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  Jul 2016 Jeff Stier
Valsa George
It had rained all night
And drenched the land outright
Leaving puddles and pools,
Here, there and everywhere.
But the morning saw
The sun blazing ever more bright

I watched the water
Flowing silently away
With no ostentation
Along channels, furrows and waterways
Cavities, crevices and culverts
And through ditches and drains
What little remained,
Seeped down unnoticed
Through innumerable pores unseen.

As prisoners from narrow cells
Suddenly released into boundless space
Or troops from a garrison
On a spurt of fresh attack
The children shut indoors
Came out in gangs
To romp, jump and play.
Unmindful of anything,
      They soon lost in a wave of giggles.

But how sudden was the change!
The sky over cast with dark clouds
Fired out like a water cannon.
Once more the rain,
Cascaded down with greater vengeance
Each drop weighing gallons
And the silver needles pricking deep
Making the children flee
In directions all round
Like autumn leaves
Scattered by the wind!
The rain continued to pour
Inundating the low lying lands

Oh! Mother Nature
How erratic are your moods
How unpredictable
How like a child throwing tantrums
And how quickly appeased!
July is the month we get maximum rain in Kerala... Sometimes it will rain for days together... But the sunny intervals in between showers are most cherished by children and they get out from confinement to play out door, unwary of Nature’s tricks!!
Jeff Stier Jul 2016
If my poem is color
then I will wave
every freaking color
as a badge

If I declare
amnesty for every poem
and vow
that no harm will befall
any poem

then I swear
they will remain here
on my verdant fields unharmed

So Sisters
Brothers
bring your lost
your wounded poems
to me at last

They will be well tended
They will not be misplaced.
For Luiz Canha Machado ( of course!)
  Jul 2016 Jeff Stier
Valsa George
Carrying the fever and heat
Of love’s first flame
I set out on a journey
Expectant and anxious,
Sealed and tight lipped
All emotions bottled.

From port to port I journeyed
Travelling in a little love vessel
What a heavy cargo of dreams I carried
With the scent of memories perfumed

Did a black cat cross my path?

Behind all veils of cloud
Hope lingered
My spirit….
Pulsating inside
My senses….
Waiting for the moment of beatitude!

Skyward I flew
Floating through the air to land
Finally in your trembling hands
Dreaming of a nameless delight
Bursting open at the earliest moment

With my heart beats rising hoarse
You slit my mouth,
Pulled my soul out.
But,
Gnarling at my face
Mercilessly you tore me into bits
And threw me into the bin

In the Westerly wind
Slivers of me flew about
Like ghosts unable to get back to their graves

After whirling naked in the gust of wind
Pieces of me fell down one by one
To lie inert on the ground
Gasping for the final breath

Did the firmament tattooed by stars
Mock at my pitiable plight?
  Jul 2016 Jeff Stier
Torin
From first call to final rights
The door badge a colorful arrangement
Announcing only loss
We lose the plot
We march in procession to the grave
Our uneneding disposition
We only wake for the deceased
The mourners
The bereaved
All that remains
And how does it register?
When we speak the language of death
Jeff Stier Jul 2016
My avid gaze
spoke to the rosary
of your flesh

My heartsick tremors
marked me as a wanted man
and burned the villages
of my ancestors

I was a refugee
from time
a friend to no man

My tears washed the blood
from my hands
my eyes withered
the tender bud

So when did I read poetry
on your lips?

Did your mountains fracture
and disintegrate into
sparkling shards
as mine did?

Was the moon an egg
in your basket
as it was in mine?

Little do we know
of the other
when first we clasp hands
and agree

In time
and with luck
we learn.
I tried to write a poem in the style of Pablo Neruda.
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