The lesson in a book
I have read,
the journey
across the four corners
to refresh
the saddened soul
that always
stayed hollow
a big gap
to fill....

for the time unknown
this gap widened
as I tried narrowing
with my futile efforts
I learned
from all the books.

then, I read
a book
that
the nature publishes
on each branch of a tree,
in the soul of a worm
hiding under a pebble,
and a sparrows' search
for such worms
for stomachful meals
for the day
before joining a flock
to present a scenic beauty
on sky's canvas.

And in its each word
decoded
a feeling of lightness
enlighted
the sad soul
giving a feeling of ecstasy
and I sang a song
of  the fullest enjoyment
playing a flute
of my imagination
disconnected...
from earthly matters
..........................
yet connected
to away and away
beyond
where
beauty reighns
both in thoughts and actions
when cosmic energy,
in its glitz, is
unparalleled, unrivaled

Narinder Bhangu

you, my love
taught me how to cut my hair
and shed my clothes

you, my love
asked me to go for a swim
and left me drowning because
i didn't know friends could take your breath away too

somehow, you’d drawn pretty lines
between every good thing in my life
and your pretty hands
all you are is a pretty girl
but your skin was so different from mine
i couldn’t help but try and mimic you
become you

i was never as good as you were
at batting my eyelashes at the right guy
i always chose the ones who broke hearts for sport
i never quite got the hang of the distant act
that even i would fall for
and i would never be good at mind-numbing small talk
that we seemed to beg for, just to fill the empty space between our hearts

your life was never real
because pretty girls like you
aren’t just pretty
but mean
and hurtful
and they will leave you
broken and bleeding on the side of the road
because you were a failed experiment

i don’t want to be mesmerised by your eyes anymore
because when i walk past you,
all i see is the despair under your eyes
you can’t fool me
like you did every other pretty girl
you’re just as broken as i am
but i swear to you,
i sleep much easier
knowing i don’t always have to be pretty.

“Moby ****,”  Herman Melville

<•>

~for the lost at sea~

after a year of saltwater absence and abstinence,
return to the island caught between two land forks
surrounded by river-heading flows
bound for the ocean great joining

the Atlantic welcomes the fresh water fools,
bringing with them hopefully, but hopeless gifts of obeisances,
peace-offerings endeavoring to keep their infinite souls

sea accepts them then drowns the
warm newcomers in the unaccustomed
deep cold salinity, which
sometimes erodes
sometimes preserving
their former freshwater cold originality

I’m called to depart my beach shoreline  unarmed,
no kayak, sunfish or glass bottomed boat needed,
walk on water and my toes, ten eyes to see the bottom,
no depth perception limitation,
reading the floor’s topography,
millions of minion’s stories infinite,
many Munch screaming

god’s foot, heavy upon my shoulders,
a daytime travel guide, hired for me,
not a friendly travel companion,  nope,
God a pusher showing off a drug called deep water salvation,
designated for the masses, can handle large parties

my in-camera brain  eyes,
record everything for playback -
the lost and unburied, bone crossword puzzles

walk shore to ship, on soles to souls,
is this my new-summer nature welcome back greeting?

puzzled at the awesomeness of vastness,
conclude this clarification for me of the occluded-deep,
is a stern reminder of my insignificant existence,
my requirement to walk humbly, spare my sin of vanity, and
forgive my trespasses upon the lives of others

perhaps then the infinite of my soul perchance restored,
older visions clarified and future poems
will write themselves
and sea to it my predecessors
be better remembered

Memorial Day 2018

I went through the snow and ice,
with sleatting rain,
to become the class of 96.
Without a woman in sight
we were rats in a sinking ship,
made worse by our task master
taking 50% value.

I've given up being a martyr
I did it tomorrow or maybe yesterday
I finally found the door
Spending less time outside
More time inside
Figuring out what's next.

The chapters in our lives end
The end of that story
Or
What then?
Athletes never beat time
Hang on in forever?

The day turns into the night
You're waking up again.

The answers come and go

There is identity in being a martyr
Knowing/not knowing
What to do
Who to be
What to give
Giving it all away
Perpetual obligation
Perpetual melancholy
A purpose, a project
Completed?

What then?

We all have empty nests
Broken hearts

Projects inevitably end

Standing, looking into the distance,  hand blocking the sun
Lingering
Wondering
Is there one more thing

Yes there is

Moving on
Saying bye bye
it's time.

Alone again.