Red-Writing-Hood Oct 2012

Blue eyes, bald head, haggard skin...dead...
It was like a race
with a bet for her life if she lost
Her delicate figure encased by a
tortoises shell
but no match for the hare that
infects her blood
speeding through the race
...speeding through her life

But wait...
the hare slowed down,
taking a rest
letting her, the slow tortoise
gradually start to win this race
this fight

Steps from the finish line
steps from overcoming this battle

She lost
Cancer won the race...and her life

Dedicated to Carol MacPherson

Karunakar Saroj Aug 2014

I bow to Lotus Feet, which gives me eternal peace
I am incomplete without your compassion
you healed my heart when it was thrown and shattered
you picked me up when I struggled to get through
you gave me hope when it seemed so out of reach
I am nothing without you

Where ever I go, found not alone
your glorious touch was always with me
Nectar drop of Gita, feels presents of yours
O! my Lord Krishna show me the light on my path

your Flute stirs the Universal Consciousness
And Gita enchants the Transcendental Consciousness
O! Lord of the whole Universe, Omnipotent Master of all
Grant me a glimpse of Thyself,Be pleased to come and live inside me                                            

-----------------------------------: :---------------------------------

By : Karunakar Saroj

(In the love of Lord Krishna)

“hare krishna hare krishna krishna krishna hare hare hare rama hare rama rama rama hare hare”

A L Davies Jun 2011

leaving the parking lot
i see a little hare
making his misty-eyed way into
the undergrowth framing the concrete,
where near the highway, morning greenery is exhaling.
it is small,
--intoxicating to see such
wild innocence
in the midst of
home depots, city buses, roughriders fans.
--makes my [aniruddha] heart soar.

"aniruddha"; n, sanskrit for wild, ungovernable
Jhan Dolo Sep 2014

Lose yaself I lost myself
Passin' notes but class I failed
That's a kno yu ask yaself
Fast or slow a Rabbit-Snail

Shayla Jade Oct 2014

My words have just been ramblin',
I left the rhyming state of mind.
The ace of spades is gamblin',
but the rabbit's now on time.

Elevator going down,
catching buses to the sound.
How do I know that I am late?
Time exists in spite of fate.

We're racing, now, against the clock
in circles, 'round the spokes.
I've forgotten how the ticking tocks,
for the gears have been long broke.

Darlin', won't you take my hand?
They're try'na pull you under and
together we can leave this land,
but you must know just where you stand.


This shortcut leads to trouble,
but you'll get there on the double.
Bad ideas, I've had a couple;
my shattered thoughts within the rubble.

Broken fragments of my mind,
my fate's aligning just in time.
To the past, I'm disinclined;
looking down an uphill climb.


You're sending me a message
about the faithfulness of love;
the white rabbit left me breathless,
I still don't know what you speak of.

"I chose you, please choose me, too?"
I'm running, but I don't know what to.
I've fallen down the rabbit's hole,
into a world without console.

Grace Jul 2015

Here we are now, you there,

Me here and between us the hare,

Mowed down, hit and run,

And it reminded me gently

Of all those things that we've done.

The air breezed past, clouds puffed,

The night sky a murky breath of smoke -

The knife in your hand or was it in mine?

Details fuzz, that unheard soliloquy

And the vengeful sea that she cried.

We buried the hare where we buried them,

And we did so with care as you should,

And it confused them more than we ever did hope,

When they uncovered body after body and the hare.

Blood, the crimson magma of life,

It stains innocence with harsh reality.

Shuffling, handcuffed, we smiled.

Appalling, the judge brought down his hammer.

Jailed for life. I laughed. We took more than one.

But hide it away now, what we did.

Burglary figures are down,

Drug dealing's being dealt with,

And the hares spring through the fields

Eternally and inevitably towards the roads

An old poem, reworked
Harold r Hunt Sr Jul 2014

The Hare and The Turtle
The hare and the turtle were in a race.
No one was there to set the pace,
The hare took the lead we did see.
With the turtle far behind.
We we all know the story
But what you don't know is how the hare won the race.
He won by a hare when driving a Ford.

jeremy wyatt Jan 2011

Saw a hare today so close I heard it breathe
ran straight by me then looked back
showing me how fast it can run
faster than anyone
follow me if you dare it's eyes shone
orange ringed bright speed and light
she won't hide and she won't fight
she'll just run
fastest thing in her fields
spring comes soon
dogs and guns
she'll keep running

Once upon a very old time,
In a perfectly ordinary forest,
Created solely for my words in rhyme,
There lived a very smart tortoise, modest and earnest.

In this same forest of the mind,
There lived a vivacious hare,
She was so stunning, all animals she could spellbind,
And wherever she went, she spread love in the air.

It so happened that the tortoise, our protagonist,
Found himself having an intimate crush
On the hare and if you get my drift,
He wanted to live a life with her, lavish and lush.

So he decided that to her he would propose,
And try to woo her with his intelligence and brains,
To marry her was his ultimate purpose,
He would surely convince her of his pros and gains.

But to his utmost horror, she rejected him downright,
And looked at him in pure disgust,
“no”, she said, “ you can’t win my love’s right,
because it is not for you that I lust.”

But persistent, and smart, he threw a challenge of love,
To her straight to the face,
“will you agree to marry me, my pure white dove,
if ever I beat you in a race?”

The hare agreed readily to the proposition,
Amused to think she could win without a care,
Alas, she didn’t know what the tortoise knew about the situation,
For he had read the story of the tortoise and the hare.

As soon as the race started, away she zipped,
While the tortoise slowly followed behind,
“He’s lost!”, she thought, “ his cream has been whipped!!...”
but the tortoise had something else in mind…

Half way through the race the hare began to tire,
“Oh!” she thought, “for the tortoise I’m still way far ahead…”
so into the hollow of a tree she did retire,
to have a nap in nature’s comfortable bed.

She was still sleeping blissfully when the tortoise reached her,
And saw her asleep in the hollow,
He could have won the race and won his love so dear,
But though he had knowledge, his mind was narrow.

“She’s the girl I love”, he thought,
we should be on equal terms, I shouldn’t get an unfair chance,
and without any fortitude and forethought,
he took a rash decision without a second glance.

“hey! Wake up! The race is still on! Don’t stop!”
his bellowing voice awoke the hare,
she nimbly bounded away, refreshed from the pitstop,
leaving the tortoise to stand and stare.

Obviously, the tortoise lost and well,
What happened after, I know not,
I hear he spent the rest of his life brooding in his shell,
But all this teaches an important lesson about love, does it not???

LDuler Jan 2013

Death is the sturdy turtle
Slow, relentless

Life is the flighty hare
Quick, lazy

Here lies, whom hound did ne'er pursue,
Nor swiftewd greyhound follow,
Whose foot ne'er tainted morning dew,
Nor ear heard huntsman's hallo',

Old Tiney, surliest of his kind,
Who, nurs'd with tender care,
And to domestic bounds confin'd,
Was still a wild Jack-hare.

Though duly from my hand he took
His pittance ev'ry night,
He did it with a jealous look,
And, when he could, would bite.

His diet was of wheaten bread,
And milk, and oats, and straw,
Thistles, or lettuces instead,
With sand to scour his maw.

On twigs of hawthorn he regal'd,
On pippins' russet peel;
And, when his juicy salads fail'd,
Slic'd carrot pleas'd him well.

A Turkey carpet was his lawn,
Whereon he lov'd to bound,
To skip and gambol like a fawn,
And swing his rump around.

His frisking wa at evening hours,
For then he lost his fear;
But most before approaching show'rs,
Or when a storm drew near.

Eight years and five round rolling moons
He thus saw steal away,
Dozing out all his idle noons,
And ev'ry night at play.

I kept him for his humour's sake,
For he would oft beguile
My heart of thoughts that made it ache,
And force me to a smile.

But now, beneath this walnut-shade
He finds his long, last home,
And waits inn snug concealment laid,
'Till gentler puss shall come.

He, still more aged, feels the shocks
From which no care can save,
And, partner once of Tiney's box,
Must soon partake his grave.

Time terminates all inner truths.
Years will pass, we are the hare,
And time is the tortoise.
We will wake, from this delightful dream, and find ourselves
Excluded from the final prize.
Down your pens now, poets, live, live, live!
Take risks, love freely, be daring, try sharing,
Be the hare, but be aware,
You’ll look around one day and there’ll be nothing there;
Up in front, a smiling beast in a shell
Will watch you crumple, overtaken,
Speed is futile,
It’s the journey that counts.

Evan G Sep 2012

She waited on the lingering cliff

Shimmering on the edge

Arching over the air

Wind whipping and winding through

The cliché clutter of despair.

Mane giving into external woe

She was dumb enough to give in to weakness

To give up in want of an ephemeral solution

That was all but that.

Ego rippling down the rabbit hole

Forcing my adaptation

Adrenaline seconds lengthen in perception

As calm wings sprout and hearts pound

I’ll release you to the nether

When madness is an understanding

But for now aloft into reality

It is not yet time for wonderland.

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