
Like dancing flame to spiralling moth
Ash cascades as falling snowflakes
Melting like the morning frost
© Arcana
If swallows scissor scarlet skies
and gather summer on their wings;
then seasons shift to autumn tones
as gnats retune the evening's song.
If apples swell with ozzing juice
that slowly drips on wooden floors
then purpled fruit release their stench
in time that slowly stretches hours.
If stubbled fields are stacked and stooked
with hay in gilded packs that sway
then harvest yields beneath the moon
reflecting fallen bronzen leaves.
A sharpened odour fills the air
as bonfires smoulder vacant lands
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