An unorthodox chair - Mustofa Anwar
Reciter: Shimul Mustapha
Tonight. It is almost five minutes past three now
Godsay , breathed the last.
Time decayed the form through ages, a lot, though
The poor soul died old, passed away, gone soul, dissipating now.
Godsay, a good fellow , was a good one to spare
Everyone was a source of reaching out, in glum and glee
And everyone was accessible to the call. Indeed, it is to be.
Somewhat closer was the soul, soothing the heartache, chest too.
Godsay, a good fellow, was a good one to spare.
Tonight, Godsay breathed the last, at last, there.
Godsay is no more among us, no longer
No longer shall be, no more anymore.
Hedge
Nature won't be tamed
His hedge grows tall, needs cutting
My view is softened
5-7-5 syllables checked with howmanysyllables.com
25 June 2022
everything that used to be is gone
grass and rust has now taken over
the new generation cannot be to blame
they are making their own memories
i just take a breath and smile at the thought of my own
i just wish that mom was here to reminisce with me
old ugly ileus made sure that did not happen along with the colon cancer
now the tears threaten, but i refuse to let them flow
i just think about the place that i grew up in and leave the rest to my active imagination
maybe i can write a poem about it, but i am not that good with words
maybe i can plan some type of event, but i am not that good with planning
i think i will just sit in the darkness of my dusty apartment again
the streetlight will shine attention on the much needed privacy and peace
they are all that is left
everything that used to be is something incomprehensibly new
change is water, but not always
Succumb to a rabbit hole, avalanche perception
Compiles tiles sliding, interchanging hues
Collapses cement rigidity command of tension
Cube covers corners interior cog subdues
Determined digits dive in darker dire dimension
Coming to glinted dug river bed treasures
Coalesce of pleasures drift in liquid suspension
Culminate in mind crowned proud avenger
Clever surface turner ensures dirt spurns limits
Combative burrow tunnel richly delivers
Coherent limber fingers edges can never inhibit
Campaign clocks widening prize winner
Squander of wonder prevents viewpoint shifted
Deficient Virus solution outrage renews
Seething bacteria rehashed in plastic indifferent
Daunt of grainy agitation, a cure debuts
13th January 2021
Kai Michael Neumann's
' If The Rubik's Cube Was Round'
As I sit down thinking I am breaking in half
The realisation dawns that half is still substantial
Regardless if in half my brain tik toks so fast
That I realise half is still better than what I had in the past
It took me years to get here
To bare the sword of a man
Who's past scared him so bad
But with those lesson's learnt it strenghtens the heart
So if I sit here saying half is better than what I had
Does that mean half means I am a better man
Does that mean half makes me better off now
Does that mean half although unchosen, unwanted and broken means I am better and more developed now than the path I had chosen
I guess so
The Light always existed
Void was created
to bear witness of the Light
From before, the day seems different today
A day vanishing silently to the fall of night
A moment less fulfilling returns to stray
Where of resurrections of moments died?
Bittersweet from a subtle kiss
Alive and vibrant, soulless and dispirited
To moments… to someone missed
Of feelings thought to unlearn, let be restricted
Surrendering as a victor who sighs
Searching in vain in unorthodoxy
Believing in truths, returning in lies
Of moments found in tranquility
As balances un-root and unwind
From a day before, I see not today
Dependency unfolds in disregarded time
With certainty to acknowledge to keep at bay
A riddle stands atween and along
An enigma to welcome yet, the encounter
From the start till the end to belong
Where of paths to cross in moments, forever?
To My One and Only Love,
I tried to fall asleep, I just kept shaking;
‘Cos every time I close my eyes,
I feel your heart’s mine for the taking.
I’m lost in my dreams,
Reality is no good to me.
Falling faster into dementia,
Allowing this euphoria to take over.
My brain’s having spasms,
I’m no longer in control,
Here you stand next to me, but still, I feel all alone.
Nowhere to go, nowhere to stay,
I guess my mind’s just running away.
No longer sober, no longer sane,
This is a drug; a personal dose of cocaine.
I’m free from my troubles,
You are my only concern.
I’m free from my pain,
Life is no longer a continuous burn.
So here I am in this state of euphoria,
Falling faster and faster into this so-called dementia;
I try to fall asleep, I just keep shaking,
I can feel your heart, and it’s mine for the taking;
No longer sober, no longer sane;
You are a drug;
My personal dose of cocaine.
From before, the day seems different today
A day vanishing silently to the fall of night
A moment less fulfilling returns to stray
Where of resurrections of moments died?
Bittersweet from a subtle kiss
Alive and vibrant, soulless and dispirited
To moments… to someone missed
Of feelings thought to unlearn, let be restricted
Surrendering as a victor who sighs
Searching in vain in unorthodoxy
Believing in truths, returning in lies
Of moments found in tranquility
As balances un-root and unwind
From a day before, I see not today
Dependency unfolds in disregarded time
With certainty to acknowledge to keep at bay
A riddle stands atween and along
An enigma to welcome yet, the encounter
From the start till the end to belong
Where of paths to cross in moments, forever?
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