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  Sep 2014 Siddharth Penmetcha
irinia
my town
where wild flowers grow
between tram tracks.
there was a time when
it was hardly morning,
no bridge into daylight.

walls had ears,
neighbors had eyes
whispering behind the curtains
there was an emptiness in the guts
of the city
and poetry locked in the drawers,
Borges was read under the blankets
while Dostoievski was  a comforter:
demons were embedded.

yeah, people were clapping and smiling
watching the nub of history, numb
they had a life to live,
what can you say?

one day the radio
burst on in the streets
some were shivering in the attic
"we are free", they said
"we are free",
came the echo in trance

"shhhhh"! said others,
let us wipe the blood
don't disturb the sacrificed
so we can sleep
without dreams

it's Thursday in my town
streets are weary
and our souls are
slowly expanding
Thank you, Eliot, for this choice! I am glad that this poem was chosen for the Daily Poem because for me it is a reminder that people died for freedom and struggled against oppression in times when "Cruelty knits a snare,/And spreads his baits with care", as the poet says. (William Blake, The Human Abstract)
To,
The Queen of my Heart

Though we be apart, many miles apart
the distance is moot, when the love is afoot
but a lot can be said, for a kiss on the head
a warm touch on skin, a peck on the chin
the lack of a hug, does on the heart tug
but I pretend all that is less, than what I feel, I confess
I have never shed a tear, but I was quite near

If truth be told, and it is a fact of old
Men are much more, than unfeeling bores
we love, we kiss, we hurt when you are amiss
its a facade we play, the mask we wear everyday
we try to seem strong, its been so for so long
which sometimes is viewed, as being dull, or rude
So we were taught, what a man ought to do, and what not
we don't wish to hurt, when we seem distant, or curt
the mask won't come off, its soldered on tough
but if you wont give up without a fuss, and there's no one but us
I might let it drop, and open the lock
so my heart may spring free, in tandem with thee
and joy becomes me, after an eternity
So bear with me my dear, I am but chained to my fear
though there will be such times, when I join life's rhyme
and together we shall dance, our hearts in a trance
This is something all the seemingly serious or solemn men would want to tell their lovers or wives, to not lose patience with them, and understand that they wish they weren't so too. It is just hard for them to embrace their sensitive or happy sides, after so many years of conditioning.
  Sep 2014 Siddharth Penmetcha
Tryst
~

Love!               vs              Love?

I love you!                      I love you?
It's true, I do!                 It's true, I do
Wonder why?              Wonder why;
You love me too!          You love me too?
~
First published 22nd September 2014, 10:00 AEST.
Hello my friend, my only friend
the night's said bye, and reached its end
the sun says hi! and slips over the bend
the day is nigh, its time to mend

No matter the times that life throws at us
no matter the cracks that grow within
we must wake up and not make a fuss
we must find calm in the noisy din

Away and afar do we have to go
the trail is rough, the fatigue in our toes
but stand up and shake it off, dear one
there is still so much to be done

If you feel tired, I will lend you my strength
If you have lost desire, I will find it again
If you feel mired, I will show you the way
If you wish to rest, I will hold you, and gently sway

Don't give up now, give up on the regret
Take a deep breath, and get off that bed
the bed of roses, you have made for yourself
soon they will be thorns, and you will be dead

Make use of the time, that life gives free
that slips slyly by, as you sit and dream
It's now or never, my only friend
One day at a time, and you can rest at the end
A day is nothing in the big picture, but it is everything for a fly that lives a day.
her nails are a powder blue
each finger adorned with a ring
that has a meaning and place in her life
this one she got in her hometown in the south of france
this one she found roadside leaving denver
each has a story to be told
as if her hand is a roadmap to loves secret places
her delicate hands weave her thoughts
on the air when she speaks
the brass bracelet with her moonstone
and the silver ones ****** softly accenting her lovely voice
her elegant gestures flow and ebb with the conversation
but her soft hand always finds its way back to mine
and in that warm embrace of her tender fingers
where i find such joy and love
i could spend a lifetime telling
you about all the wonderful things i love about her
so let me begin by telling you about
her nails are a powder blue....
Body clad in golden armor,
Auburn hair in tumbling waves,
Silver boots in perfect position,
Bow and arrow poised and ready.

Brave and strong,
Filled with courage,
Full determination,
Pure perseverance.

She is a warrior princess,
Filled with fire,
Blessed with beauty and
desire.
My thoughts are weary travelers
Waiting for the safe haven
Of the blank pages
Where ink rejuvenates them to life
As memoirs for other travelers
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