Moon

Alliteration Poem – Moon

26th Sep’17  ~by Venkat

Move mellow, move mellow
Make my moments melt
Mirrors, mist, melancholy
Memories morbid, meander

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My Pancakes Sang the Blues

Poem based on my culinary skill experimentation making breakfast today (8-31-2017) morning

Breakfast time,  to the kitchen,  pancakes on the menu today,
Healthy choice, blueberry pancakes, to start the day.

Searched the fridge, no fresh berries, what to do,
Frozen berries, used for smoothies,  to the rescue.

Hiking Down The Walk of Life

This poem was posted in my blog about a week back.  It was written based on my thoughts during a hike by the side of a creek, finding similarities and difference between hiking a known trail and journey through life.  Few lines are updated from the original post. 

Melancholy cooing of a lonely dove
Woke me up from my brief reverie
Senses lulled by gentle soothing sound
Of the gurgling merry stream
Hiking by the side of the creek

Stars Slip Through My Hands

the haunted hours

rendered transparent

ghost in my own life

my heart

an empty room

Painting

blue

blue is the color

of my sadness

not robin’s egg blue

too bright

too cheery

not navy blue

too flat

too traditional

ODE TO MELANCHOLY

ODE TO MELANCHOLY

Saturnal turnings to woeful wooings,
Unrequited in a heart that aches,
Infernal dreams of despair imbuing,
Hopelessly tethered to past mistakes.
 

Leonard Cohen – tanka

Leonard Cohen plays
his music to the angels
in the small hours now
Melancholy fades away
as Leonard now rests in peace

I Was Once Young

I say “I’m depressed.”
He replies
“Well, undepress yourself;
Come to the court with the ball and the women.”
I look away listlessly,
Knowing the drugs are gone –
They have fled.
The bottles are sadly empty;
Empty cans riddled
The window sill.
The window pane
Screamed with dusty odium,
As the sun gleamed with antipathy,
The people
With cars sped by
Going nowhere;
Perhaps to heaven
Or perhaps to hell
And

In This Silent Moment – Sestet

 

 

In this silent moment look,
Cloy night seems to draw up close
And dark fills this sun-filled room,
A fell chill wind falls on me
And is joined with a stream of tears,
In this safe place I call home.

Melancholy

There is no answer to
Her more than somber mood
Shadowed by sadness
Overwhelming , unexplained

That Gulls Flyin’ Low – Villanelle – October 16, 2014

 

That Gull’s Flyin’ Low … (Villanelle)

 

That gull’s flyin’ low, into the east
His longing call woke me up at dawn
On this special day, when I should feast —

good intentions don’t want my love anymore

Kidnap my attention,
and drag titanic raindrops
behind the curtains
of broken arithmetic

[one times zero still equals
a black hole and a bartender].

ii.
The kitchen clock
can’t wipe Wednesday’s brow
with epileptic fingers,
and the fridge throws hate
in the form of dismembered
chicken wings

Melancholy Granted

Melancholy granted,
uncalled and ne’er a reason why –
comes at moment’s dusk like this,
from silent wood and throbbing sky.

Illusions: Haiku.

The worst feeling must be
when you choke on what you have
been trying to preserve: illusions.