Pink fringed lotus,
stunning leaf floater,
suffusing pond surface,
beneath sapphire sky,
in stoic city pond,
charming capture,
casual strollers peep,
as vim skims,
reflection of visages,
luscious liquid stream,
fluid canvas,
water in atmosphere.
or pool intensifies,
navy blue welkin,
august morning shift,
in shade or tint,
hue’d reservoir,
sapphire firmament,
a momentary pause,
for zestful urbanite,
bowl-shape flora,
or vapored vault,
coalescing influence,
bridging distance,
town dynamism,
lush environment,
bosom buddy treaty
If you live in a small town, I’m guessing
That you know everyone that you meet,
Plus their families as well
As the stories they’d tell;
From such knowledge you cannot retreat.
In the city, the opposite happens.
Most strangers you never will know.
Those you see for a while
May engender a smile
But there’s rarely much more than hello.
As an urbanite, I can defend this.
To call us unfriendly’s not fair.
We keep to ourselves
And if somebody delves
‘Neath the surface, we’d rather not share.
Because she lived on the other side of the tracks
Ashamed of the shameful ghetto of her raising
Spending her time improving her dismal situation
Seeking to improve her meager station in life.
Ashamed of the shameful ghetto of her raising
She studied hard and sought to look her best
Seeking to improve her meager station in life
She set out to conquer an unfriendly world.
She studied hard and sought to look her best
Developing poise and grace of the urbanite
She set out to conquer an unfriendly world
Certain that her efforts would bring success.
Developing poise and grace of the urbanite
Spending her time improving her dismal situation
Certain that her efforts would bring success
Because she lived on the other side of the tracks.
Written June 18, 2021
[Modified Pantoum with no Rhyme]
Feeling small like a wee little sprite
I gaze in wonder at a man-made satellite
Drifting across the earth at such great height
While Mars is aglow with red again tonight
I sit and watch the shooting stars with delight
Their trails gracing the sky with ester and phosphite
And imagine others awake across the night
Seeing the same beauty that cannot but excite
Evening star twinkling straight above my campsite
Full moon radiates the goddess of silvery light
Orion's belt sits straight and bright
Stars immense expanse is a beautiful sight
If I wish upon the first glowing star of white
And I wish I may and I wish I might
Will my dream of a world healing from its plight
Reach each of us to become a shinning knight?
Can we learn new tricks of compassion like a neophyte?
Not to burrow our head in our life like a termite?
Whether from the country or as an urbanite
We can shine bright like a meteorite
i wish i may i wish i might
kiss upon a star tonight
meet a girl who does it right
feel super with no kryptonite
healthy like a vegemite
she gets me hi i hit the heights
no violations to my rights
flying like a stringless kite
return because shes outta sight
rerun for that nick at night
cut the chase we laugh and bite
i catch her when i hit the lights
spin her like a metaknight
dreamland so we better fight
making truth my appetite
sting lingers from my latest flight
empty opposite of tight
like swallowed sticks of dynomite
ride or die that is my type
no going back once started like
the silly way typewriters write
hearts and minds will reunite
my heart once made of hematite
stays broken like some urbanite
wonder if i heard her right
hard to hear well worded lies
when no nerve and nervous might
postpone the light for certain sides
service sized assurance glides
soft to land no meteorites
loving till the end despite
leaving me dry with wounded pride
Like each drop of your humbleness
engulfing my urbanite woes;
the graffiti emerges in tender grace
to resurrect a windmill.
My spirit, the abode of small birds
carrying the sunset on its back
was returning home for the final-
sleep in the lap of twilight.
When autumn comes and crippled,
brown leaves start falling, I will
set the birds free in the winds
to find their new master.
The nest will weep for the broken song.
In space between the eyes, lies the negation
which will not accept the peace of a
grave. I will follow the wilderness-
of thoughts again.
Satish Verma
Waltzing slow with the wind, wild flowers bloom
along country roads that they
prettify.
Red radiance here, yellow exuberance there,
my sight they so pleasantly
petrify.
Blood-shot eyes of this smog-dazed urbanite,
long for beauty that can cleanse and
purify
these thoughts and dreams that city life and strife
stiflle and muffle, addle and
putrefy.
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