Around the lake on midsummer days,
A garden blooms in vivid display,
Red, yellow, white, pink, and gold,
Daisies, Bougainvillea, Dahlia, bold.
Palash trees with fiery hues,
Mirror pink and white lotus views,
Daisies and jasmine garland the shore,
While dandelions and Putush are often ignored.
Summer birds, parakeets, koels, and more,
Trill sweet songs that the wind will soar,
Love birds Papiha sing their tune,
Their voices float beneath the moon.
Papihas cherish summer's embrace,
Sing songs of love with gentle grace,
If one should die, the other will leap,
To join their love in a celestial sleep.
Birds care not for who they sing,
Their voices carry on the wind's swift wing.
Their songs unite us, both near and far,
A reminder of the beauty that we are.
White lotus of love you are always a promise
you with your petals soft and ready to open
why do you entice me to dream like a sleuth
looking for signs everywhere, are you youth?
Egyptian beauty of grace I remember your face
you send shivers down my spine warm as wine
this little thing we have together, pure heather
feather me with your kisses but don't go away
White lotus "I call you Hope" show me uphill
let me climb you, as I rise I'll turn around
as you promise I'll deliver me into tomorrow
regardless of the past, I believe in you lotus
White lotus of love you are always by my side
blooming inside of me you are my sweet arride.
white lotus
unfolding in greens-
newborn
At Paro of Bhutan I found the clouds
Gathering over the snow white peaks
Over the summit the deep blue shroud
Kept looking on in dazed disbelief
If one takes up my fountain pen
Or snatches my favourite umbrella
Restless naturally are all the grains
Confusion arrives in the sweet tabla
White clouds start fondling the peaks
Drawings of beautiful chaos emerge
Surge of colourfully deep drum beat
Dance in the white peaks go berserk
Rises from the foothills the peace palm
Lifted in the air from a milky white lotus
In the eyes smiling the poems of psalm
Enjoy in peace, ---says a voice sonorous
I quieted my pen and put down the notebook
In bliss kept fixated my blue pacific look
_______________________________________
Tabla : A small drum or pair of drums of India turned to different pitches and played with the hands : In Dictionary.com
May 2, 2016
Drops of water serve as hydration
Requisite to efflorescence
Prismatic rose flower buds
Rain precipitation
Quenchs the thirsty soul
Under rainfall
Afternoon
Beach shore
Stroll
Impermeable skin saciates
And invigorate with water
Energizing with the fuel
That condenses in a
Crystallization
Of crystalline
White lotus
Water
Pond
4-7-2016
DEATH HAS NO GLORY
For those who love life, death has no glory.
What pharaoh would not trade
His pyramid, myriad years in the building,
For forty seconds worth of fresh air
Blowing over the Nile with the scent of
White lotus on the breeze
And the fluty song of the golden oriole?
.............................................................
Other poems of mine, similar to this, are available at
https://www.fictionmagazines.com/magazines/five/
Full moon reflects in the unstained white Lotus that floats in the quiet pond.
1-29-2016
BIRDS AND FLOWERS
If you love birds don’t cage them.
What free creature
Would choose a fetter? Though
The warmth and food are guaranteed,
And risk from storm and hawk,
An Atlantic gale feels better.
If you love flowers don’t pick them.
What flower would choose
To have its roots ripped away
For all the brown sugar and teabags in China?
Flowers and shoots in a cut-glass vase -
In a cut-glass coffin - are dying.
Pretty dried blooms carefully embalmed - are dead
If you love life, death has no glory.
What pharaoh would not trade
His pyramid, myriad years in the building,
For forty seconds worth of fresh air
Blowing over the Nile with the scent of
White lotus on the breeze
And the fluty song of the golden oriole?
White lotus at red feet:
we will start self-infliction
explicating
with regrets.
After a rough night
the day was weeping.
From where the bread will
come, when you were playing
with a golden spoon.
This morning I again
dig a hole in heart.
Was the Mayan calender right ?
Why the sun is playing slow music ?
I am coming nearer
to a locked god.
Satish Verma
White lotus floats by ~
silver starlight shimmers down ~
blue cool river flows.
we breathe the same air
but I'm not who you think i am
someone else is wearing my face
writing poems
in your sleep
over the mountain, the sun rises
lifting heavy eyelids of earth
it is morning, the dance begins,
the abalone night has fled with
beggars and thieves
the white lotus opens to reveal
the Buddha of Compassion
rising in a gown of crystal skin
i peel the onions and crack the eggs
straighten out the closet
in which we hide our dreams.
you go now, my love, we'll meet
again when the day ends and
I'll be the goddess on your tongue,
coiling to strike,
you are the poem I touch with a thousand
sighs,
let us begin to rain.
Fall in love again
why did you look back and smile?....
not my fault at all.
Bring back your sixteen
I will be nineteen at ease,
have fun and frolic,
let's have that air balloon ride
in the sky of teenage love.
Just give me your hands my love,
in your white lotus like palms
I will paint my poetry...
poetry of love.
© kashinath karmakar(22nd May, 2011)
=============================
Placement: 7th; (June 2011)
By:kashinath karmakar
Contest:Fun and Frolic (3 Forms)
Sponsor:Linda-Marie The Sweetheart
As I stand by the river,
Watching brook trout deliver their eggs in a harmonic spawning song…
I can feel the sacred shower from the waterfalls love tower,
Cleansing my being like the white lotus flower…
Suddenly right then the winds begin parading jasmine and suckle…
Remembering you I follow natures tune, rolling in the clover with a chuckle…
At the end of the thought
was sadness.
When temple lies broken
a little white lotus comes up
on the tranquil lake.
A cute word enters the lone voice,
stands down, collapses, retreats into silence.
A chaste tree becomes a sage
and tenderness of the ash turns into an elegy.
The moon-face has frost on the eyes.
Tears blaze the lips.
Unbounded grief holds the space between
sobs, a bodiless spark.
Moons ago when sleep was a fragrant
gift, the song never touched the earth.
That dream sways like a Chinese lantern
without enthusiasm.
SATISH VERMA
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.