Category Archives: Poetry

The place for all your poetry to be shared with the world

Melville

Some distant shore

whereon no Argonaut trod,

s i l h o u e t t e d

the rotting hulk,

broken-boned on the beach

bleached by Ages benign indifference,

discarded amongst vicissitudes of time

a memento of heroes

long since forgotten,

their wraith’s lament

b e w a i l i n g

the whaling ship,

w r e c k e d

ancient timbers

cursed by the inscription

” A h a b “

Love, as it was!

Eyes closed,

I feel my wings unfold and take me

There, to that mystical land

Where I lived in my previous birth

By the side of Love!

Pray, as I sit, on the banks of the river,

Watching people flock to temples

As priests diligently perform their rites

I can not help but allow my heart to melt!

Pray, could Love have been that angered

As to have caused me to be fallen

In a sea of uncertainty

Where the lands hide marshy grounds

In which carnivorous beasts roam?

Why, eyes closed,

I let the tunes of the snake charmer fill me up

Like the snake, I dance, entranced, to life’s sways

Like the snake, I remain enslaved to the charmer’s will

Still, eyes closed,

My heart flutters

And recreate Love as I deem it was,

In my previous life!

 

 

I, Cristoforo Colombo

I, Cristoforo Colombo, dying but not dead
Waiting to set sail on my fifth voyage finally
Know that I shall be remembered and dismembered
By those whose uncharted lives I leave behind–
I know a day will dawn
When my face will be splashed across
A conspiracy of postage stamps
With someone throwing this mariner a bone:
A holiday celebrating my day in the Caribbean sun.
I can still see San Salvador on sleepless nights:
A speck from the unrepentant Atlantic,
The waves rising skywards like my prayers–
I brought the New World to the Old:-
Gold, spices, and slaves-
And I murdered in God’s name.
I, Cristoforo Colombo, blessed by Isabella,
Mouth this monologue as my last testament
To the ungrateful living dead.

Where Thought and Conscience Lustily Embrace..

Savoring the the exquisite taste of lonely hours of my being,

I sing in the golden cage of solitude, feeling, thinking and seeing,

I communicate with myself about the essence of my being,

I hear the eternal melodies that carry intrinsic meaning.

Locked in the confinement of solitude, my feelings become universe,

I see the light and all the memories of gloom slowly disperse,

Letting my imagination to take wings in the stillness of space,

In to a vastness where sky and earth interlace.

Here I meet the Creator with face to face,

My thought and conscience lustily embrace,

Floating around the lake of crystal space,

Leaving this cruel world of caste, creed and race.

End of all aimless drifting,I am now back on base,

Cherishing the gift of life that God gave us to human race,

More beautiful than heaven is this immortal place,

A rare oasis full of bliss and grace.

Soul should walk alone sometimes to see the beauty,

To experience the selfless love to do its duty,

In my journey beyond the boundaries of ethnicity,

My soul merged in union with other souls amidst all diversities.

© K.Radhakrishnan

 

Faith in humanity

Peace flies all over the world

Dressed in the invisible veil that life gifted to her

Spreading her sparkles everywhere

Hoping with all her heart, to see humans,

Imbibed with these,

Hugging each other for no reason

Tolerating each other out of their elevated consciousness

And loving each other sincerely!

 

But peace flies high up in the atmosphere

Little does she know

That as her sparkles fall on Earth

They get captured by the monster of darkness

Who pollutes them with his negativity

Before releasing them again on humanity!

 

Pray, what the monster knows not though,

Is that humans have the power to cleanse these back

Into their original state!

All it requires is an open heart

A positive intent,

And the well grasped notion

That life and Earth,

Belongs to naught!

 

Peace, keeps on flying, trusting the humans

Even if she unaware of the lurking monster hiding

Beneath her,

She flies and carries out her duty

As she knows that somehow, someday,

All of humanity shall wake!

 

You and my poem

Today, I would have you in my dream
Walking between the lines of my poem
In the wee hours of this rainy day
It must be an unusual dark night
Light from your eyes must lit it
Fragrance of Elanji flowers must arise from-
Your footprints knocking lines on both sides
Your hands should be moving above the lines
Patting letters assuming their roles among others
I will sharp my ears to hear the silent words
You utter in reflex in each single step of yours
I will twine them with a delicate thread of light
And will hang the garland by the eastern-window
To adorn the new day. For, that kind of a poem
Can’t be written for eyes; but just be left silent.
Today, I would have you in my dream
Walking between the lines of my poem

 

Sarala

Checkmate

Storm under my ship

quiet sea otherwise , 

whether a nightmare 

or devils glee ? 

I take the challenge 

and ready for the revenge , 

ship engines throttle

with power doubled ,

shaking though

my decks will glow , 

sun will shine

bright , and aye

soon I will be fine . 

My gal beside ,

love personified ,

juggling between 

silence and words , 

touch affection 

passion compassion , 

Success and Fame

Chess is the game , 

I will make a move ,

Rule my fate , 

my last one will be

a sure Checkmate !

©Dr. Swati A Gadgil, All Rights Reserved.

An Amber Patch

Rustling through the tanned leaves
soaked in the aroma of fresh breeze;
Treading on soothing, forsaken trails
 life’s pleasures are but little marvels.
 Far off, gleaming, playful rays are seen
 romancing with the alpine trees, serene;
 Engrossed in the rhythm of nature’s grind
 all are dancing on a set tune of time.
 In this orange grove, runs wild sensation;
 Love lost among the Creator’s creations.

 

Copyright: DrNikhat Bano
All rights reserved
Image credit: Google
November 5, 2017.

When Summer Returns

When Summer returns,

the last of the bones

will have been buried,

the endless lists of names

will have been erased,

even the memories of those names

will be forgotten;

When Summer returns,

meadows again will bloom

hiding their terrible scars,

under the green and growing

nourished by the dust

buried beneath;

When Summer came,

the gates swung open,

they poured in,

one vast tide of flesh.