gurggling valley stream
brings joy to the heart of Mother Nature -
running in constant stillness
giving birth in rock
‘But it’s medieval language. Are you tearing out your hair trying to understand it? -
Rosemary Nissan Wade’s charming linguistic prompt blossomed all the rainbow colors in the fast turning brown of Autumnal graces. Ah Chaucer ‘most parfit gentle knight’ Father of the English Language, the starting point of English that is global today a ‘must read ‘for all English Literature students Poet -of the 14th Century ‘having God’s plenty’ indeed is to be honored for the greatest accomplishment of All Ages- The Development of English Language -I respect the Great poet and share these lines for Poets United.Thank you Rosemary Nissan Wade for reviving the Classic…
O’ we begin with Chaucer G
way back in the fourteenth century
and that’s how English should be
studied discussed and understood
when was there a ’schwa’ or not
or just another ‘e’.
‘To be or not to be ‘
do we quote all this deliberately?
Poets poets poets and poetry
is all that we read and see.
From the Classical Athenian Greeks
to the shores of Roman Virgilian Italy.
I was a reader of Literature
of floristic archaic aphoristic pithy
utterances about lean mean and murky
Poets stay alive and keep alive Poetry
But Poets make people they make nations
build stations on high-here are the words
of how the blades and swords
brought life and victory;
-No Poets are Dead but A Dead Society-
steel capped shaking jostling
heaving threatening horde
OUCH ! gushing blood
words spread anxiety
words become punishment
struggling dodging running
showing writing asking
‘Is jello fluffy?
Is the meal tasty?
is the cook qualified?
One last question -not
But stop before it is too late
pestering or not OUCH!
you’ll soon be in hospital.
CER Copyright 2014
Islamabad The Beautiful
September Sky dolefully darkens as mystic vapors rise, seems to call O’ Underworld receive Persephone She comes to be with husband Hades.
Changing colors changing breeze a whiff of heat for trembling leaves
last of the blossoms before the Fall every year, trees cry as greens cease
The 6th of September came again
and brought memories of war blasts and fights
in black outs courage prevailed as fears
grew everyday a front opened, new-
each day brought a fresh death
young and tender with a soft
breath’ cooled!a formless form-
when nothing was gained from the destructive
storm thrown blown and shown around;
all that was Holy stately and grand
in an instant brought to the ground;
Memories remain of
a love lost
a shattered dream
a silent scream
And the War goes on….
And bodies fall And so do the leaves
And so do the trees
And so many tears
And September Calls…..
Who is being fooled……Who is being ruled
Who is hiding and law abiding
Who is lost and who is found;
I wonder who is the victor And when will be the last round?
If anyone, a Demimonde be
who made her so and so I ask
buried in deep graves at birth
what a short life on Earth
anyone gave, or is giving? so I ask
mother symbolized , Mother sacred
crying candle, gypsy unclaimed
desiring to wander than beg asylum
in her own native country
a Nomad who made her so? so I ask
Arabia Africa Asia West or East
is she a bait for the lustful beast?
Ubuntu’ Ubuntu’ She seeks Thee
None Confessions to the Priest
Chastity by spiritually deceased? so I ask
I Me Mine Myself what can I say
oranges in the garden some areas gray
obey follow laws, transgress or delay
be with grandeur and rites of tay
serve best yet no one will stay, so I ask?
How to say that
a calm vision flashes again
How to convey, solemn serenitydescends to ease the pain How to stop the love that wishes to explain How to express that the heart beats in memories enchained
How to convince that a
peaceful presence remains
How to relate the tenderness
felt so deep in the domains
How to connect the eternal loss
that good health claims ?Some hand held close the sweet scent till it rose till waves were calm warm was the coat and the palm till darkness engulfed the misty heat the clasp unclasped letting go slowly sinking to the sandy floor love’s hope fell, held no more You too say? like all before? So sank the precious rose like a heart of hope but not of Faith as deep and vast as the seas and oceans eternal,pure’ Let me just believe then that it is fear of the sharp thorn
the sweet scent is but a refrain -
life’s safe lodging is but torn
Faith guides to safer havens to keep
unseen love ever holds the hand
have faith accept and hold, make it stay
patience and peace will reign….
there is always a personal loss
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