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In the village today is one more widow.

Only last night
on the warm love bed
was smudged her sindoor
all over forehead!


Her skin is still raw with his claw,

his neck fell today to the jungle's law.
People living in the fringe of the Sundarbans go inside the forest to hunt for honey, fish and *****, putting them at risk for a tiger attack. In almost every village there is a man or woman commonly referred to as a " Tiger Widow".
 Sep 2015 Joe Cole
Sjr1000
poetry
 Sep 2015 Joe Cole
Sjr1000
Poetry is too long too short too harsh
too real to ******* believe
when you're down on your knees begging for forgiveness for everything you feel.

poetry is too hot too cold too bold to fold.
too real to really feel
unless your heart is breaking.

poetry explodes your soul creates heat creates cold. drives the trembling soul right through that ******* hole.

poetry is all I know.
I learn a long time ago just how real that you are here on the earth.
You have reveal yourself to me in so many different levels here.
I seen just exactly how Real you are throughout my whole life.
You could had let me die as a infant, but you gave me a purpose.
That needed to be fulfill here just like you did for so many others.
So many of us your people, have seen you in a light that powerful.
For you really do reveal yourself to those that seek you whole heartily.
For he Loves us and holds our life  in his hands, healing us as well.
Allowing no harm to befall us, that would take our life from here.
Until the time that he deems that is our time to go home to heaven.
 Sep 2015 Joe Cole
Savion
You really have to watch those liberal males,
they'll spend hours and hours with you having
deep intellectual conversations.

They'll discuss deep ideas, contemplate esoteric
theory and spiritual ideas. They'll make love
for hours and write deep and meaningful poetry
about you. Sure, they will probably wear their hair
long and most likely won't own a television.

But, they'll understand art and architecture and
literature. It's true that they probably won't give two
shakes about who won what football game, but they'll
dance with you late at night under the stars and they're
always looking for new ways to please you and usually
understand your deepest thoughts, often before you
understand them yourself.

They'll be your best friend and always treat you as
an equal, in fact, it will never even enter their mind
that you're not. They're almost always physically fit, too,
because they're usually the outdoorsy type and love to hike.
They never make fun of others, or discuss small ideas.
They enjoy discussing ways to improve the world and
the lives of others.

Sure, they won't slap you on your *** and tell you to get in
the kitchen and cook them some dinner and bring them a beer
while you're at it like those macho men on the right. Instead
they'll probably tell you to relax while they whip you up a
gourmet meal and serve it to you on the best dishes.

Yeah, you really gotta watch out for those liberal males.
I wrote this in response to a derogatory comment about liberal men.
dead bodies floating
in our oceans
from the Asian Pacific
to the Mediterranean

crumpled corpses lying
on our beaches
thousands drowned unknown

overcrowded detention centers
not unlike concentration camps
behind barbed wires
guarded by police and snarling dogs

nobody feels responsible

not  those who started wars
destroyed whole cities
made millions homeless
and into refugees

not those who take advantage
of the chaos for their own gain
abusing the names of their gods
or some ancient figurehead
to excuse their atrocities and greed

not those who live
in comfortable homes
and wish the desperate crowds
would just stay on the TV screen
and not come close

nor those who pretend
to be the guardians
of our great humanitarian heritage
but show no backbone
against nationalist fanatics

it is the shame of the world
to sit and talk and watch
and not do enough

those who turn away
the needy and homeless
could also
      quite suddenly
lose their homes

forced to rely
on the kindness of strangers
 Sep 2015 Joe Cole
Tryst
What Hope Remained?

What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?
        When putrid plumes dulled morning into night
        Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent,
        As mortals wept and earthborn angels went
        With downcast eyes to clamber heavens height.

What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?
        When panicked sirens wailed a lost lament
        And backs were bowed beneath ungodly weight,
        Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent
        As boots bore souls up treadmills burnt and bent
        To scale a void devoid of dawning light.

What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?
        For those in sight of angels heaven sent
        Atop the world to aid their mortal plight,
        Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent.

        When wingless brethren conquered feared ascent
        To gift last hope to all who saw their might:

                What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?
                Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent.



In The Fall

I chanced upon a stranger in the fall,
Cosmetic garb of office black and white
Portraying calm demeanor of his plight
As shadows panicked on a stricken wall,

And oft' I find my mind in numb recall
To look upon that helpless human kite
Who tumbled from the terrors of a height,
Yet graceful as an eagle in a stall

Before it plummets earthward --   'Neath the pall
Of twisted steel rended by follied flight,
That stranger lives forever in the light
Suspended in iconic timeless sprawl.

        I wonder, in the briefness of his fall,
        Did he derive the meaning of it all?
What Hope Remained: In memory of the three hundred and forty three firefighters of FDNY that fell on Tuesday 11th September 2001, who fought without hope to bring hope to the lost.

In The Fall: Dedicated to "The Falling Man" of Tuesday September 11th 2001, in memory of him and those like him who chose the manner of their own end, when the only choice on that day of days was how, not if or when.
Don't ask me why today I bought
That little balsa wood airplane
One like many I had when I was a kid
I want to think that I've grown up
But somewhere inside I never did
I saw it yesterday and I just had to have it
Though I don't know why
So I pulled out a few hard earned dollars
And bought this memory that flys
It has a red propeller
That's powered by a rubber band
And two red wheels attached with wire
To help it safely land
I can't recall how many of these
I've pioleted through the years
I'm sure at least a few or more
Way back in my yesteryears
It amazes me sometimes now that I am older
That the sight of such a little thing
Can bring a forgotten memory back to life
Like a balsa wood airplane

RLB
I remember so clearly playing with a balsa wood airplane on many a summer day. If I could go back and be a kid again for just one day I think I'd fly a balsa wood airplane.That little boy from long ago still wants to play sometime, but he's all grown up now.
Wait, I have my airplane and its a beautiful summer day ,"Honey!Ill be outside for a while."
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