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The Clock Sat Smugly on the Shelf – A Poem by Firestone Feinberg

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The clock sat smugly on the shelf,
As if upon a throne,
Contented with uncounted wealth
Accrued through debtor-loan.

One thousand minutes from the lad
Who tried some time to keep-
Two hundred hours from the maid
Who’d stolen off to sleep–

And twenty days the afternoon
Full washed away by rain–
And thirty weeks- owed by the moon–
For daring so to wane.

Then laughed and laughed the greedy clock,
And selfish sneaked his hands,
As screaming trumpets- tick and tock–
Exclaimed his steep demands.

More at http://www.firestonefeinberg.com and http://www.verse-virtual.com.

Three Poems by P.K. Deb

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Seventeen blank shots
five each for birth and death,
wedding gets seven.

~~~~~

Wrestling or scuffling
quite intimate dual,
an earthly comfort.

~~~~~

An accomplishment
grows ten hands in a body
pays to two only.

The Lesson – A Poem by Claire Meadows

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Did we find answers there? Across
The square they walked in groups, twos, threes.
You watched, trying to recall a lesson,
The Latin I had traced with a fingertip.
A lesson common to them all.

The air was green, and the jasmine had turned,
The smell sickly yellow.
Delicate. No-one could bear it,
But you, who made an afternoon bloom, and
Flushed me out from my study. For all time.
Caught me, like a child, with remembrance.
With voices from your past, breaking my peace,
And deserting me. My love.
You wore your crown of bays and recalled the lesson.
And my place was shattered.

I think we found our answers there. In a place,
That you could break and tear.
Until all that was left was me.
Did you still come willingly?

Biography – A Poem by P.K. Deb

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The childhood, the youth and the old age
The ages to learn, earn and efface.
An age of dependence the childhood is
Compelled to spend on other’s wish
Encircled with books and prohibitions
Controlled and regulated all its actions.
The earth rotates with its revolution
And a youth grows up in evolution
Domestically wild he is in nature,
An incarnation with fearless gesture.
He is a riddle-less galloping horse
Fond of leaping to summit and endorse
The triumph of his purity and vitality
But criticised merely for its prodigality.
Synonymous to him- tied or untied,
He runs with storm keeping aside
An obstruction may imperil his life
But he smiles at it only to gibe.
Accumulates experiences and resources
Shares with whom he loves and graces
Rules his world for long time and term
And surrenders when he becomes infirm
The old age is the heart less age of effacing
Prides and contumacy start vanishing
The strength gets lost and amazed
And the biography is stopped and effaced.

Ode to the Poet in Me – A Poem by Anuradha Fonseka

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Oh thou… who were very gentle and mild
Who always lived with me
Tried to make me a human not wild
Always showed me a precious key

Thou looked left to right up to down
Found something to pour out
Being wearied by the busy town
Thou decided to fade out

I stare at a thing now
Before I stared and thought
I knew you were there no
To have you I struggled and fought

Oh the poet in me please leave me no
For I will exist than live
I want to pour out my soul more
You have helped to give

As long as you consist
Somewhere in me
I will live than exist
With the help of thee

No Religion, Only Love – A Poem by G. S. Katz

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I have no religion
The one I have is in the lock box
Love is the closet form of prayer
It’s around every corner, waiting, wanting

Love can start anywhere
On line at the post office
On the C train headed to Penn Station
Shopping for avocados in the market

Even if your heart has been splintered
In a million shards of scrap
Go to the lost and found
The clerk might be holding flowers

Live, Lust, Dream, Laugh
Smile through dark clouds
Pet a dog, give money to those with less
Love yourself, Make this the day…

Love – A Poem by Naduni

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Filling my eyes with tears
You went… leaving me behind
In the evening you fill my dreams
Why do I love you… like this?
You did cheat me, I know
The hurt is written in the heart
But before your eyes
I am servile… only you know why
Feel like meeting you again
Tomorrow evening and saying “I love you”
Though I dream only about you
You don’t belong to me, I know…

Rhyme – A Poem by G. S. Katz

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I don’t know
I don’t like to read
Poems that rhyme
It’s kind of a cop out
A gimmick
That sing song sludge
You call your verse
Take some time
And do it right

The Ensnaring Morning – A Poem by P.K. Deb

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My morning clean and clear eyes
The best place to fall on them
For something fresh, cool and nice.
The same old park of monotony
For daily jogging, walking and refreshing–
Was my routine- wise morning destiny.
Exhausted body and monotonous mind
Compelled me to sit for a while
On a bench with a bush behind.
Luckily the morning was dutiful
In awaking up my dormant fortune
To witness a jogging girl- fresh and beautiful.
What a thrill it was! The jogging–
She jogged freely round and round
But made me submerged in sweating.
A heart-quake was felt
To shed down my synthetic seriousness
And to heat my heart to melt .
I discovered my naughtiness
As my protruded eyes and inquisitive mind
Jogged behind her as shameless.
Slowly the sun came the park inside
Made the girl tired and brought her
About to me to sit beside.
She wished me, “Good Morning,”
But ensnared and watchful I was
To her ups and downs of quick breathing.
“Hey Mister, where are you?” she enquired
And brought me back into the reality
From fantasy where I was quite ensnared.
On my stammering in reply,
She sketched a curved smile
And rewarded me her first and last good-bye.

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