fun and games
because you are ash in
my greedy palm,
can appease me, lull me
means go. I never said
sad motels spelled
I never said we were
white picket fence
you will loathe me one day,
just not now. pride
more than a shining word.
time will make you
To and Fro
The romance of the jilted lovers was seasonal,
Like how the jet streams shift and the tides reset.
At times, there were peaceful full moons and gentle waves.
The lovers danced along, two meshed silhouettes.
Then there were others where the romance was history,
Neglected temples and rusted statuettes.
When it died, their chemistry was burned with the bridges
As though methane splashed on a lit cigarette.
Yet, deep inside the soil, a sprout remained alive,
Blooming despite the constant threat of its death.
And so it went, blooming and growing through the good,
Hiding away until the danger offset.
Despite the danger, the tribulations, the hardships,
The bloom ensured they'd have nothing to regret.
Water flows in the Pocasset River in July,
Backward from the bay in salt-heavy currents.
Its weight flows; liquid, cold silk, across my body as
I fight the tide, admitting no deterrents.
She hides her body from my eyes with embroidered silk
In my heart she is naked with skin like milk
Pure and untouched like a new flower risen from seed
My love for her has turned into more it´s need
So much of my day is spent watching her from a far
She is as beautiful as a shooting star
Never to be held by arms as unworthy as mine
She is a Goddess vestal and exquisitely divine
I have known her since we were children at play
We are friends but she is the light of my dull grey day
Everything brightens as I sing out her name
Even though she will never look at me as the same
I watched her grow from girl into a vision
Never to see all my hopes and dreams come to fruition
Though she acknowledges me I simply exist
She is my one true love never touched or ever kissed
© M.Withers/M.Strudwick . All rights reserved.
Both the name The EriduSerpent/EriduSerpent
and any written material is owned solely by the above named.
Permission granted for all written material to be shared but not for profit.
Printing or publishing is prohibited without seeking permission first from said owner.
Her eyes sing the forbidden verse of love, unafraid of the piercing pain it causes to my heart.
Like drops of nectar crystal tears touch the ground, cruelly taking away my soul in ten thousand pieces.
The same as Doha:
Unafraid of the piercing pain it causes to my heart, her eyes sing the forbidden verse of love.
Cruelly taking away my soul in ten thousand pieces, like drops of nectar crystal tears touch the ground.
A beautiful and thoughtful challenge by PhynneBelle. Most of the Hindu scriptures and many Urdu poems are in the form of Dohas, Chaupais (Quatrains), Chhand, Sorthas which are all parts of the Matrika metre (a poetic metre). The Veds, Ramcharitmanas and couplets by Surdas, Kabir and Rahim are mostly in metric forms.
Dohas by Kabir and Rahim are more recent and even used in common language today.
One such Doha by Kabir is :
Nindak nihare rakhiye, aangan kuti chhaway
Bin pani bin sabun, nirmal kare subhav
निंदक नियरे राखिये, आँगन कुटी छवाय |
बिन पानी बिन साबुन, निर्मल करे सुभाव ||
Keep your critic close, you get to know your faults if someone criticizes you, and you have a chance to correct them. Give your critics shelter in your courtyard and listen to the criticism without annoyance, because critic is not your enemy, he is helping you to clean the rubbish from your life without soap and water.
A Stranger Cloaked in Marigolds
Bathukamma had incense and senses no duller, the girl on the street fell in love with color
Then invited to their home for a celebration - of flowers, womanhood, hopeful extoller
The experience tinged her mind with reds, blues: of curry paste, cumin mixed with a coconut dew
She is Jewish, a dash of Christian yes true; But for that holy day, she celebrated Hindu
the music is playing and the world is now tuned out
the people go on moving but in silence
my hands over my ears, I just want to be...not here
I cannot break this nature of defiance
I turn it up to try to drown out the world
with the heavy beats, the drums, the guitars, the voices
if I become deaf from the noise of music
at least I'll still be deaf to the world I've avoided
“What would Jesus do?” used to be the catchphrase du jour,
asked before every decision, big or small,
but now I can’t recall when last I heard it at all;
so what, has everyone suddenly turned pure?
Or are we no longer concerned with doing what's right,
our consciences lost, our guilt complexes gone?
Verily I say it looks like a new age has dawned,
an age where it now often seems to be night.
Behold, 'tis now the age of just doing what seems right;
but is rightness in our own mind, no measure,
no ultimate ruling on what, or who, to treasure?
Alas, power is king and power is might.
I also could not find info on the number of couplets permitted, so I put 3 together, to comprise one poem, *shrug*.
Your head is filled with the dreams of tomorrow
Never once resting on the time you spend here today
You look past the shining stars and the planets
To find your destiny out beyond the endless way
Where do I fit in the plans for your future
Can I ever become a part of your grand vision
I feel so lonely left here in the darkness
Return so we can seal, in life, our love's decision
#loosedortha #poetry #sortha
I wonder, quite often at the existence of God- but, somehow I believe He (or She) exists
Still, while fully believing in a Higher Power- my grief and great misery do so persist
So, with defeat in my eyes and in my heart- I wholeheartedly surrender and bend but don't break
While all evidence suggests religion gone_ the smiles and love from family and friends can't be fake