Thursday, 24 September 2015

more sijo



Presence felt despite absence – the real power, now gone, no more.

You chose it, we accept it; your memories though unforgotten.

The river flows despite everything, the joy of flowing who’s to feel?

__________________



He embraced her full blown Love in Night’s shelter, out of Danger.

In wait lay Morning and Light to reveal them to Seeking Eyes.

Mother Earth understood it all; she slowed down her move graciously.

__________________



I walked out; the sun was bright, the day too hot and I wondered

why again the rising heat and yet normal, people so cool?

September came with the answer, spraying the air with perfume of love.

__________________



September, as you arrive August seems far and forgotten;

yet it feels July dropped by just yesterday, gifting us heat.

And love says it will visit soon; I wait and wonder when and why.

__________________ 



Faceless Fear, you walk about conquering all with your soft touch.

Robot-like, we wait for more; our steps not ours, heavy, noisy. 

September, you visit and leave; do we even say hi or bye?

__________________



The morning brought great sunshine, promising smiles, and then you came -

your Self strong; the energy travelled so fast, my soul hit hard.

The sun hid, perhaps the effect of those silent cries it hears well. 



Saturday, 5 September 2015

I attempted Sijo!

I shared this as well at the 1st Bloggers Conference, 30th August 2015.



When I meet people with similar passion (for writing) on facebook, I sometimes enjoy a fun ride with them writing my poetic thoughts. One such fun ride recently was the Korean Sijo form... a more or less prosy 3-lines-stanza...the first two stanzas 3-4-4; the third stanza 5-3-3 with a surprise element.

The moon shines bright as the sun, not competing, each in its time.
But we say night has fallen, the day rises; and in both we.
Darkness first, then a faint light greets at the end of it; dark is light.
_______________________________________________________

Within lies the big secret - in nothingness whole you and me.
Selflessly our doors open and love enters into the empty.
But this glass is too full for more and water’s flowing free to nowhere.
________________________________________________________

The green fields running for miles as far as these eyes can travel;
in my mind, fresh milk on boil for evening tea – Ah! The flavour!
How many? I ask of life’s miles that the universe holds secret
_____________________________________________________

The day’s robbed of its light soon as the night falls sooner each day.
Yet the heat persists too long and my windows remain open.
How is it that you love me still when my love runs cold in Autumn?

Thursday, 3 September 2015

I love Haiku!



 I shared this at the 1st Bloggers Conference, 30 August 2015.


I take great pleasure in trying different forms of poetry. One such form is the Japanese Haiku. I simply love this form... a 3-lines-stanza of 5-7-5 syllables, the last line with a surprise element...

sweet gentle Autumn
you are here, yet not really
dilemma of love
____________________________

bright day cloudy sky -
you surprise me with your swing
to July and back
_____________________________

a summer night walk –
darkness in dazzles for miles
her shadow with her
____________________________

night falling gently
a man’s prayer filling the air
she closes her eyes
_________________________

fire in her heart
last drop of water on lip
a love song escapes
_________________________

sweet chirping of birds
through my window, i watch
the day retire

When the curtains are drawn



I shared this at the 1st Bloggers Conference, 22 August 2015.

We all have those moments (a brief second) that spark off words we waste no time in penning down. One such moment for me was when I looked at a photograph of light entering through a window that had the curtains drawn. It produced these lines. 


When the curtains are drawn,
it’s like the world enters your life -

shedding light,
warming,
informing,
sharing.

We may see, we may not;
we may feel, we may not;
we may learn, we may not;

but the blank space
gets filled with unspoken words and emotions -

of love, hurt;
peace, troubles;
healed souls, painful moments.

Stories float around -
noticed, unnoticed;
and when grabbed,
put onto paper,
we enter the world, feel a part.

Lonesome days, in the past;
and todays, promising
of tomorrows.

...when the curtains are drawn.