Winter Notes | Joan McNerney
Those sky champions…
birds twittering their game plans
each winter morning
Big bare tree
on top of the hill…
a giant spider web.
Snow gusts flying
through this long night
wings of an angel.
poetry site
Tales of the Loch | Susan N. Aassahde
The mystery shark
of dirt ranch scuttle
the mountain noon.
Deep loom of sage
trout Irish whisper.
Betrayal | Stan Morrison
I’m no good reading between the lines
I get stuck at decoding the obvious
I believed all those lies you told me
so who is really the fool after all
I know that by tomorrow I’ll be fine
and you’ll still have your sad life saga
you’ve broken our rental agreement
love’s only a lease, never a purchase
A Thought on the Reality of Humanity | Saarthak Haldar
In a lonely night
Beneath the star light
Flooded by ocean of thoughts
In a whirlpool, i was caught.
Imagining about life’s mysteries,
about death and so much miseries.
How to solve? Human imagination hasn’t reached.
As in our lives, so much problems and weaknesses.
For its solution, from God, we beseeched.
This thought, then, came into my mind.
So weak, inferior, evanescent, how can humans think, they are superior of all kinds.
As Master of universe, we behave.
And think, nature is our slave.
For power and territory, we have lust.
We always forget, we are just a star dust.
So much of bloodshed.
So much wars, humans have led.
Just for power and piece of land.
Only to be transferred, another one’s hand.
Time will come,
we will lose our greed, pride, with our senses.
And then, will be forgotten,
our transient existence.
Hence, will be end of human civilization,
in fraction of seconds compared to the cosmic age.
And in this vast cosmic arena,
only earth will be left as a very small stage.
In this infinite, never ending universe,
where human thoughts never been.
There, earth is just like a mote of dust,
suspended in a sunbeam.
More at https://poetriesonreality.home.blog/.
Parental Yoke | Rising-of-the-Sun
O what a tangled web weaved over me.
Breeding no lines halcyon luring indecipherable scrawls.
O scrabbled pinched of error baffling my steps.
“foggy cloud are near”.
O mirror…. through which we see.
Modelling of flowers can be restricted from growing an inch.
Thy vehicle transported us, hold no string of faring us.
Sprouting away heavy blasts and tromping matchs.
“Hold not our decision when it’s ripe”
Imposition of all on us though it satisfy us not.
Don’t strangle us out our breathe.
Teach us when you ought to.
Chastise us when ought to but don’t deprive us to prove ourselves.
Don’t suffer us our inert nutrients.
Pave us a way to prove ourselves…. “for the air train butterfly to fly and hold them not off high”.
Coach over us like forward drawing our gap thinless.
Don’t force our legs to kick after tender dance of ourselves.
Watch us like a coach don’t live our life like your own.
Tender heart can grow large if you tend to teach us.
Give us time to prove ourselves from what we’ve learnt.
Hold us not…