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  Jun 2021 Valsa George
guy scutellaro
and here I stand
a stone
beside an unshaded lamp

4 walls and a door

I've tried to chase
your ghost
out that door
many times

and the unfathomable echo
of your footsteps lingers
forever fading down the hallway

the unshaded lamp
the mirror above the sink

a dangerous animal
the broken heart is
in the unforgiving light
of a windowless room.
  Jun 2021 Valsa George
Carlo C Gomez
~
this once sound vessel
succumbing to agony,
as if scuttled by
a siren at sea,

and in her heart
flutters and sunbeams,
she's not alone
in her dreams,

there's a torch light
with wings, dancing
about her wounds,

it burns of empathy,
but too numb to feel the pain
of her dying rooms,

hereabouts goodbye,
under the silk of anesthesia,
she whispers,
"blade of grass, then away we fly..."

~
Prerogative presumptive judicature, cantankerous cantilever capacity.  Paradoxical dichotomy greaves, gauntlets gamut catalyst abstracts, asymmetrical symmetry.  Objectified manifest's dimensional delineation, intrinsic endemic innate opaque opulence.  Protractive analyses accidence ambience acoustics.  Spatiotemporal telemetry tactician's trajectory extant.  
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      Astral projection's clairaudience clairvoyance.   Tenets and principles, maxims and axioms, and doctrinal mandates.  Exserted protuberance's edifice *******.   Exotically ******, ethereally sublime xylem Xanadu sails. Erotica erectile errantry.  
      Fulham nuance *****.  Formidable foundry of a foyer fracas.  Harpy harsh hast, atrium attrition seditious.  Oak tree ****** nails swarthy ******* swath swizzles and unicorn railway sails.  Anchor pin tachometer troll wood harlotry's root clod rudiments, lightning bow hat pick.  Transcendent nimbus nimiety exorcist.  Transpicuous translucence alluvium aloof impunity.
Radix repartee.
I heard it in a song
I felt it in the breeze
It held me all night long
Called to me from across the seas

The spirits be unleashed
I hear it in their moans
Will their agony be released
They can't find their way back home

Never to be body done
Barb wire and reds for breath
From beginning of the bone
to the door of death

spiritually uneasy
just looking for a way back home
Valsa George Jun 2021
It was past midnight
The moon, a sphere of luminosity!
But she saw the frozen grimace of death
And the nocturnal bats in gyrating motion
Meteors of shame and repugnance
Flashed past her darkened sky,
Cockroaches scurried in her brain,
All the nerves taut and about to break
Her heart bleeding in silence
And her body burning, burning

Agony once subsided, surged back
Stronger than ever before

Unable to bear the burden anymore
Finding no water to wash away her guilt,
With no contrition enough to ease
The twinge of her conscience,

She drew out a piece of paper
From her locked up cupboard
That she would never open again

Hastily scribbled something

Without qualms
Without frills

Never waiting for another day
Of impotent remorse,
She set out to a destination unknown
Where Past, Present and Future
Merge and coalesce
Into
The muted whispers of stillness !
This is a sad story..... ! She was beautiful and belonged to a well to do family. But her husband was a drunkard. He used to bring his friends to the house, sit very late and have their drinking spree.
She started an affair with one of them. In a drunken bout, when her husband slept away to glory, she and her friend had a physical relationship with her consent. Somehow later she felt sorry for her action. But under threat, she had to yield again.This began to tell upon her psyche and she fell into self reproach and depression.
One day she left her home and ended her life.

This happened ina place not far from my place.
  Jun 2021 Valsa George
RAJ NANDY
Friends, this is a short reflective poem which I have recently composed for you. Hope you like the same, - Raj, 27 March 2021, New Delhi.

       * REFLECTION OF ETERNITY*
The old withered man had wide big eyes,
His eyes had the color of deep blue sky.
His white long beard had few streaks of
Black.
While matted locks of snowy hair flowed
down his back.
He sat on a pavement wearing a faded
dusty cloak,
Mostly remained ignored, while some
even laughed calling him an old bloke!
Few coins were tossed inside a small
bowl lying by his side,
As he sat on the pavement with nothing
to declare or hide.

Perhaps he was caught up in Time’s wrap
woven by destiny and fate.
It was difficult to tell if he was sane or
insane,
Or how many moons had passed over
his head.
Perhaps he waited to be liberated from
this earthly cycle of life and death.
Since his wide blue eyes mirrored eternity,  
As he stared into the fathomless depth
of celestial blue space!
                                           -Raj Nandy, New Delhi.
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