Haiku: 2018-08-11

symphonic voices
they fell before my ears came
after my eyes left

image: etsy.com

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Acrostic + Alliteration: 2018-08-07

Life loves, life leaves
Immerse islands, immerse itches
Nights numbered nights numbed

-25.07.18_23:43-

A torent crashing down
Beating down everything,

Typhoon 7

Why don’t you come back?
The day is not yet dawning,
The sun has yet to start shining,
And as far as I’m concerned,
There’s no evidence it ever will.
So why not come back to bed?

Why don’t you come back?
Dark grey clouds still cover the sky
Which has been sobbing since yesterday,
And shows no sign of stopping soon.
Mother Nature is under the weather,
So why not call in sick today?

-04.07.18_12:38-

The gods fight
You can hear them batter and

Engulfed

 

 

Engulfed at the seashores,

wondering if I should go

back or wait

till the dawn.

Karma

Newton Ranaweera

Fools say it’s our karma,
An unforeseen dharma
We two, nocturnal lovers,
Feast with bats, cats and owls
that succumb to this dharma.

Meeting

Newton Ranaweera

Through the tree tops
Moon peeped,
tiptoed
to a window,
knocked softly
and hushed
to keep his promise.

Summer Wars

The dust of Summer,
rubber, barbecue and
mT air that I beg might bring the rains, Neruda’s
gold ghost, Las Manos del Dia under an umbrella say
do I comprehend, how much it may mean
to meet a grizzled old tree
hale and green
after the many deaths
of teething Winter,
hollow poems
no justice
they cannot say,
Longfellow is out walking
my cautious light around the park.

The Oak

In the park there stands an old oak.
I know not how aged it is,
But it was here before I was
And it will remain long after I do not.

Every morning I pass by its thick trunk,
The oak waves its branches, goodbye.
And every night I drunkenly stumble home,
It’s standing still, in silent judgment.

Even when I dash past and miss its farewell
In the rush to catch the last possible train
To $9.50 an hour misery with no future,
I know the stoic oak is standing there,
Gayly laughing at my fleeting and meaningless struggles.

Of planting and weeding and watching things grow

Went to the allotment
the sun wasn’t there
But I attacked all the weeds
that had grown everywhere
And I planted nasturtiums
and more lavender too
To add to the ones which
from seedlings I grew

New Music

The quietness of the woodland brook
is always worth a second look

For with its trickle so it sings
and with it a new music brings

Right time, right place

In London quite early
(I was up with the lark)
So it’s still very quiet
in St James’ park

And just there by the lake
as I happenchanced by
A picture of heaven
for a smile and a cry

Water Flows

In rippling brook the water flows
Whence it came I do not know
Suffice to say its pleasant sound
is quite the nicest thing around

-02.06.18_22:18-

We sit
Smelling the sweet, heavy

PURITY

He peeled his skin, to see if

the blood has same purity as

the redness in his eyes,

the fact is silence

in the moonshine.

 

Purity has which colour

red or white

or is it because of the wine,

he coloured him red, to see if

he feels the purity as

the pure love in her eyes.

HEAT

 

The sunburns are red

The tanning is gold

The marks are real

The sweat is glowing

With the heat of the town.

 

She is burning

He is burning

To fire the conscious

To light the lamp

In the heat of the sun.

-16.05.18_22:38-

The night is wet and noisy,
Clammy hands cradle me

-15.05.18_09:57-

Limbs no longer bare

Tsuyu: The Rainy Season

As the conductor takes the stage,
The gentle drone of the audience
Turns to apprehensive, expectant silence
Awaiting the impending down stroke.

But before the ictus,
His rushing lift of the baton
Sends forth a gust of wind,
Chilling the air,
While raising the heat of anxiety.

-11.05.18_00:28-

I hide from her face,

Stop and Stare

Stop and stare

At the mirror

Is it the same reflection

When you were guilty?

 

The guilt raised the voice,

“I am not guilty

Of the old sin

Cemented with heavy bricks

Of the cold war.”

 

Break Away

Brown petal falling;
White life now wilted, but free
To Fear and Tremble.

The Sneaker 外岩の詩

Damselflies flutter about
Among the green, broad leafs
Above the mountain stream,
Darting through the river rocks
That make a natural bridge
To the mountain boulder field,
Where stone goliaths lie in wait.

Halfway up The Sneaker,
My love fights to hang on
To nothing more than a pebble:

-05.05.18_21:10-

The air chills my skin
As the wind gently blows

Observation and Implementation!

Observing the sky

In the moonlight

Observing the sea

In the sunlight

Observing the mountains

In the sunshine.

 

Inspiration (Micro poetry)

I blog at Megha’s World

Twin Swans

Newton Ranaweera

Beauty is doubled by adding beauty,
Hosts and guests with their gorgeous hue,
How so serene, so tranquil this scene to see!!
Green when doubly mixed with white and blue.