John Stevens: Favorites

Oct 2018 John Stevens

Pradip Chattopadhyay

She smiled to the proposal.

I marked on paper the site
where screeching gulls
would shut out our voice
and her toes white as rice
curl in the touch of waves
waiting a freakish wind
pushing mine into hers
passing seconds to eternity.

She felt vaguely beautiful
when my shoulder held the earth
shaped like her head.

Do you still love me?
my silence questioned,
but she said nothing.

I thought I heard,
Yes.

If she returns to your dreams, her love is alive.

Oct 2018 John Stevens

The Old Blanket

Oct 2018 John Stevens

Pradip Chattopadhyay

The Old Blanket

The old blanket is so hard to discard

dramas have unfolded in its folds
upheavals of winter's orogeny
trills of two birds in ecstatic thrill
to the rest in the ripened knowledge

we have made a home
we have earned it.

In the still of night
under the old blanket
the tales are relived
without a touch
a word..

The old blanket is so hard to discard.

Oct 2018 John Stevens

Familiar Faces

Oct 2018 John Stevens

Pradip Chattopadhyay

Familiar Faces

Most of the people hate isolation
only a few taking it as blessing
and such is the one I'm talking about.

What if the familiar have shunned me,
he would say, the world is now mine,
to the strangers I bare my heart,
as they do to me, a complete stranger,
in the once and possibly the only meet
between people otherwise divided
exchanging thoughts and contacts
sure no call would ever follow
but happy in the chance encounter.

He thus meets a melange of people,
the man whose wife fled with her lover,
the woman whose husband deserted her
but she still wears red in his name,
the son abandoned in childhood
the old woman disowned by son.

He takes all their sadness into him
and feels his own greatly diminished
thankful that fate hasn't been as harsh
or how he would have coped with
the misfortunes that befelled those strangers.

He bows his head, for in the isolation,
he knew how it hurts to be deprived of
what was obviously legitimate.

Oct 2018 John Stevens

Devi 2018

Oct 2018 John Stevens

Pradip Chattopadhyay

Devi 2018

Where are you Devi ?

Up in the Kailasha
in the arms of Mahadeva
snowclad silent in meditation
while down below in their settlement
humans in the belief you've come down
adorn you with flowers with their hands
and with those same hands **** own blood
rob own kin debauch mothers and sisters
crowd your place of worship with no piety
but for selfies with your image on the background
for Devi unbeknownst to even you
you're no more the Shakti
the prowess against the Evil
but a commerce, a commodity
in the hands of men of 21st century
who know to worship only money.

Oct 2018 John Stevens

Remember Me

Oct 2018 John Stevens

Words of a withering soul

Remember Me

Remember me when you feel all alone,
I'm always here for you, I'll never leave you on your own.
Remember me when your heart is broke in two,
I'll always be here to pick up the pieces and heal your heart for you.
Remember me when you feel depressed, stressed or angry,
I'm always going to be by your side through it all, please believe in me. Remember me when you're confused or lost,
Because I'm always here for you no matter what the cost.
Remember me when you're feeling ill in any way,
I'll always be here to nurse you back to health any day.
Remember me after I am gone,
And just for you, I'll be sure to ask God to leave Heaven's light on.
Remember me please, don't forget,
I'll always remember you, our friendship I'll never regret.
Remember me if you're in Heaven before me,
Maybe you can guide the light for me to see.
Remember me when you don't think you can ever love again,
Because I am here waiting to love you, but I can wait 'til then.
Remember me when you feel like nobody loves you,
Just so you know that I'll always be here, forever too.

©Words of a withering soul

Remember that u are not lonely... And I'll always be there for you

#love #broken #remember #friend #lonely #forget

Oct 2018 John Stevens

Your Word Strings

Oct 2018 John Stevens

Neva Flores Varga Smith

Your Word Strings

Show me home in your eyes of fire
while still setting me free
to cross those bridges
I may burn.
Allow what we have to rest
in quiet happiness
of all the unknown ways
we can learn.

Exhale above me with lips
with no selfishness
and an intimacy I can see
without searching.
Exhaust my inner urges
with your ink and paper
while I soar within
my yearning.

Pen me poetry that cries out
to be the lyrics,
all the pieces of my heart
learn how to sing.
Turn the key to the lock
of beautiful phrases,
draw me a fine portrait with
your word strings.

Copyright Neva Varga @ 10/15/18 - Changefulstorm Poetry

#writing #love #freedomwords #heart #paper #pen #bridges

Oct 2018 John Stevens

Time Spent

Oct 2018 John Stevens

Barker

Time Spent

There you are. Name engraved on a headstone. Dates marked out. Dead roses sit at the bottom. I sit to the side so I don't sit on your casket. I open two beers, one for you and one for me. I talk about what's going on; how ****** New York Rangers is going to be this year. I just sit there and talk to you for hours; Way past the hour I said I would. When it's time to leave I get up, fold my chair and say "I love you." Before turning around and leaving.

(c)ibarker