Four Decades And A Poem
Page 12
Denying the sound of a single drop.
The sound of the splashes,
Like voices ranting,
Deafening the sound of my soul.
And I learn to restore my peace,
my calm, the silence within me.
I learn from resentment,
I learn
I learn from tasteless food
the zest of mother’s cooking
for I have tasted something insipid
as life without any joy,
more than once in my life
I learn from aversion,
from things that pass through my life
and I am grateful,
for every bad experience being the teacher,
One day at a time.
~*~
trees, the robins sing
must shed leaves to welcome spring
begin life anew
~*~
Open Wounds
Healing never needs human eyes
like those who saw my misery
and pitied me,
sympathized while my heart
beat like bare feet pounding the earthen floor.
More than anyone’s actions,
I have felt imprisoned
by my very own,
with noise of hundred children
yelling by my ears,
Contemplation – breathless breathing…
In such time,
I heard trees creaking without
getting closer to them,
seen blood without any injury or fight,
sensed the song spin to silence,
my eyes hidden inside the caves
on my face,
and cheekbones rose like mountains
out of the desert sand,
In such time
I kept thinking what you would think of me,
burrowing my fingernails through
my palms feeling I would lose you forever…
But your voice always felt the same
like an orchestra to my soul,
like a hug in a trembling moment
like air in a stuffy room
putting off the fire inside me like dawn’s dew,
For your soul touched mine
and soothed my every anguish,
Just as the eyes would see and know
what and how to heal open wounds.
Unknown
the |t|i|c|k|i|n|g| of the clock
in the gradual song of dawn
lulling me to sleep…
Birds chirping a m o u r n f u l song
yet happy in their world
to have survived the cruel calamity,
lives falling, like particles of dust
in a mudslide,
souls, sailing like paper boats in a storm,
leaving wounds
as
d
e
e
p
as
the graves dug for them.
Like us, they struggled for “life”
and God knows how hard they tried to survive,
those, not destined for the graves
and buried deep beneath the foot of mountains,
breathed their last
with a hope that someday,
someone would find them…
It seems the dawn was singing a requiem
to these…
unknown.
Unseen, Uninterrupted
If my life should end
and I should be created again,
I wish for nothing more
than to be by your side
or be a part of you,
Invisible and silent.
Silent, like we’ve always been
feeling the love in all its fullness.
I wouldn’t want to be anything
like an angel or a spirit
that can be seen through your mind,
But rather be mingled
with the air you breathe,
the water you drink,
(whisper)
even a cell in your blood,
Or anything that you wouldn’t be able
to do without,
I would want to be unseen,
and love you like I always do,
and leave your earthly love uninterrupted.
Forgotten Endings
Again
the morning seems fresh
and new
as a new feat of a baby
hopeful and enchanting.
What happened to our yesterday
is a story of yore
almost forgotten
without any beginning
or an ending,
with a sort of gist
hanging like a flicker,
to disappear like a shooting star.
All we retain is what we are
~ you and me
right now, right here
as we always are,
in our never-ending world.
Stillborn Joy
nine nervous months
doubled with bliss
tripled with confusion
and troubled with betrayal,
shame, deceit and gossip.
dreams, dampened like a ceiling
covered in moss
strength screaming
like dynamite,
proud not to sell her soul to the devil
a second time
even though it came to this:
labouring single-handedly, six to six
to nurture the fruit of their love.
she didn’t pray for luck
or for endurance
as her little angel would obliterate all pain…
but his eternal silence
only made her darkness continue
despite her inconceivable soreness
and sacrifice.
Silent Auction
Dreams washed,
furniture taken
jewels pawned
antiques auctioned,
all left, is myself…
Car stops
“500 Rupiah” beckons a man,
then a Mercedes rolls down the screen,
a man shows his index finger
v
e
r
t
i
c
a
l
l
y
“5000 Rupiah, okay?”
I knew a virgin’s worth
Bare necks cry for gold
Bare necks cry to dazzle in gold
focused on prices as tall as The Burj.
Anxious, this doom will end as told,
chances taken by the worrying bold,
Bare necks cry for gold.
Bare hands cry to jingle in gold
fingers pointed t’wards ad boards,
waiting for rings to slide upon and hold
watching prices rise higher twofold,
Bare hands cry for gold.
Bare ears cry to dangle in gold
listening to rumors of prices fall
rushing hysterically and uncontrolled
returning sad, empty handed, cold,
Bare ears cry for gold, cry for gold…
as London plays its music!
Breaking News
We are a sonic world
, we make sound travel faster than light
and lives of significant others,
a smirky headline: wearing similar shoes.
We prefer, choose, rather,
to dwell in this asylum and feed on regress and downfall
of even best friends, or so what we term them,
busy like a Monday,
catching up on what we could’ve missed over the weekend.
We are a sonic world, we love noise rather than a sweet song,
a break up, rather than make-up
knowing better of others than ourselves,
pressed for time, always out of time
and plenty of it for rattle and needless rhyme,
drooling for first hand information
thrilled to share secrets without comprehension,
for we are the privileged ones, confidants.
We are a sonic world and we are quicker than light.
Our Freedom
21st century slavery: captivity of the soul and mind,
like grain trapped in a winnowing basket
the body longing to be alone, naked,
from the hustle of crowding acquaintances, favours and ravers
and a day without question,
longing to be untied of gossip, curiosity and whining.
Freedom is the brain before the sun is born,
before the day paralyzes and turns it into a whore to all it’s chores,
Captivity is being tied with envy and jealousy,
being bound with petty things than larger.
Today, freedom is about equality,
~ being slaves to those who’re our equals, or less than,
and not descending independence.
Denunciation ~ Lento
Despise me; I am your wretched slave,
Revise not your ways how you treat me.
Chastise me with your insensate words,
Disguise the goodness, so none can see.
Inflict accusations, for I may give in,
Predict deadly disaster, my fortune-teller,
Verdict of your frustration I await to hear,
Evict me from your fruitless life forever.
THE POEM
God, if I could breathe ‘til eighty, I’ve crossed half the time
But I wish not to live by years if there’s no rhythm or rhyme
If this life has no purpose and I’m empty of love and care
How good would I be with wasteful eyes that’d simply stare?
I wish not to live by years, but the measure of love I can give
Saving our planet with those who are busy yet so very passive
giving back to the earth twice of what I am receiving,
going green, sparing species that run in the wild from hunting.
I need no wealth, but wisdom to tackle pain of the suffering
give food for all, water for soil and shelter for the wandering
I beg for peace that has been hiding for a very long time
I pray for tolerance that cleans the grime of war and crime.
If thou kept me even for a day and filled this heart of mine,
empowering me with grace to affect change, it’d be fine,
For all what we need is a change in each and every land
A change of heart, a change of mind and a freely giving hand.
Today, I look into myself, still very young with much to give
give to the dying world and complete your motive,
I know not if I would live this day to love someone next year
and so, I pray that my prayer becomes every human prayer.
Glossary of terms
Abra – (Arabic) a traditional wooden boat carrying approximately 20 passengers across the Dubai Creek in the United Arab Emirates
Ahlan – (Arabic) meaning “hello” here refers to an Arabic newspaper.
Baga – Beach located in central coastline of Goa, India.
Bom Jesus Basilica - located in Goa, India and houses the body of Saint Francis Xavier.
Café con Miel – (Spanish) coffee with Honey
Casbah – (Arabic) Citadel, a fictional Arabic nightclub in the poem
Cosmos – herbaceous plants with slender stems, growing between 0.4 to 1.5 m tall. Flower colors are variable with eight petals or more.
Goan – term used to describe the people from the Indian State of Goa
Gulmohar – Flame Tree
Hadeharia – the habit or the constant use of the word “hell”
Hatta – a small town in Dubai, United Arab Emirates, famous for its heritage village, mountains, springs and desert safari and is a popular location for residents of Dubai and nearing Emirates.
Kannel – a local lake where the book’s author often frequented.
Lucknow – capital city of Uttar Pradesh in India.
Mussaenda – a small, tropical tree with pink, red or white flowers growing in bunches.
Maghrib – the fourth prayer of the practicing Muslims prayed just after sunset.
Mapusa – one of the main towns in Goa in India, famous for the Friday market.
Souq – (Arabic) or souk is a market in any Arabic city or town.
Suleimani – referred here to black lemon tea with sugar, consumed popularly by Arabs.
Peepal – sacred fig tree with heart shaped leaves. The skeleton of which is often used for painting beautiful designs.
Pooja – a religious ritual performed by Hindus as an offering to various Gods and goddesses or distinguished persons.
Rajasthani – people of the State of Rajasthan in India, known for their hand crafted jewelry and embroidered clothing.
Rupiah – Rupees, unit of currency of India, Pakistan, Sri Lanka and Nepal.
Sadako Sasaki – the two-year old Japanese girl who was about one mile from Ground Zero when the atom bomb was dropped in Hiroshima on August 6, 1945.
Sangolda – a village in the central part of Goa in India.
Shawarma – Arabic sandwich stuffed with grilled meat or chicken and vegetables, served with pickled vegetable.
Urak (also Arrack) – a distilled alcoholic drink made from either fermented sap of coconut flowers or cashew fruit produced in Goa in India.
HOW TO WRITE A LENTO
A poetic form created by Lencio Dominic Rodrigues, the Lento is named after its creator, taken from his first name Lencio.
A Lento consists of two quatrains with a fixed rhyme scheme of abcb, defe as the second and fourth lines of each stanza must rhyme. To take it a step further, but not required, try rhyming the first and third lines as well as the second and forth lines of each stanza in this rhyming pattern: abab, cdcd. The fun part of this form is thrown in here as all the first words of each verse should rhyme. There is no fixed syllable structure to the Lento, but keeping a good, flowing rhythm is recommended.
For an added challenge, one may write a four-verse Lento and call it a Double Lento, or a six-versed Lento to become a Triple Lento. A poem with more than seven verses is called a Lento Chain.
Below is an example of a Lento:
Composed in winter of Two Thousand Five, (a)
Proposed by my dreams, this entire theme, (b)
Exposed now for the world, so it can thrive, (a)
Supposed to be easy though it may not seem. (b)
Two quatrains with good rhythm and flow, (c)
Do rhyme the beginning word in every line, (d)
Pursue to keep last rhymes in line 2 and 4, (c)
Chew your brain a little, you’ll do just fine! (d)
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