Mediterranean Girl's War Phobia

Indoors by technology, outdoors by speedy transport
I travel the world
Today in Japan, tomorrow in Rome,
Next day by an ancient civilization or in Hawaii or Coast Ivory,
I see, I observe human, nature, society, civilization, earth's form
Develop feelings with the people from country to country
Know their features, culture
I am not self; they, you and me together; friend and brother
I have nothing alone
We share what we have and to what we belong;

Cultural Exchange

In the Quarter of the Negroes
Where the doors are doors of paper
Dust of dingy atoms
Blows a scratchy sound.
Amorphous jack-o'-Lanterns caper
And the wind won't wait for midnight
For fun to blow doors down.
By the river and the railroad
With fluid far-off goind
Boundaries bind unbinding

Because I Cannot Sleep

Because I cannot sleep
I make music at night.
I am troubled by the one
whose face has the color of spring flowers.
I have neither sleep nor patience,
neither a good reputation nor disgrace.
A thousand robes of wisdom are gone.
All my good manners have moved a thousand miles away.
The heart and the mind are left angry with each other.
The stars and the moon are envious of each other.

The Reminiscence (Pastoral)

The green village, the colored city, the ever familiar locality
Each path, tree, house, turn, each native I have left behind
But creepers, hedges have entangled with my leg and hand
The green crops fields, green hills, fruit trees, call me back,

Vast playground, lake of fishes, moonlit night call me back
Those eventful, remarkable, pleasing, sensible, filling pretty
Many years of birth, childhood, youth are going to be passed
But like usual happenings those scenes are always in mind;

Childhood - The 21st Century

How advanced they are, these children of the future,
Like small adults, within their tiny frames,
They grow up in a fast 'speed driven' culture,
Where 'learning pressures' change their kind of games,
Where is their childhood, in all this hurly burly,
Where is their pure untainted view of things,
Why do they have to grow so old, so early,
And lose the joy that only childhood brings.

Our childhood was filled with thoughts of joy and gladness,

Songs Of The Singing Bird!

The unknown singing bird sang
Several songs for some years;
The songs of the singing bird
Soon created news and history!
All the life songs of the bird about
Nature and culture are literature now!

Knowledge and experience give wisdom
That gives a system of life to live;
This is called human culture.

Impossible To Tell

to Robert Hass and in memory of Elliot Gilbert


Slow dulcimer, gavotte and bow, in autumn,
Bashõ and his friends go out to view the moon;
In summer, gasoline rainbow in the gutter,

The secret courtesy that courses like ichor
Through the old form of the rude, full-scale joke,
Impossible to tell in writing. 'Bashõ'

Culture

Can rules or tutors educate
The semigod whom we await?
He must be musical,
Tremulous, impressional,
Alive to gentle influence
Of landscape and of sky,
And tender to the spirit-touch
Of man's or maiden's eye:
But, to his native centre fast,
Shall into Future fuse the Past,

A Lesson In Drawing

My son places his paint box in front of me
and asks me to draw a bird for him.
Into the color gray I dip the brush
and draw a square with locks and bars.
Astonishment fills his eyes:
'… But this is a prison, Father,
Don't you know, how to draw a bird?'
And I tell him: 'Son, forgive me.
I've forgotten the shapes of birds.'

A Grammarian's Funeral Shortly After The Revival Of Learnin

Let us begin and carry up this corpse,
Singing together.
Leave we the common crofts, the vulgar thorpes
Each in its tether
Sleeping safe on the bosom of the plain,
Cared-for till cock-crow:
Look out if yonder be not day again
Rimming the rock-row!
That's the appropriate country; there, man's thought,
Rarer, intenser,

Bagpipe Music

It's no go the merrygoround, it's no go the rickshaw,
All we want is a limousine and a ticket for the peepshow.
Their knickers are made of crepe-de-chine, their shoes are made of python,
Their halls are lined with tiger rugs and their walls with head of bison.

John MacDonald found a corpse, put it under the sofa,
Waited till it came to life and hit it with a poker,
Sold its eyes for souvenirs, sold its blood for whiskey,
Kept its bones for dumbbells to use when he was fifty.

~ Cell ~ Soul ~ Culture ~ [1+26 Words Poetry]

~ Cell ~ Soul ~ Culture ~ [1+26 words poetry]
Ms. Nivedita
UK.
21 November 2012

Cell ~ Culture
Is mundane splendor.

Soul ~ Culture
Is self unfolder.

As Life Was Five

Portate bien,
behave yourself you always said to me.
I behaved myself
when others were warm in winter
and I stood out in the cold.
I behaved myself when others had full plates
and I stared at them hungrily,
never speaking out of turn,
existing in a shell of good white behavior
with my heart a wet-feathered

My Mom

I was a part of your body for two hundred and eighty days
A full time parasite sucking away all your blood.
Causing numerous ailments, tension, stress and strain
Despite all these you didn't feel a bit of hatred for me mom?


The day you heard my first cry was festive for you
You kissed me a kiss the most perfect and purest of all;
A kiss with the fragrance of a mother's love
A kiss with the assurance of a mother's care

Honor To Woman

Honor to woman! To her it is given
To garden the earth with the roses of heaven!
All blessed, she linketh the loves in their choir
In the veil of the graces her beauty concealing,
She tends on each altar that's hallowed to feeling,
And keeps ever-living the fire!

From the bounds of truth careering,
Man's strong spirit wildly sweeps,
With each hasty impulse veering

Poem Hunter Pretty Queen

Poem Hunter you are really a pretty queen,
You are ruler we are people we are tween.

Gene of poetry you inherit for generation,
Every poet here writes poem with innovation.

Nation of poetry you are station of thought,
You are flying from Paris France you ought.

Taught many people are, far across the globe,

The Georgics


GEORGIC I

What makes the cornfield smile; beneath what star
Maecenas, it is meet to turn the sod
Or marry elm with vine; how tend the steer;
What pains for cattle-keeping, or what proof
Of patient trial serves for thrifty bees;-
Such are my themes.
O universal lights

Variations At Home And Abroad

It takes a lot of a person's life
To be French, or English, or American
Or Italian. And to be at any age. To live at any certain time.
The Polish-born resident of Manhattan is not merely a representative of
general humanity
And neither is this Sicilian fisherman stringing his bait
Or to be any gender, born where or when
Betty holding a big plate
Karen crossing her post-World War Two legs
And smiling across the table

Thin Is In

Thin is in, thin is in
Bodies like paper, thin as fin
Thin as pencil, anemic skin
Portfolio of ribs, crying within

Thin is sin, Lady in size zero
Extra extra small, she is our hero
Skinny, emaciated, walks in a bolero
Anorexic fingers, she counts her dinero

The Great Poet (Anaphora)

The great poets are who spontaneously write their time
Their nature, environs, climate they live in;
Their lifestyles, feelings, manners, behaviors
To themselves, to servants and to all others;

Their ill-well, devil-angelic, human powers
Their superstitions, renovations, reformations
Their responsibilities, demands and sacrifice
Achievements, contributions, cooperations, failures;