Today we start afresh Leaving all that’s old Those transitory joys and stretched worries… Withered buds and faded sketches Yesterdays were colorless dreams Those colored were severed abruptly Never to resume over again Even when our adverse tiffs Hung like murky rain clouds With looming roar and rumble Quiescence spread sluggishly, and Far away, I hearkened accord that Swept my mucky sorrows away Even when our swearing lips Chose to flout our promises to each other And the guiding stars bereft us On barren dunes with sand castles I saw a beam of beacon Yonder in the land of spring and mirth As the sunrise’s embers Blush our hearts May the glow of your eyes Erase our life’s darkness As the early morning dew Kisses our souls May the beam on your lips Add serenity to our life Yesterday’s cinder is almost cold The flame of Tomorrow Deceits with its fickle smile Today is what’s worth To drink our passion’s nectar To fulfill our Love’s purpose. ***************************************
What is this force that strings my heart
coaxes, plucks and splits apart
melts my body´s wall of ice
the spell is conjured
I am enticed
Loves slow hand seducing me
to the point of no return
to the depths of heaven
where deep desire,
inside me burns
An urge to surrender to the silent ache
a cry to come, claim and take
things slow, no, lets not rush
taste the tease
like a teenage crush
Is there a treasure there for me?
a price to pay, a gift for free?
who´s to know, who can tell
let´s deep dive into
this wishing well.
Is this a duet or a dance of fools?
pivot, pull and ponder days
full of wonder, our love imbues
Mixing the murky pool
waters of me and you.
No strings, no strings, except the ones he plays.
Written on 27th July 2018
They wanted to sail on the sea of life.
They built an ideal ship as in dreams.
Frederick and Geraldine, his sweet wife
Began sailing to explore new extremes.
Sometimes, he used to call her ‘’Crystallind.’’
On their ship, they carried good merchandise.
And he taught her to scream in the wind,
Creepy creeps with strong thoughts to harmonize.
He wore glasses, and his blue eyes were eyes
Of loveliness, when she called him ‘’Firstborn.’’
He was as a child, but one wondrous wise,
He had black tresses that were never shorn.
From the watery green, their happiness
Touched the abstracted infinite of the sky-
The land was a thought- ‘twas togetherness
In that place where that much, no bird could fly.
She could do so many things in bad days,
But if she stopped loving him, she would die.
Being pregnant in that garden of praise,
She received a heart emerald thereby.
‘Twas a day to meet the ship of pirates
In searching for treasures in the islands.
She saw the danger through her man’s iris.
The pirates attacked them to take diamonds.
Frederick, the child, leaped inside her womb.
His father and the crew started to fight.
The pirates’ ship went to the waters’ tomb,
And Holy tears was poured on them for light.
(to be continued)
Poem by Marieta Maglas
Did I lose you somewhere
Between the hyacinth and the ribbons
The pleats and folds of my adult drape?
I know you still wait for me, my moon
As the night flutters, the unfailing rose
Drunk with solitude and honeyed longing.
I breathe shallow and deep, my eyes
Swept away by stardust, I am alone
Your milk, eager and firm, waits for me
At the shore of the night.
Between my trembling lips and voice,
Your song hides in the fugitive wind,
Slender and silent, you walk away,
Barefoot, soaking in the night’s last ashes.
Did I call you, my white hills
Breaking, sinking at the wake of dawn?
I return to the day, dust blown
Crushing sand beneath my feet,
You have sliced me to pieces,
I move, unsure, forlorn, in spirals
Of smoke as I call you out
My moorings trapped in the day, dying.
Lopa Banerjee. Written in February 2015
Do my dirty walls rain, still?
Dots imprinted on dark leaves, scrawling,
Pressing their heads to the crushing dust of human pain?
Do the fingers still dig into
The dark, unfathomable whole,
Beneath the ribs, the pain, stark dead, burning?
Do the primal clouds of monsoon jump in puddles, still?
Longing to steam, to cry in small streams,
Ripples and kisses, running down, the deluge
Slitting throats, trampling my primordial breast?
I have seen the skin, blood, bones
Of the rain, hung on to thirsty fingers
Licking the pickled salt of a fleshy pain.
Is it mine, still?
Forgot its name since we last held hands.
Does it still rumble, growl inside,
The billowing cloud-fire, the necklace of grief?
The night, jumping, leaping, sticking her tongue out
For one last dance, entwines me,
Stumbling over, as I listen to mourning ghosts,
Moving around, in circles, the earth
A whisper of sprinkled ashes of pain?
The smoke, a translucent fusion,
Do I drink it whole? The murky waters
Ruminating on the slumber-buried drone of pain.
Do I shake it off like old dust? Here it comes back
Peels and hums amid grinning, littered rain.
The bird rests beneath the rusted bricks and walls
The flash of cool light, of rain, long gone.
The heart of the wind beating amid the dead leaves in rain,
I stand, smothered between the damp walls,
Breaking and sinking, birdlike, aflame, drowning.
The fangs of the night unfold,
Faint footsteps resound,
Silvery beams of moonlight.
The dark woods,
Dense canopy of trees,
The pitch black,
Skin slicing through
Let the moon stay,
Let us make love.
Lopa Banerjee. February 9, 2015
Stilled beyond existence
lets the clouds
I try to blend in
but I’m kicked out-
and I give in…
Passion is a star
that glints at me
From spaces afar…
I no more
feel its heat
or its core…
outside my heart
like my whim…
I bite my lip,
find the last
warm bit’s tip…
I stop moving
like I care…
But bits of truth
that pain shows
I slowly return
to the sky that
starts to burn…
I’ll find you glowing
And… I will be
Stilled beyond existence
One last time…
~ sana rose ~
November 25th, 2012