Tars Poems | Examples

Deception

At sunset, orange frescos on the west wall
Sink gradually into the bowels of hills flung
By distant wavelengths of a backward illusion,
Which yells silently at concupiscent terns,
Yodelling and returning from carnivals of the
Wild. From the faint glow, a rainbow stretches
For a cuddle, musing over a curious world,
Ditched by diaphanous tarradiddles of the odd.
Shadows on ground level travel on painted
Tars, recreating their bosoms on surfaces
Raven-black and soot-framed.
Seagulls welcome waves in one cracked voice,
Honking the horns of billed staccato.
Among able-bodied patterns of bituminous tracks,
Rivers, ponds, pools seek their faces on sun-flushed
Mirrors, which laugh at their fatuous inclinations
Mired by the sputum of drained rains.

SON

Stars that danced above you, now hide their glow below
Oceans of anguish ride in with the salty tide flow
Numb arms fall to my side, I know I must let you go.

Daystar

 Delighted under your light,
 Amazing to see you shining
 Yes, I am grateful to see the
 Stars, the souls of our lost ones
 Touching us with tenderness~
 Above, where we all will bright
 Replete with the searched love

DAYSTAR

During the daytime, we’re ruled by the sun.
Allegorically, the Daystar is God’s son.
Yes, I have faith in the Bringer of Light.
Stars do not always shine only at night.
Turn to the truth, for it is bright.
As is God’s love, God’s light too is true.
Redemption it brings, for me and for you.

Daystar

Days hold the sun
And many wonderful
Yawns
Stars twinkling will be held
Tonight by the sky
And moon
Rising over the mountain top

Space II

S tars perfectly align [cohabitation]        
e ndless-spaces posing, [a-vast] cosmic, ecliptic, dance of 
  [c ast], at it's (station parting as chaotic entropy).

P ulling g a laxies together, a  [tapestry] in intrinsic entrance of (separate positions adorning culled existence).

A fter eons of celeStial [tide], weaving fate's intricate [thread of] abode to abide (stretching partition arearing capacities extension).

C osmic wonders emerge, in this theater that the universe has advanced as (spreading propellant aortic celled expanse) .

E nergy transfered, transposedly, written and read as (s-ystem p-artition a-spiring c-onnection e-xistensibly.)

To Be Followed 4

In open schools,
On the laziness of orange trees,
On the beds of straw,
I’m looking for it,

In the naked mills,
On the guest books,
On the square roofs,
I’m looking for it,

Under the sheets of Sunday,
On the tars that melt,
On the white spices,
I’m looking for it,

On the defeated facades,
The distant sails,
On the sweet vines,
I’m looking for it,






Dans les écoles ouvertes,
Sur la paresse des orangers,
Sur les lits de paille,
Je le cherche,

Dans les moulins dévêtus,
Sur les livres d’or,
Sur les toits carrés,
Je le cherche,

Sous les draps du dimanche,
Sur les goudrons qui fondent,
Sur les épices blanches,
Je le cherche,

Sur les façades vaincues,
Les voiles éloignées,
Sur les vignes sucrées,
Je le cherche,

A Common Whore

Just a common whore they said
Who rolled the drunken tars
As they staggered out from
The Dockside taverns and bars.
Lime Street, Liverpool was
Where she plied her trade.
Where her drunken bargains
Were very quickly made.

Transported to Australia
When she was finally caught
And Maggie May of Liverpool
Could no longer be bought.
No consideration for the times
The Tars gave her a beating 
Or made off without paying, 
The lowest form of cheating.

The girls still ply their trade
Their services still for hire
A trade that isn’t possible if
There weren’t so many a buyer.
A class ridden trade really
With the range of clients it affords
From  back street transactions to those 
Who  service the Commons and Lords.

One just a back street whore with 
A life of hardship, risk and distress,
The other with chance of promotion
To  status of aristocrat’s mistress.
Maggie May is infamous now,
Celebrated in bawdy song
A good modern QC could argue
She probably really did no wrong.

Sunset

Scarlet morphs into a shroud of pink; as
Umber tints a brindled horizon, and
Night welcomes an ebony sky filled with
Stars, while a sliver of moonlight rises
Effortlessly in the blackness of night
Tethered to a dying sun as it bleeds.

Kismet

Kindred spirits, instantaneously.
It was unbidden love written in the
  Stars for the erstwhile strangers.
  Magical was their connection, an
 Explosion of vermilion; passionate,
 True romance; 'twas sheer kismet!

The Sea's Lament

My empty bottle, tossed with careless ease
Into the deep blue sea, pollution must cease.
The tide is going out and with every wave
I feel the weight of plastics' deadly grave.

My home, my sanctuary, was once so serene
Now battered by storms, impure, and unclean
The creatures that call Earth their habitat
Are struggling to survive, their plight falling flat.

I cry out in agony, but who will hear?
My plea for avail, my desperate, silent tear
The damage is done; irreversible scars
A legacy of greed, neglect, and tars.

But still, I hold on to hope and faith.
Man will grip amid abiding wrack and scaith! 
That we can barter our ways and ensure amends.
Before my final lament, before the sea ends.

So hear my call, and heed my warning cry.
We can shift the tide before it can see the sky.

Written: June 06, 2023

The Mist Makes You See Far

The mist makes you see far.

 Driving home, it was late after a clinic visit
the mist hung heavy over the valley that looked like a different landscape.
I might as well drive in Bhutan, a place where mad royals live.
At the dinner table, the prince excused himself, returned with a machine gun
and shot them all, a truly Shakespearian moment.
The prince was declared mentally unfit sent to a secure place
but since he was now a king, he can walk around and be free of relatives, sits in the throne-room 
wears a crown and nothing can be done about it.
The French got rid of their royals but not totally some of them still walk around calling themselves 
duke or baron, but politicians occupy their splendid castles.
I saw them, the royals of yore moving about in the mist, reminded me
of the ghosts on the island of Saragossa where blind old tars are forever trying to escape back to 
the sea where they once were the princelings of the oceans.

Sunflowers

Stars I gaze, all night - as if in a reverie, 
Under the sky as I stand, yearning to be
Near you and admire the blue-black velvet and
Feel the breath of silence, so serene - to be
Lost in the warmth of a dream-like enchanting moment;
Oceans apart, now, still our souls merge
When the universe in unison tunes a melody, 
Entranced by the lustrous stars in the quiet of the night, 
Reflecting the charm of our love, as I gape at the
Same star you stare at from a distant land. 


Date: 05/26/2021
Submitted for: Sunflower Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Malabika Ray Choudhury

Dance

DANCE

Daily he watched her
a vigil of desire masked
by the suit, by the business
demeanor of the corporate 
nineties, a faint tambourine
tingling the spine, kindling
a rhythm at the edge of
the mind
Daily he watched her
walking at lunch hour, bathed
in the sunlight denied other
women in the tepid, a-sensual
theater of our times
And the congas were playing
a clear primal rhythm, the 
tambourine tingling the nerves
in the spine

One day he heard them
a murmur, a rumble
a great thunder growing like a 
sonic volcano erupting from
soul to the center of the brain
Cymbals and snare drums,
tablas and tars, derboukas and
tom-toms, and timpani rising,
rich polyrhythms like adrenalin 
and cunning somehow arming the
predator, the wild naked dancer
whirling and leaping with
flashing gold earrings and clicking
bone necklace as powerful
percussion destroyed inhibitions,
ignited the heat in the primitive 
focus of his hunting and stalking
the Circean woman whom he 
boldly pursued on airborne desire
as the fire of the drummers
burned hot in the city like flames
from the sun renegade in
the streets

Savoring Solitude

S tars o’er spiritual sanctuary
I ndulgence in inward infinity 
L et us linger lush lengths of latitude 
E ndorsement of envied entitlement
N omads in the night negotiating
C alibrating their carefree carapace
E ons seek their earthly enlightenment



AP: Honorable Mention 2021

Submitted on March 23, 2021 for contest SAVOURING SOLITUDE IN SEVEN LINES sponsored by JCB BRUL (HMS.com : 10 syl)  -  RANKED 1ST

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