SEASCAPES (dedicated to Maestro Alexey Shor after listening to his SEASCAPES)

Where the heart
will feel no more pain
as its tears merge
with the tides of the sea
and all land is left behind
in that emerald mystery

where no dust
will pollute nor
human voice suffocate
in that cleansing
is the death of sorrow
and life is set free

rise, oh rise
you sanctifying sea
come, oh come
sing to me
let me dwell
in your *****
lift, oh lift me
let me, let me die
in your wondrous beauty

midnight, no moon tonight
darkness shrouds the lighthouse
long abandoned
crumbled into unrecorded history

in the chronicle of time
all dreams and hopes
go to sleep, where even love
claims no longer
its once splendoured memory
farewell, oh farewell then
each life is but a sail
frail, wind-battered, lonely

mark, oh mark
a storm is gathering
sombre is the sky
lightning flashes
but there's no wailing
nothing will ever rob
the sea of its eternal
tranquillity

the seasons will revisit
each bearing a new hope
promise and a story
of man's search and endeavour
summer hails in bright sunshine
the sea will sing new songs again
as it follows its silent course
into its predestined unblemished eternity

12.30 pm, Thursday 18th June, Melb, Australia

Reading is like eating
      proper tasting and chewing--no swallowing.

This is a typical travelogue:
bad food, poor sleep, rude people, cultural shock!

Why engage in a dialogue?
    most die in deadlock

A poet should not be a High Priest
he would infamously misplease

The future is not time
it's what I'll make sublime

Bells are made to ring
lips of girls are created for kissing

Give me the very hour
it will be my opportunity to empower

The mundane and trivial--give me
I will turn it my way into beauty

That which someone claims to be truth
    it prefers to stay away and remain mute

I couldn't carry my weight
it caused me to stumble
couldn't even walk to the nearest gate
the **** of joke of the people-

she looked at me--beautiful Jade
and this she said: sloth is your trouble
yet I love you still--listen to what I've said
'exercise, don't over-eat--don't you dare grumble-

six months will be the test--not a day late
your report-card I'll keep-- quite simple!
it's all up to you- don't blame fate
persevere-- all day--by the double!'

the challenge I took up-- I did great
twenty kilos I shed-- I won the gamble!
we got married-- what a joy to celebrate
in Tuscany- isn't love the most wondrous miracle?

In public circulation
   but knows no home
   belongs to everyone
   never to one's own

   does die bit by bit
   the given-to-all person
   the adulation received
   is at the end-  deadly poison

How shall I define love
by the light of your eyes
the sunshine of your smile
the radiance of the rainbow that never dies?

Lend me the  hidden words
of your heart that speak of love's paradise
weave me a bouquet that withers never
every kiss we exchange surely an eternal vow signifies.

The seashore of life
is no place to look for treasures
here is but sand and pebbles
tide-battered shells
fragments of mussels
sunbaked seaweeds
fallen leaves, broken twigs
shreds of seared branches
and strange enough
even torn pages of castaway
goodbye love-letters


a witness
to time's history
and its ravages
a testament of
mankind's sad
and silent chapters

if you should walk by
in the dead of night
you would hear
it singing the dirge
of unfulfilled lovers

of perished dreams
of sunken hopes
of painful despairs
in tearful sobs
and whispers

feel, oh feel well
the pulse of its melancholy
listen, oh listen
to its wild heart-beats
in wild tremours
imagine, oh image
how it howls
in its raging tempers

enquire, oh enquire
where it nestles

its home is none other
than the deluge
of the tattered heart-
the most tearful metaphor
of all known metaphors.

Yacov...you are a profound writer.  Writers often see the same things in different ways but the essence is retained and the intrinsic beauty of these things is not lost--indeed, such beauty is enhanced- this speaks of the fecudity of fine minds.
For this reason, we should read the works of others to learn, to understand more, to grow and such engagement should never stop.

On the stage of poets, each of us is a an actor--we need not be the centrepiece--it suffices even if we play a small part, as long as we fulfil that role well- we are there not to excel or compete, but to share--in joy and openness.

For me, being in HelloPoetry is an endless journey and I walk in patience and humility--I need not rush--beauty takes time to blossom and I am still growing my flowers in this garden.
Like all others,  I am infinitely grateful to be given the opportunity to be in this portal that opens a wide world of enchantment to us all as fellow-travellers.

Many thanks to you and others who have read what I have written.  I have enjoyed all of yours and look forward to reading more in future.  

I remain

yours humbly

Peter,  Melbourne

My love is no feather
that rocks to and fro
it's a dove in my heart's centre
constant in every weather it ceases never to grow

love-birds fly to the sky
we are the never-parting pair
the world is just you and I
where you are, I am there.

.......depression rises*
my heart dies
never to feel again
the deadened pain

I've always stood alone*
without which myself I would not own
the world flows in whatever way it must
to live, only myself should I trust

Theresa,  we learn from others as every writer has their own voice and no doubt what we have experienced finds its outlet through our words.  We love, we feel, we laugh and we cry which is what life is all about but poetry makes us stronger, kinder, tenderer and more humane--we reach out to a wider dimension that has wonder and grandeur and leave behind the sad, the mundane and trivial--every poem is a celebration of life---we shall then stand on top of the mountain and proclaim to the elements: We live, we write and we never despair!

There's memory
that knows only the lane
of lost beauty
of what's left but pain

dreams that couldn't be
they return to taunt time and again
the heart shall never be set free
life is chaff without a single grain.

Now I am getting old
here's the beauty of grace
love still has stories to be told
laughter will light my face

as into yours I behold-
in life's every phase
no season shall be cold
as we travel to our future days

It would be folly
for someone to say:
we are born to understand

living is being
cast by life's trajectory
into a foreign land

the philosophers have
got it so very wrong:
examine and wisdom is at hand

I'll not be swayed
by this school of thought or that
I am not born to understand

All roads travelled
     to futile advantage
     there's no hope of peace or joy
     but people's rancour and rage

     I've to return to
    where I started
     re-write my script--
     my past pages are wasted

     calm, o calm my heart
     let your narrative be restated
     stay unfazed in your charted territory
     unkindness and callousness would be repeated

     hold on to yourself dearly then
     lest your misery be exacerbated
     reap the harvest from the seed you sowed
     in humility-- it's a life worthy of being celebrated.

Without the in-between
     past and future they exist not
     time to contemplate what has been
     what to follow next is the centre of thought.

The beginning
shall have it all
the ending
that it shall recall.

When the world is ending
what voice could I trust?
only that in the calmness of poetry
safely I'll be  home at last.

Love is a nondescript
but we can't push it away or ignore
it's a lonely personal trip
with time we'll begin to understand more

Maybe tomorrow
I will choose myself
instead of someone else   (from her poem)

May I add?

Why have I
myself forsaken
for so long
as though
I wished
my heart to die?

Why did I deny
that sanctity
that was my lifeline?

Why did I
look away
from the light
in my silent plight?

Why did I
my feelings hide
when love was beckoning
and time seemed to be right?

Now I will choose myself
the time is ripe
I will let go my shadows
I will live, I will survive!

Yet from afar--verily
I won't let you go
beyond the sanctity
of love, nothing do I know

Dear Madam,

Welcome to Melbourne!

I hope I could live up to the image
that you attribute to me.

Am I not human like all my fellow-men?

If there were any consolation,
it would be that I should not harm anyone
as life is already full of pain and suffering.

If there were happiness,
I wouldn't want more than I deserve
as there are hundreds of millions
who are more needy.

Happiness that is sought
without regard to the welfare of others
is selfish and dwarfs the person.

We should teach our kids and grandkids
that character is more important
than knowledge, success and money.

Let us never be ungrateful
or take what we enjoy for granted.

If we could reach out to people
in dire conditions, let us not walk away.

Let us be cognisant that we are all connected
in common humanity and that to act inhumanly
is a smear on our character.

The Universe has its rules and order
and we would grow within it
if we develop love and compassion.

The Persian culture is so rich
as is our Chinese-
let us in utmost humility embrace
the noble, the good, the beautiful
and the sublime.

Despite our weaknesses and frailties,
we all have ample potential to do good.

I hope you and family will realise your hopes in our beautiful country.

sincerely
P

Bad writing
is prevalent
virulent, insolent-
the writer's very dying

Good writing is more important
than the best manners
and the finest clothes.

I'll turn this wasteland
    into a garden after my heart
   love shall lend a helping hand
   to ever abide and never to part

  as we labour through dust and sand
  in inspired spirit and unflinching art
  when hearts are united until the end
  love shall blossom sweeter than the start.

Love has journeyed too far^ --   by night and day-
it's beyond the reach of my heart
ten thousand miles keep me away
all my hopes and dreams they fall apart

gloom has hung so low^
my flowers have gone to sleep^
the morrows will bring no glow
my bleeding sorrows# is all that I keep.

The seasons know their ripening
we should in humble patience wait
their beauty is blemished by our hurrying
how then could we ever celebrate?

Meet me not
in these grey winter years
enough have we spoken
words would lethally pierce

our hearts-- silence is never so dear-
this is not the time for regretful tears
love's last petals have fallen on the frozen snow
sentiments that are dead no longer harbour fears.

It would be too late to salvage
the waste of torn-past years
time has openly spoken
the hearer is brought to tears

the heart has strayed
from its rightful abode
the mind has misled
regret it has wrought

life is ever the deceitful terrain
temptation does take the centre-stage
love trembles in constant fears
lovers live in restless rage

amidst the ruin and anguish
no longer could the sufferer engage
in a long-lost conversation as before
emptiness is the inheritance of old age.

Frozen winter tears
lover walked miles for old love
hope he never lost

No 'ought to'
for me
what is
is reality.

No 'could have been'
sign of regret
nothing have I lost
what's to forget?

No ' another chance'
the hour is now
the future is faraway
I stand my ground.

No ' I should have'
that's the language of losers
glad with what I have done
never mind I am not among the winners.

She walks in the snow
  clinging to her wailing child
  her eyes well in tears

Winter brings its song
breaks the lonely forlorn heart
love is not the same

Love-letter received
lover's hand trembles to read
feelings are frozen

Old age is winter
   memories buried in snow
   spring seems faraway

Bald trees and branches
dark-brown leaves strewn on wet ground
winter stamps its feet

If you are
too busy
or in great hurry
don't write poetry!

The waiting
is the harvesting

the longing
is the loving

the wishing
is the dreaming

the fearing
is the dying

Odyssey
what Odyssey?
here I am
I stand free

life is real
not mythology
I breathe, I feel
I live---I long to be

why the distant waters?
deep enough herein I could see
why seek will-o'-the wisp
chasing the impossibility?

I claim to be no hero
in my vulnerability
all that I should do
is to embrace that which is before me.

The fire of life
might fade a while
it will be relighted
and will never die

..and such are moments
in life that leave you agape
the world is shrouded in grey
and the day's landscape is out of shape-

friendship suddenly turns silent
in strange garments it does drape
love does not keep its appointment
the heart is in lockdown and can't escape

When I am not alone
myself I hardly own.