Kubla Khan
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree :
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round :
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Dis Poetry
Dis poetry is like a riddim dat drops
De tongue fires a riddim dat shoots like shots
Dis poetry is designed fe rantin
Dance hall style, big mouth chanting,
Dis poetry nar put yu to sleep
Preaching follow me
Like yu is blind sheep,
Dis poetry is not Party Political
Not designed fe dose who are critical.
Dis poetry is wid me when I gu to me bed
Death & Fame
When I die
I don't care what happens to my body
throw ashes in the air, scatter 'em in East River
bury an urn in Elizabeth New Jersey, B'nai Israel Cemetery
But l want a big funeral
St. Patrick's Cathedral, St. Mark's Church, the largest synagogue in
Manhattan
First, there's family, brother, nephews, spry aged Edith stepmother
96, Aunt Honey from old Newark,
Doctor Joel, cousin Mindy, brother Gene one eyed one ear'd, sister-
# # Am Not Just A Drop [in Top 500]
born from a spring
from mother earth's womb
an adventurous child hood and teen
in a waterfall
in that whole lot a few drops will
perish or stagnate
a romantic trip in its youth
as a stream or river
Spring In My Native
During the spring in my riverine country
Green is every big and small tree,
Soft is every blade of grasses on soil
Cute is every mole and hill;
Love flies here at this romantic time
Singing the most thrilling rhyme,
Seeing here this nature
Anyone can draw its features;
Meditation
Coming out of home I see some land and much water all around
Full with wonderful animals, plants, myriad of natural objects
Some I can name and some I can't, some near and some are so far
Some open, some covered, some sweet again some are so bitter,
First day, I see and think of the beauty remembering my sweet heart
I become romantic one reciting some romantic poems, singing a song
Run through the countryside playing hide and seek, hunting wildlife
Earn a speed leaving all behind, treading all innocent to go fast,
My Sad Self
To Frank O’Hara
Sometimes when my eyes are red
I go up on top of the RCA Building
and gaze at my world, Manhattan—
my buildings, streets I’ve done feats in,
lofts, beds, coldwater flats
—on Fifth Ave below which I also bear in mind,
its ant cars, little yellow taxis, men
walking the size of specks of wool—
*** Haiku Of Love ***
Romantic rains falls
Sky leans on the earth to give
mouth watering kiss
Passionate rain pours
lovers earth and sky chatters
sounds pitter-patter
A monsoon wedding
Sky gives green sari as
~ Enigmatic Navel ~
~ ENIGMATIC NAVEL ~
Ms. Nivedita.
UK.21.10.09.
Oi
Why cave navel?
Unveil
Navigate I’ll
Keep not enigmatic.
A Different Sky Is Waiting
We’ve been in the rain so long
That our eyes are sore and red;
When joy is missing,
We gaze down too long at our feet
As we slowly walk through the city,
But there must be a different sky waiting
Offering love and inspiration.
Beneath these yellow factory skies,
Even the street lights look sadly dim,
A Teen Aged Widow
When the morning star,
Sees first sun ray,
And disappears,
In grief and distress,
Gives a parting kiss,
To the nude lady,
Who takes her bath,
Every early morning,
In the sea of fire,
And once again,
Galaxy Of Poetry
On that dark night when I was not able to sleep
When I wanted to escape from this earth
to a different galaxy.. I flew high and landed in this galaxy of poetry
Where I am happy and more satisfied than ever before
I saw lots of glittering and shooting stars
Illuminating my Darkest night
Some are glowing like sun and rendering
warmth to brighten my day
Each one is unique in their writings
The wonderful poets who cherish my life
That Iron Lady
A proud, regal, majestic and elegant machine,
She's a magnificent sight, this metal powered dream
Pulsating over hundreds of miles of railway track,
Never once to be found, ever looking back,
Onward with a purpose, watch how she races,
Visiting destinations, in so many far off places,
Pushing on, with such vigorous determination,
Giving not one thought, or one moment's hesitation,
Dedicated loyal service, she's an engine so supreme,
That romantic iron lady, from the golden age of steam.
Let Me Love (Verse)
I
The world is a vast market of trading love
though it is not a visible commodity at all
every man and woman are buyer and seller
they either buy or sell love at an uncertain profit
some make interest, again some lose capital
but nothing can be obstacle of its buying or selling,
it only depends on the classes of love,
physique, mental demand, ability, and psychology
The Monument
Now can you see the monument? It is of wood
built somewhat like a box. No. Built
like several boxes in descending sizes
one above the other.
Each is turned half-way round so that
its corners point toward the sides
of the one below and the angles alternate.
Then on the topmost cube is set
a sort of fleur-de-lys of weathered wood,
long petals of board, pierced with odd holes,
Ancestor
It was a time when they were afraid of him.
My father, a bare man, a gypsy, a horse
with broken knees no one would shoot.
Then again, he was like the orange tree,
and young women plucked from him sweet fruit.
To meet him, you must be in the right place,
even his sons and daughter, we wondered
where was papa now and what was he doing.
He held the mystique of travelers
that pass your backyard and disappear into the trees.
The Romantic Age
This one is entering her teens,
Ripe for sentimental scenes,
Has picked a gangling unripe male,
Sees herself in bridal veil,
Presses lips and tosses head,
Declares she's not too young to wed,
Informs you pertly you forget
Romeo and Juliet.
Do not argue, do not shout;
Remind her how that one turned out.
Romantic Love
Love is not of minds alone;
Love is not of hearts that yearn;
Love is not of bodies entwined;
Love is more than the finest wine!
Love is not just when eyes see;
Love is not just when ears hear;
Love is not all sensory;
Love is more than what you dream!
High Flyer
They were 'Proctors' and 'Jackaroos' in those days.
Single wing aeroplanes,
two and four seaters,
either open engines, or open under your seat.
Exciting for a seventeen year old.
I went up with the commercial pilots,
logging up their flying hours.
Artificer
Burning, he walks in the stream of flickering letters, clarinets,
machines throbbing quicker than the heart, lopped-off heads, silk
canvases, and he stops under the sky
and raises toward it his joined clenched fists.
Believers fall on their bellies, they suppose it is a monstrance that
shines,
but those are knuckles, sharp knuckles shine that way, my friends.