A massive iron cage, brick,
sand and cement, rising
to become a home of human happiness
Hail, hail, concrete father
Hail, hail, the high-rise
A nest for human dreams
Those who are building
my house, I wonder,
where is their home
I have arranged it beneath the clouds,
a canopy of rain, would someone
come to be the bride and groom
A night by the swimming pool
beneath the water, blue
lights
A round of bickering first thing in the morning,
then all day long, thinking
about married life
At the very top of a secluded balcony
blooming
dahlias and chrysanthemums
Caught
in a spider's web
a shiuli flower
Tom and Jerry
Popeye the Sailor
ha ha ha
Tender hands
the racing wishes
of coloured pencils
There is love
There is no love
Love
In another life
perhaps, yellow
wildflowers
A cat and a pigeon
in between
me
It rained in the afternoon
the evening
feels beautiful
A gopuram
magnificent
the Dravidian land
Fallen leaves, fallen feathers,
their new moons
and full moons
The day drifts away
there is no shore
nor is there a boat
I passed the local swimming pool
And saw that what remained
Was lots of empty space because
The water had been drained.
Now, I am not a swimmer,
Though I walk by every morn,
Way too early for the crowds of folks
Where bathing suits are worn.
Yet I’m certain they enjoyed it,
Cooling off or doing laps,
While the children played or splashed
With “Marco Polo!” shouts, perhaps.
That’s all finished for the season
And the lifeguards, too, are gone,
Maybe to an indoor gym, where some
Aquatics still go on.
heaven and beauty swimming in a pool
i am too shy to start a conversation
her body is a personal conversation all to itself
i wonder if she came here alone
i wonder what makes her the happiest
i wonder what sad happenings are in the closet of her mind
i wonder what it would take to win her heart
i will play guessing games with giant johnson and a possibly sweaty steering wheel
the fluidity of her swimming skills are influencing so many words in my head right now
the words are so jumbled up that i cannot come close to thinking straight like trying to write with my right hand
however, the etched art of seeing her inspires my mind to become ambidextrous
out of nowhere, i attempt faraway flirting with her
reciprocity prevails like a Beautiful Blessing From God
heaven and beauty is now sleeping soundly next to me with a smile of pure contentment
Inland swimming pool.
Between two hills, a chasm, in winters rain fills up the gap
a lake is born, in May, June and the middle of July the water
is fine, if a bit greying.
The lake has no outlet and is used by farmers for their crops
if there is scant rain.
In August, the lake is silty, but it is the only swimming pool
we have, we sit by the bank drink beer watch children play
it is our day at the beach.
When the lake is dry, we find skeletons of animals and
that of a missing person who went swimming in the night.
Although we say next year, we are going to the beach
we do not it is too far away and crowded.
This year the rural idyll was shattered the dog sensed danger
something behind it swam wildly to shore.
As the owner of the canine lifted it out of the water, a monster
bits the dog in half, so much blood and distress.
As there is little one can do with half a dog, the owner threw
the remains into the water where it was snapped up by what was
described as an enormous reptile with a shark-like mouth.
The lake is a silent malevolent eye in the blissful landscape.
This year we are going to the seaside.
Which lover of swimming pool
Would begin to feel like a fool
And think lovelier a pond,
Because in it a Swimmer Blonde?
And which user of the pool
Would now keep to some stool,
Until he’s sighted a pond
Because you’d waved your magic wand?
Then, ahead wave your magic wand
For me to be of diseases fond.
Of the ones wickedly waiting in a pond
And once in us, a lifelong bond…
Then, now and again wave your wand
That should make one bank on a frond
While drowning in a pond…
Your wand! Your wand!
To irreversibly magnet a blonde
That monstrosity reads in a pond.
A swimming pool for the dog?
My husband acts like I am mad.
Does he not remember my manmade bog?
A delicious pool for the most pets I ever had.
Watch the people in the pool
As they kick and splash,
Knowing that their pool days
Will be over in a flash.
Noodles, tubes and swimmies
Help to keep the kids afloat
While the grown-ups stand there, cooling off
And trading tales of note.
The only thing you rarely see,
As summertime is dimming,
Is anyone (with few exceptions)
Actually swimming!
When I really wanted a renewal,
Was baptized in a swimming pool;
Did dunk;
Then sunk,
While preacher stood on a stool.
Jim Horn
I dreamt of Babe Ruth
in Howard Johnsons'
lighted pool doing
the backstroke so brilliantly.
No bats lying around
anywhere. warm water
reflected dorsal pecs,
beautiful biceps, round
spiral muscles fanning
along so softly.
Finally finding the nerve
to say: Babe! your a
ballplayer; Sultan of swat.
Smiling at me timidly:
I'm a ballplayer and a
a swimmer. He replied
calmly gliding away.
A swan in the moonlight.
We have a president who loses their cool;
Last time we looked in our swimming pool,
Being a big joke,
And fun at poke;
Trump's brain looked like some loose stool.
Jim Horn.
T-wentieth January morn
H-as made the day sunny;
E-vening shadows disappear,
A-s the dawn breaks early.
P-ouring rain Thursday
E-vades the Friday occasion
N-ew light is rising
A-bove the horizon.
R-emembering your birth
E-liminates the dark night;
D-elight is truly brought,
O-nce the sun denies the twilight.
N-o more mist and haze,
D-iving into the water is cool;
A-llow not yourself to sink, keep afloat in the swimming pool.
Dry Swimming Pool
He learned how to play with a loose tool;
Suffered from much criticism and ridicule,
When he had lied,
After a while died,
Being fool who dove into dry swimming pool.
Jim Horn
Deep end diving; shallow end Fear.
Barbecue host and nobody near.
Crystal, shimmering; fish to eat. . .
Lounge chair Dolphin wets her feet.
Black lucid sky-
Sun and moon’s swimming pool
Stars are guards.
©Kiran Bantawa
Tourist Hotel´s Pool
The swimming pool at the hotel is empty
guests are having supper.
On limpid water two big yellow balls float
asleep after being thrown about all day.
Around the pool deep green artificial grass,
and a ditto tree that sheds no leaf.
Nature has been recreated.
No fish will ever swim in a pool that has
blue tiles at its bottom to pretend
to be the real sea that is a few miles away.
Except for insecticide and chlorine there is
no aroma other than the smell of nothing.
so sterile, so insipid, so dead.
But wait, a young couple might swim here
late at night, make love and their juices might
mingle, bring a renewal, to this oasis of sterility.
But perhaps not, I see a sign telling bathers:
“Smile you are on camera.”
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