Pinching Crabs

Joint Poetry by Venkataraman L.N. and Joseph Kurian

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#166 POETRY =

By Charles Robert Lindholm

Poetry =

A grin at nightfall

Caught a last glimpse on the river at dusk
of the sun as it ended the day
the evening came fast
now the daytime was past
and I couldn't expect it to stay

So I watched as the river down there in the gloom
slowly turned on the tide
as the night time set in
meeting there with my grin
which like it was silent and wide

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Saving Grace

Slowly dusk descended
and it got really hard to see
but the birdsong in the evening sky
was great for Sal and me

And though we’ve said it here before
we really love this place
and though a broken record-like
it is our saving grace

Shadows

I watch my shadow from noon to dusk,
Ever growing in size and lust,
Making me taller than a redwood tree
And stretching the limit of what I can be.

Until the fading sun falls all the way down
And I am beyond the starry lights of town.
Now lost and one with the black nothingness
I am left to mourn my colossal, black hubris.

I kick a stone as I walk home alone,
Struggling to forget the hope I was shown
And accept that I am an ego confined by flesh:
A spirit trapped, and a man depressed.

Dusk

Faster, the light docks in its crawl. The hall
between her breasts burns like a lemon. The seeds
in her eyes she veils with her arm, dips
her cherry chin,

Westward Window

Sierra, my home. Bedroom the sky. Holyholy zoom, the eagles,
directing my eyes I am a habitué, dawdling gazer with
a wide brimmed hat, flounder(er) with my words I trip over
the too large robe of my praises.

#166 POETRY =

By Charles Robert Lindholm

Poetry =

How Now should we Handle these Water Lilies?

How now should we handle these water lilies?
One stone could break the sunset. I’ve a mind
to skip rocks, glide into a wade, feel beneath
with my bare feet, and leave you on the shore.
For night tiptoes, then jumps, weighing dusk in;
we’ve not much time, and this, is to my advantage.
In love, woman are ahead, and men behind; as luck
would have it, I am to be far beyond reach. I think
I may dunk into the blooms atop, and like a seabird
sail under you, as breaths waft alow heavy eyes.
Though by your height, your breath this late eve
has a clear path straight to my soul’s window.

Evening’s Approach

 

Evening scene

Twilight sheen

Tao at Dusk

Look , but be totally still.

Three dark ants navigate through
a maze of August-dried needles
without an apparent purposeful goal
to the eyes of the old woman watching.

Fading light; silver sea

 

The silver sea lay still and calm
as dusk gathered round about
and on the shingle gazing
we watched it as the light went out
The evening faded into night
as it crept in from the west
A perfect spectacle for us
on the beach where it is best

Mirrored sea

 

Sea shines as a mirror
As night time gathers round
The breeze the faintest whisper
Waves break without a sound

Time Between Times

This is the half-light
The magic time
Deep blue light
Fresh born stars
Tales weaving
In expectant air

Notes at Dusk

in an attempt
to correct your thought
I wrong myself