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Come in summer
Taste "Rabri"sweet n sour
Enjoy daytime sleeps for sure
Lunch with green sangri,
fofliya and rayata cups
with amazing bajra cakes
Dinner with dish of
" Moth-Bajra kheech"
with a lot of cheese
See how "Rohida" flowers rocks
amidst hot air strokes
Come in rain
Sketch on beautiful brown sand
by your fingers using as pen
engrave your foot prints for fun
and smell heart touching scent
of this warriors mother-land
Eat" gurrhvani churma" with
Ker-sangri, fofliya taste of
this  wonderland
And see camel ploughing fields
Walking in their full speeds
Come in shishir
Taste Matira, Kakar
And ber seasonal fruits
Chew roasted bajra grains
for checking teeth roots
Come in winter
Eat buffalo milk curd full of bowls
Taste "Kachar - Fali "veggies
Dal- Baati- Churma sweet dishes
Have  fair n festival funfares
and traditional marriages cheers
wearing colouful wears
singing folk songs
n lots of chances
of rocking in ghumar dances
Come in spring
Rock and roll in" Holi"fest airs
and visit  lovely" Gangour" fairs
Eat " kheer-dhokla "layers
Visit black buck sanctuary
to see animal cares.
Kate Sep 2017
Faces that pass along in the stuffy summer night
See right through me
Though I fight to be seen, to be noticed
Acknowledged as a living breathing entity
I walk along, waiting to be picked up for a second
Inspected for usefulness
And put down again
Expiring my helpfulness again and again

And then I see the shining ray of glory
She steps through the crowd of gray
And addresses me by name
And I lead her down winding paths of Gold and Silver
And she kisses me with her eyes
She makes love to me with her words
I feel her in every depth within me

And then she's gone
Leaving a vacancy in my soul.
Eno Sep 2018
7 lives
Intertwined
Some were breaking
Now riding the wave
Others were drowning
Now swimming up and away
There’s secrets cleaning the tables
Unanswered questions serving food
And I cannot comprehend the distance

Between me

And

You.

We began in tandem
Building this great pyramid
A myriad of hope
Block by block
Carried by our journey to discover new lands
Off the shores of collective success
Together
Some higher than others;
All in it.
With smiles
And parties
Tears and fears
Winding along and around
Working intensely
Loving concepts, people, food
It was just good business
They say...

3 years on
Time sweeps our intricate
Fast paced
Warped and winning
Bodies and brains
Under, once more,
The same old roof -
Oh my, how things have changed

Those men who were ringing the bells
Calling the shots
Trail scandals behind them
Like pieces of toilet paper
Still attached to their shiny, worn out shoes
Are we a pleasant reminder of a band of brothers in arms
A loyal family of resilient workers
Who played a note or two in your orchestrated dream?
Rather I fear
It’s much the opposite
Although we were greeted like old friends
With lopsided smiles of nostalgia
In the pit of my stomach
(The one you used to feed)
It just seemed like we were evidence of ghostly shame
An unwelcome reminder of a past which tried to swallow them up for dinner
A quiet embarrassment
That knew it did not deserve us
Like a lover who had tried to move on
When we’d decided to move in next door
Mary Gay Kearns May 2018
The bungalow in Isle of Wight brick
Surrounded by concrete flag stones
Was my perimeter playground
Lifting tanned legs under smocked dress.

Against the side walls bees suckled
On those red berries amongst leaf
I watched their pollenated wings buzz
And thought of honey yet to be made.

Round and round like a circus animal
I danced the summer sunshine out
Waiting as my shadow fell on ground
Announcing cool sea air and home time.


Love Mary **
Tammy M Darby Dec 2013
Just to see what it was like
The usual
The smell of brimstone and smoke
Torture and mayhem
Burning heads impaled upon spikes

I shook hands with the evil one
He spoke up and said
Come  friendmy home is your home
But no communing with the dead

I said I was just looking around
Put to rest any fears
With my good and pure lily white life
I shall never end up here


Staring down at my coffin
At my funeral where was shed many tears
It seemed only seconds had passed
And there I was
Back in **** again

I asked Satan fearfully
In a child's high voice
Tell me
What am I doing here
Your soul is not sinless
Your name is on my parchment
And I have waited many years


This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Tammy M. Darby Dec. 27, 2013
Sehar Dec 2018
love's a distant relative
dropping in uninvited
murmuring condolences for a girl I thought I buried away
eons ago.
love strikes when you least expect it.
sara Apr 2018
Deep down I know what I'm searching to find
I race through the trees but there's nowhere to hide
I follow the scent but it all smells like pine
I look hard for the truth, but then lock it outside.

I leave it shaking, shivering, cold
on a mountain top where the four winds blow
Until I start drinking; warm, inside, alone
then I'll unlock the door, invite truth to come over.

"You can't stay for long", but he takes a seat
and comfortably downs a large gulp of my drink.
My lips to his neck and his tongue to my mouth,
in the thick of it all, it all somehow comes out

What I want, what I need
Things that I couldn't see
Things I ran from, tripped up on so frequently
Labelled them nightmares, just too scared to dream;
I learned to stop running when truth came to me.
don't run I guess is the moral of the story
Peter Balkus Feb 6
I visit churches
to breathe the silence,
for in the silence
you can find God.
There is no silence
in this world.
Juhlhaus Jan 15
I hurried out at six fifteen to wait
For a train with a waning moon,
Bright Venus and Jupiter hovering
Above the skyline. The amber horizon
Turned to orange and pink
As scattered stars went dim.

Misread the schedule and arrived
Downtown three quarters of an hour
Before my Electric District connection.
An accidental gift to self. I ascended
And ate two breakfast sandwiches
I got for one dollar with a coupon,
Warm in my hands on a blue picnic table.

The sky grew light
Above the Lake and I wandered
Through Millennium Park. It was empty
Or nearly, which felt the same.
The sun broke the bent horizon
In chrome and ice. I took some pictures,
Then descended to find Track Five.

The day's light revealed
Hollow houses with cartoon stone applied
Like paint, unable to compete
For preeminence with two-car garages.
The newest were bigger and offered
In different colors, but all the same.
Driving conditions were excellent.

At sunset I stood on another platform
Above a busy highway. The last rays came
Through tree branches and melted
Into the pale sky as they left my face.
I had witnessed that sun's birth,
It had warmed me while I waited for my carpool,
Rested with me on a concrete planter after lunch.

I entered the city in darkness
A second time. Changed muddy boots
For clean shoes and hurried to the museum.
It was a free night, overcrowded
With families and children, so difficult
To find a quiet corner for contemplation,
Any sanctuary for my own small soul.

I descended, discovered the typewriters, then
Realized you and I were already there, just
In different colors, using different words,
Spending school vacation to view old paintings
And the Holiday Miniature Rooms.
It dawned and the future was brighter even
As I left the city in darkness.
For a wonderful fellow poet who reminds me that there is no such thing as an ordinary day.
Donna Aug 2018
We walked around the
park and came across a sweet
garden of flowers

All trimmed so lovely
not a bud out of place and the
sun shone happily

Was there we saw a
wishing pond full of silver
gold and bronze money

So we made a wish
Plonk plonk plonk is what we heard
as the coins lie still

Jennifer was near
by , watering the new buds
Butteflies fluttered

there ivory wings
whispering sweet lyrics to
birds flying in sky

We came across a
monkey , he ****** to its cage
Dean said its hungry

It was colour of
midnight , full of gentleness
Contentment for sure

Dean pulled a twig of
leaves off a tall plant for the
monkey , who I thought

had smiled in its own
animal way , but all of
a sudden two girl

monkeys colour of
a rising sun tried to rule
the roast , so dean gave

them some leaves too , but
they seemed adamant to pinch
the males food , we did

have a giggle and
told the girl monkeys to shoo
They just ignored us

We saw elephants
Skin like a hundred years old
Eyes like big diamonds

One seven foot tall
Jennifer flew by smiling
sprinkling sunlight

upon there hay , we
saw a monkey eat a fly
It picked off its wings

threw them to the ground
and ate its body ,it was
a fascinating

moment, Flight never
to be lowered only to be
born again to life

Oh I loved the big
leopard she was amazing
Her fur so unique

Her temperament so
kind so loving so happy
Man as been her friend

It was a lovely
day and Jennifer enjoyed
herself too , she sang

a song making the
sun giggle so much , its teeth
fell upon warm earth

leaving sparkles in
ponds and glistens upon cars
and smiles in clouds

We all drank ice cold
water and ate some chips and
a panini with

cheese and tomato!
We drove home feeling happy
And the sky was too
Yesterday we visited a wildlife park it was truly lovely lots of the animals are becoming extinct and this particular park as given many of the animals a really lovely kind loving enviroment to live in :)))
Scot Dec 2018
A morgue is an unhappy place regardless of time or place.
The somber few that haunt the halls often project the surroundings dreadfully.
While walking the gray tiled rooms it’s known too that we shall one day wear the toe tag.
But mortality gives way to reality and jobs are done with quiet respect for passed souls.

And then there’s the Juarez Morgue...
A hot July day and a drive through Mexican customs brought a meeting with police officials.
A body in their possession, they thought, would bring transportation home.
Calloused officials with shiny gold 45’s aglow, spoke rhythmic Spanish in their police code.

A “******,” said one and this should be fun a ride with those looking more like hit men.
A car loaded with “Madrinas,” in tow and AR 15’s laid in seats in a row.
How odd thought he in a land purportedly free and fright on passerby faces.
Cocky bravado speaking radio slang,
did drive towards the Juarez morgue.

A couple miles out a turn in and out did place them in a neighborhood quiet.
But a familiar smell in a nose did swell, and wonder of how that could be valid.
Putrefaction it was, the odor rose above as the children played gleefully nearby.
How could it be when he could not see the edifice emitting the smell?

A small octagon building, small air conditioners in four windows.
Could it be that this was the morgue?
The desert sun bright and heat overbearing.
My God this is a place of death among many living, what a fright!

The escorts did enter, the detective slowly met the front door.
He was quite pensive when sliding from light to the dark.
His eyes gone black his vision insufficient, as he started to be able to see.
A wet sounding step and a curious glance, did place his feet in crimson water.

Disbelief as the room came into focus, he saw well the visions of what belong in ****.
Bags of bones stacked they were, a femur and skull, the fully decomposed welcomed.
Four porcelain tables and bodies disabled lay upon with nary a stare.
Just shortly behind bodies piled feet high forget a tray or a gurney.

Overcome by it all he began to stall, and try to gather his thoughts.
Rank smell in his nose sent him scrambling for his cigar.
The smoke unable to cover what he did discover, his heart fell hard to his knees.

How inhuman it was to see rampant disregard for the dead.
No scalpels used to cut the Y,
a kitchen knife he could cry.
Sewed up a corpse, with rough twine of course, he regretted where he did stand.
His spine became metal his mind did reel and a new wrinkle appeared on his brow.

On some summer nights when heat fills the air, he does look up to the moon.
His mind travels back to the withering stacks, and the odor still gathers in his nose.
The years have passed by and he doesn’t know why, the memories will not fade.
Restless sleep, fallen heart, many more new wrinkles have taken there place.

A war there has broken out,
and factions viciously ****.
He can’t help but wonder what has happened in Juarez.
The tractors and the bodies they plow.
No building this time a long ditch in the ground scores of people pushed into a long trench.

He walks each day with what he has seen, which cannot be unseen.
Wrestling with himself in the bed, and covering his head.
The dead they do come to visit still.
The Morgue in Juarez left it’s print in the mind of a young fellow.

Indulge the last line if you have some spare time.  Dios bendiga los muertos de Juarez.
True occurrences.
Went to the old park
Just after a month's break,
But the park is renewed
With even the faces of visitors changed.

The complete make over it had got,
All new gym machinery in place,
It's used to be kids park but now all age group throng it plenty.

The place is busy as bee,
People waiting in que,
For the exercise is a thought
That has already made it's mark.

Now with feeling to get fit
People walk and jog
Cycle and abs crunches
abound,
Crowd is becoming young and sound.


I like to be here in morning and in evening,
I have made friends here,
I like to smile and spread joy,
With different groups that I meet here.

Mornings are of oldies and freer people,
Evening are younger more like me,
But I fit in both..
Morning I walk and listen to news,
Evening I watch my kids become smarter...

A visit to the park
rejuvenate my mood,
Just like a cup of perfectly
brewed latte coffee...!!


Sparkle In Wisdom
March 2019
A light hearted piece to just relax.
Pagan Paul May 2017
I slip the straps and release the clasp
of your over-the-shoulder boulder holder.
Gravity asserts itself, and you sigh as
I wonder if I should get even bolder

because

The jaws of love masquerade
as petals of a flower

so

Did you know
I'll get a *******
if I visit
your front garden

and

Just say if you want me to stop.
We are, after all, in the middle of a shop.
I was attracted when I saw you smile.
As we passed in the frozen food aisle.
Now people are staring though the window.
Shocked at my nonchalant innuendo.
And if your purse metaphor extends to this.
We can go to the Bank for a little kiss

though

I may not be able to afford
nine feather mattresses and a golden pea.
But if you could make do
with a lilo and a marble
then …
You've pulled Princess.

© Pagan Paul (30/05/17)
.
Prequel to Even Poets ***** Up A Date (Mar 31)
The 3rd, Even Poets ***** Up A Night Of ***, to be published at some point.
.
over the past weeks
a gentle autumn sun
has painted colored leaves
upon the ground
and thinned
the bright abundance
of the wooded ranges

most of the harvest
is securely stored by now
or sold at morning markets
by weathered men and women
in country garbs

vintners are busy with their lots
fermenting grapes
and entertaining those
who see their visit
as pleasant pastime and escape
from daily urban chores

hunters and lumbermen
are waking up
to shoot and mark

schools by this time
have settled into the new year
teachers are happy still to share
the knowledge of our world
with students still inclined
to listen

businessmen
remembering their vacations
on the Bahamas or in Saint Tropez
step sprightly into offices
womanned by secretaries dreaming secretly
of beautiful Mallorca summers
and of those never-ending nights
on the Algarve

I guess it is a human thing
to find a new beginning
and do best
when nature’s breath goes easy
to collect the strength
for yet another fruitful year

or were it better
that we also took a rest?

           * *
Zeeb Jul 2018
Tool of desperate confrontation
Object of pride for a grateful nation
In Baton Rouge on the mighty river
Kidd rests proudly
376' length overall,  Fletcher Class destroyer
Like every ship, of oil she does smell
When I boarded her, she had something to tell

I was with a scoutmaster, my son and the boys
Concerned with their fun, and the making of noise
But late in the night, as quiet set in
Kidd started whispering, to my within

She spoke of the men who gave up their lives
Their children, their girls, the tears of their wives
Thirty-eight men, in fiery fuel
****'s agony touched, a death so cruel
Fifty-five more, burned badly that day
Defending our country, our homage we pay
Visiting sailors will stand at attention
… and for a young Kamikaze, scarcely a mention

The big war was over, Kidd passed her test
Now to San Diego, for a permanent rest
But as men will prescribe, it didn’t last long
Kidd went back into action, near Korea’s Kaesong

When in Baton Rouge, you can visit the Kidd
If you’re bold, listen carefully, just as I did
You'll get half of the story, the rest we don't know
The men who have fallen, to Kidd's mighty blow

Let's set now a new tone and have us some fun
The Kidd's crew were pirates but they didn't run ***

Those flat-tops were fancy, their flyers elite
In the galley was ice-cream, their reward and their treat
When a pilot was downed, Kidd quickly steamed
Then radioed the skipper, "your man for  ice-cream"
Skye Rhiannon Nov 2012
When I run out of time,
When my heart beat ceases to exist,
When my blood in my veins run dry,
When my soul escapes from the body form i'm in,
When I can no longer see beauty in life,
When my eyes and mind become blind,
When I die,
Burn me,
Mix my ashes together with my true love,
So we shall remain forever like i promised,
Send us somewhere romantic,
Full of peace and privacy,
Not too boring,
Not too troubled,
Send us off into the perfect place,
Visit from time to time,
Only talk about us with grace,
Do not be too sad,
We will meet again some day,
Our souls will find another home,
We will be alive again,
If my love dies before me,
Then i will visit him everyday,
I will read to him,
I will talk to him,
No one deserves to be lonely,
Even if they are gone,
Oh such a sad phase,
Buried, burned, or frozen,
All alone in the darkest of times,
Do not let me take that scary journey on my own,
Let me be with him forever,
Place our remains in the most peaceful place.
Brooke White Nov 2017
When I was a child, the hallways stretched for miles
Mahogany and ceramic floors, polished bookcases
A mansion for fictional paperbacks
All neatly tucked under fluorescent lighting

The librarian would wait behind her desk
She reigned silent
besides the tapping of her fingertip to her glasses
I can’t remember her ever looking happy

Until the day I noticed the chirping
Sang somewhere between the realistic & historical fiction,
a bird cage sat next to the skeleton woman’s desk
It was an unexpected visit

I should have brought a better dressed book to check out
Mine was bound by yellowing pages
But I met the canary and heard her song
As I watched the librarian smile
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
When I was just a child I went searching for my world,
one of sunlit days, adventure and beauty left unfurled.
Though these days were made to be the a key to set me free
I couldn’t have foreseen the cost that all of this would be.

As I look back on these memories I hoped to have it all,
I believed that love would listen and come answering my call.
I was certain love would find me as I filled my life with song.
Now I’d turn in all these moments for just the promise to belong.

At Oktoberfest with beer halls and the sound of German songs.
The mix of beer and smells of nuts floating through the noisy throngs.
Climbing  on the Untersberg up on Alpines mystic peaks
and attending cocktail parties with Gemany’s elite.

Climbing falls in Ocho Rios with some old and new found friends,
drinking coffee, eating lobster, and enjoying without end.
Driving through the darkened backroads from a day at Negril’s beach,
in a cab with songs of love and Marley counting down the beat.  

In Cancun lagoons were vivid and alive with swarming life,
seas of sergeant majors, parrotfish, and barracuda thrive.
in the Caymans packs of stingrays had become our closest friends,
as we played among them in  a world where the beauty never ends.

The fireworks over Sydney lit the bicentennial sky
while I look upon that moment now with disbelieving eyes.
Waves from the Prince of England as he sat by princess Di
when I left the land down under, well I felt like I would die.

As I watched the sun go down over Uluru’s gold peak,
and the sun rise over Daintree as we picked our morning feast.
digging oysters off the rocks by Nelligan’s foreshores,
I was certain with my best friend that I couldn’t want for more.

Remembering the ocean as I snorkeled though it brief,
in Queensland off the shore on Australia’s barrier reef.
The beauty in Belize nearly took my breath away,
and it seemed to me that God had made this gorgeous land to play.

Camping in the South Pacific beneath the skies and palms.
In the hills of South Dakota we went panning in the calm.
With the Eiffel tower, Louvre and Twilleries rounding out another day
And the visit to the gardens of Monet just made me cry.

It’s surreal to think of all the things I’ve done throughout this life,
and the blessings that I’ve gotten seem enough to make things right.
But the simplest adventure and the one I longed for most
was a man that I could count on and would love and hold me close.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
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