Nocturnal Snowing
«Let this fluffy snow fall upon our
Dreams and make them shine! »
Set free,
Your breath smoothens unshaken skies;
Your perception scratches unopened realities.
Is it a diversion -maybe- for lost thoughts,
For lost faces and sins?
Life Has A Meaning
We think forever for salvation,
We cannot live in separation.
Father is great solves situation,
Continuous is human migration.
While we come we see garden,
Man becomes here its warden.
We cannot escape from work,
We have to walk in row of murk.
The Great Valuable Gift On Christmas Day
“Wow! It’s Christmas, happiness coming
Now for the gift welcoming loving
Then to the church to bow before God
And to the market to buy me a gift
I have the fifty cents all for myself”
Fanny jumped happily, she ran out to shop.
Dancing and skipping she went on her way
Across holy Churches,
Across lit up houses
Admonitions To A Special Person
Watch out for power,
for its avalanche can bury you,
snow, snow, snow, smothering your mountain.
Watch out for hate,
it can open its mouth and you'll fling yourself out
to eat off your leg, an instant leper.
Watch out for friends,
because when you betray them,
A Celebration
A middle-northern March, now as always--
gusts from the South broken against cold winds--
but from under, as if a slow hand lifted a tide,
it moves--not into April--into a second March,
the old skin of wind-clear scales dropping
upon the mold: this is the shadow projects the tree
upward causing the sun to shine in his sphere.
So we will put on our pink felt hat--new last year!
Young In New Orleans
starving there, sitting around the bars,
and at night walking the streets for
hours,
the moonlight always seemed fake
to me, maybe it was,
and in the French Quarter I watched
the horses and buggies going by,
everybody sitting high in the open
carriages, the black driver, and in
back the man and the woman,
A Little Bird
In alien lands I keep the body
Of ancient native rites and things:
I gladly free a little birdie
At celebration of the spring.
I'm now free for consolation,
And thankful to almighty Lord:
At least, to one of his creations
I've given freedom in this world!
Celebration
Brilliant, this day – a young virtuoso of a day.
Morning shadow cut by sharpest scissors,
deft hands. And every prodigy of green –
whether it's ferns or lichens or needles
or impatient points of buds on spindly bushes –
greener than ever before. And the way the conifers
hold new cones to the light for the blessing,
a festive right, and sing the oceanic chant the wind
transcribes for them!
A day that shines in the cold
Love And Divine (My Stella 32)
Love and Divine
The more thou love -to anybody,
the more thou dive deep in thy self
-the cave of heart,
the container.
It is a journey to inner self,
love is a journey.
The love tryst is not the central-
but focus to let thou go
The Wedding
i wake up early dawn
to witness the changes in sky
from darkness to morn
for a new bride tonight..
the pain is still here
with sadness and anger
today may be the end
tomorrow is never a fine..
Breath Of Spring Air
Melting snow,
Cool breeze,
Crows diving in a row,
Return of the unfriendly bees,
Rainbow in the sky,
And the songs of the talkative parrot;
These are signs that Spring is around the corner.
Again, she has defeated Queen Winter,
With that incredible show in the parking lot.
She is now wearing the crown and three ostentatious rubies;
Natural Celebration
The flowers bloom all days and nights long
Spread sense enchanting sweet perfumes,
The butterflies fly on their colorful wings
And sit on the petals to suck secretions;
The birds chirp, jump, dance, sing sweet songs
And fly for fruits, insects and some worms
To eat and to feed their cute youngs
Which wait making big gap opening in mouths;
"I Love You Sweatheart"
A man risked his life to write the words.
A man hung upside down (an idiot friend
holding his legs?) with spray paint
to write the words on a girder fifty feet above
a highway. And his beloved,
the next morning driving to work...?
His words are not (meant to be) so unique.
Does she recognize his handwriting?
Did he hint to her at her doorstep the night before
of "something special, darling, tomorrow"?
Atish Dipankar Srigyan
Atish Dipankar Srigya
Attained in Himalayas,
And out of deep concern,
Like a floating cloud He moved,
To pour His heart; compassion,
Reached Tibet to flood people,
Waiting with deep overflowing,
Magnetic resonance of Being.
A Conversation With An Enemy
Death you are going to die
You have ravished our hearts and compelled us to cry
Death you are going to die
You have strangled our loved ones and made us ask why
Death you are going to die
Evil enemy of existence-it's no lie
Death you are going to die
Slimy servant of sin-your doom is very nigh
' A Poem For All Men And Women! '
Woman,
Demean not your body
Given to you
For a divine purpose!
Woman,
You're not mere body, though!
A soul's passage
To an earthly sojourn
Peter Quince At The Clavier
I
Just as my fingers on these keys
Make music, so the self-same sounds
On my spirit make a music, too.
Music is feeling, then, not sound;
And thus it is that what I feel,
Here in this room, desiring you,
Thinking of your blue-shadowed silk,
Sunbeam
I pray to the sunbeam from the window -
It is pale, thin, straight.
Since morning I have been silent,
And my heart - is split.
The copper on my washstand
Has turned green,
But the sunbeam plays on it
So charmingly.
How innocent it is, and simple,
In the evening calm,
Consolation
Darwin.
They say he read novels to relax,
But only certain kinds:
nothing that ended unhappily.
If anything like that turned up,
enraged, he flung the book into the fire.
True or not,
I’m ready to believe it.
Harlem: A Poem
They took the road in Waycross, Georgia
Skipped over the tracks in East St. Louis
Took the bus from Holly Springs
Hitched a ride from Gee's Bend
Took the long way through Memphis
The third deck down from Trinidad
A wrench of heart from Goree Island
A wrench of heart from Goree Island
To a place called
Harlem