Ethereal - Hello Poetry

Mar 2016

r

If she would only let me
climb the vines of her braids
lie in the shade by the creek
sip water from her slippers
slip the gown from her shoulders
taste the raisins of her *******
die in her arms 1000 times
the widow beneath a willow.

Mar 2016

Pradip Chattopadhyay

On the Rotwood Bridge

When the dusts settle from the last wheel
and the sickle moon stoops on the bamboo grove
the dead rise in the whispers of the southern breeze.

You may hear them splashing the canal's water
beneath the hazed halo of one quarter
by nocturne music of barn owl and crickets
in lights of glowworms from darkest thickets.

If you stop on the Rotwood Bridge
can hear them sing in gay abandon
though we're now all dead old spirits
the night can't make us anymore forlorn.

The twin moon may from the ripples broken
beckon you and if your spirit awakens
take a plunge for a joyous down go
amid cheers from the watery hollow.

Mar 2016

Viola

Shhhhhh.....ut up

A whisper inaudible
Left to the night
Falls not upon
Listener
Expressing delight
A secret
Meant not to be kept
But not intended to be shared
Is left to listless apathy
As noone cared
We all say things
That nobody hears
Hushing our shame and fears
Thinking shyly of dreams
In the silence
I can hear our screams

Mar 2016

Keith Wilson

ME THE TREE

An  inanimate  object.

I'm  a  lovely  tree  in  summer.
Pure  emerald  green  leaves,
sweeping  down  towards  earth.

I'm  in  a  quiet  corner  of  the  park.
Away  from  the  maddening  crowd.

Spring  is  nice  when  flowers
grow  below  my  trunk.

Winter  is  cold  and  dank.
With  snow  and  rain  streaming  down.

In  winter  they  call  me  skeletal.
With  my  curled  and  twisted  branches.

At  least  I'm  sheltered  here.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

Mar 2016

Rapunzoll

Embers of a Forgotten Past

The sun forgave itself
long ago, for burning too bright,
it scorched our touching palms,
cheek to cheek, it burnt.*

That night we whispered
A song to the reeds,
Let it drift down that
Wayward line of memories,
Let it settle in the graves
Of each bed we slept in.

We let fate colour our
Hearts recklessly, like a
Child who can't stay
Within the confined lines
Of their drawing book.

Until the dawn began,
And we let our skin simmer,
Melting on each other's lips.
Until we are only skeletons
Embracing through a
World set in flames.

"This is the way the world ends.
Not with a bang but a whimper.' —T.S. Eliot

© copyright

#love #heartbreak #poem #sad #depression #life #pain #death #hurt #thoughts

Mar 2016

Benjamin Adekunle

Rest Well Ma

Tis now I know
Tis now I can tell
Thinking all in life will glow
Everyday we gnawed in pain
Worry Not She Would Return

Tell Momma life been hard
If ever there was a ray of sunshine
Momma left,
In the land she bore me into
Her Return Unknown

Oloruku, the days of solitude,
the pregnant sky had to give
Each day repeating itself to torment
Sunday, the day not to forget
She Would Return You Said, To The Tent

The child is now a man
Without you there's profusion of sorrow
Though I write, momma i don't know
that which took you away, no return momma
Remember, Remember You Were Once Human.

No matter how Long.. They're still with us.. Rest in Peace Ma...

#rip #elizabeth #rememberance #momma

Mar 2016

Grace

Inhumation

The sky was cerulean
Above the graveyard
Where unused toys
Were laid on the
Pregnant bump
Before the headstone.

An old man and his grandson
Watched the procession
From the hospital window.

Mar 2016

Benjamin Adekunle

Ad-Vice

Live a life people will want to have
Stop existing and start living
'cos tomorrow is unknown and our father
Knows already how it will end.
Love more and hate less, but don't be stupid
In all, Learn to Live Life Loud.

#friends #mood #hpers

Mar 2016

Walter W Hoelbling

spring has come (reposted)

on the first day of spring
my mother died

she had always loved flowers
and had turned
our interior hallway
into a luscious greenhouse
   father was not always happy
   about the falling leaves

in her later years
when skiing was no longer hers
she hated winters
   their long nights
   their waning sun

she was always longing
   for spring
waiting for the day
the morning sun lit up
the kitchen desk again
in her parents’ house
where she was born
   and had grown old

the night before
I had called and told her
that here in the south
the first flowers were already
   dotting the gardens

she had smiled on the phone
   almost inaudibly
speaking had become difficult

   maybe her last images
   were of colorful spring meadows

today at 7.10 a.m.
my mother died

spring has come

On the occasion of the 10th anniversary of my mother's unexpcted death.

#death #flowers #mother #spring

Mar 2016

Randolph Llewellyn Wilson

Terminus

What maniacal deception lies beyond these dulled streetlights
Along seeable avenues under the nights waning , Gibbous Moon
Burrows of iniquity , soma profiles along deafening boulevards ..

Mar 2016

Sanna Tirkey

Ethereal Nature

A pebble to a mountain;
from waterfall to the sea;
What a beauty of nature,
we have obtained just for free.
Fragrance of flowers,
buzzing of the bees;
Glistening of snow,
mystical sight of horizon.
Our Earth,itself is a heaven;
Angels are the birds,
Brownies are the animals of sizes,
We on the earth is the real magic.
But far from our world,lies this;
No fracas, no false decoration,
Gift of God is just so different than what we have made it.
So enthusiastic, eye treat,
no *******, full of greenary.
Enthrals you, captivates you in its purity.
Wow, the nature is so natural.

You can't run away from nature. You inhale and exhale it, just try to feel it sometimes.

#love #nature #heaven

Mar 2016

Sally A Bayan

A THOUSAND DEATHS

Every death
I have felt, or known,
In silence, i mourn,
Within my breath...

No words come upfront
Just thoughts, preponderant...

I'd feel the freezing cold of an empty space
Feel the absence...clearly imagine a lost face
No smiles, spanning from cheek to cheek
Eyes, seek answers...
suddenly, I'm there by the shallow water of the creek
While some nearby creatures quietly chirp...and squeak
While I......... I could not even speak...

Living,
Is realizing...and accepting
At the right time, they turn brown, the weeds...and reeds,
But, under the water...waiting, growing...are their seeds
Brown ferns...are almost detached from a mossy concrete wall
With a strong current, and wind, they'd be carried...ready to fall

The driftwood lying by the shore...is always wet, but petrified
Brown fallen leaves, on the green grass...no more hold...crisp and dried,
The dead bark of a tree...in pieces...are crumbling...
Merging with the wet earth...in a process of fertilizing
Deep down under ....a fresh spark of life is starting.
All these, remind,
Life and death stand side by side,
That in the midst of death-
Something new is birthed...
When faced with death,
there is always someone's living breath
And, as long as the heart wills to beat
Then, life.....will still exist.

Hundreds, or a thousand times,
We all have died
In the high and low of life's tides,
Physically,
Emotionally.

We remember
Those who have left
Those who have survived..are still around
We think of those who are next to leave,
Waiting for their chests' final heave

---And then, we think of ourselves---

Worry not of our own time
Make each of our remaining days
Be golden, beaming, and bright
With good deeds, and straight pathways

The earth is a moving circle
It makes a round.......as it spins
We try to live outwards....and then, within
Any way we live it...life is an endless cycle.

Sally

Copyright March 23, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

***A HAPPY EASTER TO EVERYONE!!! ***

#*** #cycle #circle #thousand #deaths