How To Die
Dark clouds are smouldering into red
While down the craters morning burns.
The dying soldier shifts his head
To watch the glory that returns;
He lifts his fingers toward the skies
Where holy brightness breaks in flame;
Radiance reflected in his eyes,
And on his lips a whispered name.
You’d think, to hear some people talk,
A High-Toned Old Christian Woman
Poetry is the supreme fiction, madame.
Take the moral law and make a nave of it
And from the nave build haunted heaven. Thus,
The conscience is converted into palms,
Like windy citherns hankering for hymns.
We agree in principle. That's clear. But take
The opposing law and make a peristyle,
And from the peristyle project a masque
Beyond the planets. Thus, our bawdiness,
Unpurged by epitaph, indulged at last,
Through Agony
I
All night, through the eternity of night,
Pain was my potion though I could not feel.
Deep in my humbled heart you ground your heel,
Till I was reft of even my inner light,
Till reason from my mind had taken flight,
And all my world went whirling in a reel.
And all my swarthy strength turned cold like steel,
A passive mass beneath your puny might.
On A Vulgar Error
No. It's an impudent falsehood. Men did not
Invariably think the newer way Prosaic
mad, inelegant, or what not.
Was the first pointed arch esteemed a blot
Upon the church? Did anybody say How
modern and how ugly? They did not.
Plate-armour, or windows glazed, or verse fire-hot
With rhymes from France, or spices from Cathay,
The High-Toned Old Christian Woman
Poetry is the supreme fiction, madame.
Take the moral law and make a nave of it
And from the nave build haunted heaven.Thus,
The conscience is converted into palms,
Like windy citherns hankering for hymns.
We agree in principle.That's clear.But take
The opposing law and make a peristyle,
And from the peristyle project a masque
Beyond the planets.Thus, our bawdiness,
Unpurged by epitaph, indulged at last,
Alone
Alone, alone, alone
I was all alone
I was alone in my mother’s womb
I will be alone in my grave beneath the tomb
My life was a lone journey
There was none to accompany
She chose me as companion
I promised not to abandon
They say it was a heavenly knot,
Many battles of life together we fought
Jenny
Lazy laughing languid Jenny,
Fond of a kiss and fond of a guinea,
Whose head upon my knee to-night
Rests for a while, as if grown light
With all our dances and the sound
To which the wild tunes spun you round:
Fair Jenny mine, the thoughtless queen
Of kisses which the blush between
Could hardly make much daintier;
Whose eyes are as blue skies, whose hair
The Song Of A Rain Drop
I am a rain drop flopped down from the clouds
I could have landed in a river or the sea
Then merging with the rising and receding tides
I would have been washed down into oblivion
Or could have fallen from the heights
Into a desolate dreary desert
Amid the blistering granules of sand
To be absorbed into nothingness
Capis Windows
How do you enter that Manila
frame of mind, that woven
mat of noodle house restaurants,
that dawn of tapis tasting women,
that hankering of hourly hauntings?
Drive along Roxas Boulevard
when the moon has just clocked
out of third shift and the sea horses
Callous Harmattan Clutched
bounty body blushing
heaving hoisted hankering
under tainted touch
callous harmattan clutched
felon feelings fostering
damped desires drooling
smoggy soles scrunching
gaunt hands groaning
laced lips whitening
A Story Of The Setting Sun And The Moon
The road comes from somewhere
And goes straight somewhere else
Caring not the Chautari* that awaits him,
Goes past, leaving her
Where she is.
Nothing different happens elsewhere, too
The same it is in every single age.
Not a single road ever
Bird Parliament (Translation Of)
Once on a time from all the Circles seven
Between the steadfast Earth and rolling Heaven
The Birds, of all Note, Plumage, and Degree,
That float in Air, and roost upon the Tree;
And they that from the Waters snatch their Meat,
And they that scour the Desert with long Feet;
Birds of all Natures, known or not to Man,
Flock'd from all Quarters into full Divan,
On no less solemn business than to find
Or choose, a Sultan Khalif of their kind,
Rusty Year Retiring
weary waves whooshing
hoisted horizons hankering
dark dances drooling
felon fate fostering
airy atmosphere amputating
salient seas scrunching
mystic melody moaning
fiery figs feigning
voluptuous veils vying
Ignite To Win Darkness
Sudden cut off of power,
This has brought up darkness,
While moving ahead,
A person gets jerk in wall,
Nothing is visible at all,
Father does not able see son,
Son does not able to see father,
For a little ray of light,
All are hankering is true.
A Belated Call
Him whom I could not then love much
Why do I now remember thus at this late
hour, a Mother?
Today I remember every night he lulled
me to sleep by kissing my eves,
Kisses followed kisses breaking my
early dawn sleep under their heavy load.
I felt then much distressed
And sought an early release.
- Illusion-
Illusion
Nothing do I have to do,
No aim to fulfil,
I am simply nothing,
Any moment I die
will be a complete moment,
My death will be so complete,
Nothing is left to be done,
Aimless life is my way,
The Man & The Beast
I have never read in any news paper
I have never viewed in any TV Channel
a female beast has been raped
or the female beast is dead
due to being raped
How much conscious they are?
I have heard
a female beast is not disturbed
by any one during her pregnancy
Tribute To My Forecast Friend Prabir Gayen
C O N G R A T S U R 474 ON TOP OF 500 PH POETS
AS I SAID ONE DAY YOU WILL BE
INDIA'S TAGORE NO 2
I HAVE WASTED A LIFE TIME
THAT'S WHY I remain Anonymous
no one will appreciate
name of mine
till I live
Your Thoughtful Posture
I see your thoughtful posture
I see you disturbed a wee bit
I see words in the tip off tongue….
I see your refrain from speaking your heart……
I see your anguish
I see the turmoil within clear
I long to walk the last few steps
I long to have you speak your mind
I long to have your trust and confidence
I long to give all you wish
- -My Stella - - 48
- - My stella - - 48
Save me with thy love
Verily deep is the sorrow of life,
the moving on the floor is an uneasy faltering as ifOn the chaos.
Life of man is promiscuous and episodic for dreams inordinate and arbitrary.
Heart is shallowed for mind's bemused hankering for nonempty.
Fanatic man frenetic and lunatic,
Isolated, swooned and unwary man,
Modern men are easy prey to comity willfuland wayward.