Pounds of pain punctured my progress
Tons of trouble terminated my tranquility
Swarms of stress subtracted my substance
My heart exploded like a thousand thunders
...
How pleasant to know Mr. Lear,
Who has written such volumes of stuff.
Some think him ill-tempered and queer,
But a few find him pleasant enough.
...
The hands of the clock were reaching high
In an old midtown hotel;
I name no name, but its sordid fame
Is table talk in hell.
...
The weary one, orphan
of the masses, the self,
the crushed one, the one made of concrete,
the one without a country in crowded restaurants,
...
There's a breathless hush on the freeway tonight
Beyond the ledges of concrete
restaurants fall into dreams
with candlelight couples
...
Woke up suddenly thinking I heard crying.
Rushed through the dark house.
Stopped, remembering. Stood looking
out at bright moonlight on concrete.
...
In beauty we dwell
Blooming stark from spring,
Who moves with flight,
Seasons the air
...
Bullet or a bomb
Both are blind and numb
Wall or a roof
Body or a soul
...
1
I carved your name on my watchband
with my fingernail.
Where I am, you know,
...
A true lover is proved such by his pain of heart;
No sickness is there like sickness of heart.
The lover's ailment is different from all ailments;
...
Poets, come out of your closets,
Open your windows, open your doors,
You have been holed-up too long
in your closed worlds.
...
The great Chinese dragon which is the greatest dragon in all the
world and which once upon a time was towed across the
Pacific by a crew of coolies rowing in an open boat—was
the first real live dragon ever actually to reach these shores
...
it's 1962 March 28th
I'm sitting by the window on the Prague-Berlin train
night is falling
I never knew I liked
...
I. Insomnia
The bulb at the front door burns and burns.
If it were a white rose it would tire of blooming
...
I
In the depths of the Greyhound Terminal
sitting dumbly on a baggage truck looking at the sky
...
The rain comes flapping through the yard
like a tablecloth that she hand-embroidered.
My mother has left it on the line.
It is sodden with rain.
...
It made her feel sad and embarrassed
Situation was so sudden and not assessed
Circumstances too were not so pressed
Emotions ran high and worries suddenly traced
...
And the Communists have nothing to offer but fat cheeks and eyeglasses and
lying policemen
and the Capitalists proffer Napalm and money in green suitcases to the
Naked,
...
Oh Tree
Don't cry
As you are alone
In this concrete jungle
...
I
What new element before us unborn in nature? Is there
a new thing under the Sun?
...
On green grass near hill top sat one poet
Seized with serious thought but very quiet
He was lean and thin but on simple diet
He mastered an art in composing the duet
...
When the sun shouts and people abound
One thinks there were the ages of stone and the age of
bronze
And the iron age; iron the unstable metal;
...
Do we need any type of advice from others?
Why other’s plight concern us and bother?
Are those concern only meant to be lip services?
Not to learn any for self from other’s misses
...
Mind does think with supersonic speed
Travel across the globe for future deed
Touch the unexplored area without any need
Store the data for further use and feed
...
History may have legend stories and the proof
We can’t discount theory and remain aloof
It may not sound well with changing scene
Never heard warrior fighting without head and seen
...
Every morning in the deep woods of the concrete jungle
With my near and dear ones I sing a coarse musical,
Humans raise from their good night sleep with a frown of unpalatable
They call me ‘Crow’ and express their acerbity with a scowl,
...
My mother all of ninety has to be tied up
in her wheelchair, but still she leans far out of it sideways;
she juts there brokenly,
able to cut
...
Sometimes, I, too, tell the ah's
of my heart one by one
like the blood-red beads
of a ruby rosary strung
...
On Fridays he'd open a can of Jax
After coming home from the mill,
& ask me to write a letter to my mother
Who sent postcards of desert flowers
...
Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete?
Proving nature's law is wrong it learned to walk with out having feet
...
Men with picked voices chant the names
of cities in a huge gallery: promises
that pull through descending stairways
to a deep rumbling.
...
I know you will not rain
As you find in it no gain
All our efforts are in vain
Problems follow like in chain
...
The intact facade's now almost black
in the rain; all day they've torn at the back
of the building, "the oldest concrete structure
in New England," the newspaper said. By afternoon,
...
I was born in 1902
I never once went back to my birthplace
I don't like to turn back
at three I served as a pasha's grandson in Aleppo
...
Lark and rose go mad, even with winter
coming on, the garden beneath the verandah blooms,
the park is dense with sun and soccer balls.
By lark I mean generic bird, God knows
...
The sounds of home greet me
the trickling sound of the fish tank
my mother's eccentric cackling
and my step father's loud voice
...
We will pay very dearly
Rain has gone and missed nearly
Many parts remain barren
Cry for water all over sudden
...
Its basic concept abut not the idea new,
May differ in ideas but not to ask for renew,
...
Walking; as if I am walking in the scenery of story
Through mountain, hilly forest, bush of greenery
Walking beneath to peak, peak to beneath as spider
Seeing riding horse outside of forest, inside the tiger
...
Better,
despite the worms talking to
the mare’s hoof in the field;
better,
...
In long breaths expectations lead me to die
I want to take loan some times to omit sigh
Your love is one color in the coat of colorful life
The wings of heron flying on the village of blue sky
...
Rain on tinned roof
Rain on concrete
Rain soaking into sands
Rain on soft earth
...
Still sober, César Vallejo comes home and finds a black ribbon
around the apartment building covering the front door.
He puts down his cane, removes his greasy fedora, and begins
to untangle the mess. His neighbors line up behind him
...
What do you witness in modern poetry?
Does it represent sentiments of any country?
Do fond actual spirit missing and has evaporated?
It seems mind is bogged down and perforated,
...
Looking down through misty spheres
To visit wondrous lands
Hewn through time, through endless years,
Green fields and golden sands
...
Seamstress waits and sews to repair,
As the new rising will happen,
With righteous little earning
She still loves and lives happily
...
In flat America, in Chicago,
Graceland cemetery on the German North Side.
Forty feet of Corinthian candle
celebrate Pullman embedded
...
(These two poems are conceived for making one poem, belonging to concrete poetry.
The shape is ''two-in-one''.It's my version.)
Nothing ever happens.......................in the city.
...
The turquoise pool rose up to meet us,
its slide a silver afterthought down which
we plunged, screaming, into a mirage of bubbles.
We did not exist beyond the gaze of a boy.
...
There is total silence
No offense, no defense
Everything stops
There are no mops
...
Citizen, enemy, mama's boy, sucker, utter
garbage, panhandler, swine, refujew, verrucht;
a scalp so often scalded with boiling water
that the puny brain feels completely cooked.
...
.
clouds of angry concrete dust
born of rubble
born of ugliness
...
Once upon a time
there lived a pigeon
in the dense concrete jungle
of Bombay City.
...
The cold, parched pavement is like a warning sent
To her thought process to run, run away
Back to nature's dreams and the sweet melody of the birds singing each day,
She tries to be happy in this noisy, busy city overlooking the bay,
...
Phoebus, sitting one day in a laurel-tree's shade,
Was reminded of Daphne, of whom it was made,
For the god being one day too warm in his wooing,
She took to the tree to escape his pursuing
...
Its basic concept abut not the idea new,
May differ in ideas but not to ask for renew,
Press for follow up but not for review,
No need to learn and appear for interview,
...
True, the time, to one who does not love farce,
And if misery must be prefers it nobler, shows apparent vices;
...
Great Indian Republic Sixty
Sure going fast and hefty!
On this day - a solemn day
Services displayed might and strength
...
A lone flower peaks
Out over the city
From a tenement roof.
She is speechless
...
In Chicago, it is snowing softly
and a man has just done his wash for the week.
He steps into the twilight of early evening,
carrying a wrinkled shopping bag
...
They came from the lower levels
Deep down in the Brilliant mine;
From the wastes where the whirlwind revels,
Whirling the leaves of pine.
...
I
Tonite I walked out of my red apartment door on East tenth street’s dusk—
Walked out of my home ten years, walked out in my honking
...
Trees were my childhood friends (along with neighbor, Helen) .
Now trees, and other South Carolina plants, have me YELLIN'.
Oh, it may not be outloud-yelling; I keep some feelings inside,
But, my displeasure with some plants here, I'll not from you hide.
...
Better a jungle in the head
than rootless concrete.
Better to stand bewildered
by the fireflies' crooked street;
...
Notice how he has numbered the blue veins
in my breast. Moreover there are ten freckles.
Now he goes left. Now he goes right.
...
Should I simply end my life?
Would save you all a load of pain
With the dragging of a knife
Deep across my bloody vein
...
Sultry heat
A tad bit softened
But concrete is still burning
With rays of summer
...
Poem-1
Sweltering Summer
Concrete roads slither
A cuckoo coos
...
(Sonnet as Keynote to WS)
The stout man puffs on his Havana cigar
And picks canary chords on his blue guitar,
...
The vagueness of life
So accentuated by fog
Each morning reminds
We are travellers of unclear paths
...
The sound of wooden rake scratching concrete.
walk nearer - rustle of dry leaves.
This, the beginning of a Japanese haiku
...
Look into my window,
Observe silk flowers
Swaying to a ceiling fan breeze,
And a wallflower,
...
Earthworm, Oh earthworm!
Poor earthworm crawling on the concrete
You are burned by sunrays and can't go back
You came up when dew was in the grass
...
I stare into the garden pond, wondering
On the theory of evolution
And how it applies to frogs
Why their life changes, so quickly
...
Grey pigeon flutters on ledge of concrete.
Wonder, how it survives on urban streets.
Seen them flock in city squares as folks throw seeds.
Unlike hawks don’t swoop down and snatch with greed.
...
I
As eons of incalculable strife
Are in the vision of one moment caught,
...
i cop a squat on a squared-off log,
to watch you ball on the community center court.
butt numb, i shift my weight
...
Peoples of the world, together
Join to serve the common cause!
So it feeds us all for ever
See to it that it's now yours.
...
Home
No language to describe-
about the home I have left behind,
...
Whenever I feel very low,
Tired and rushing against the crowd
In this big jungle of concrete, steel
And glass called: New York City,
...
Up, up
The smooth and glassy surface of my shower
He crawled
His delicate spindly legs glued, as if by magic
...
Walk in
City’s familiar
And unfamiliar
Bylanes;
...
Rain filled the streets
once a year, rising almost
to door and window sills,
battering walls and roofs
...
Poems, like poets, have much to say -
They may describe a rainy day,
They may sing love songs light and gay
Or speak of deep despair;
...
Respected poetess Madam
Wonder Jasmine Sylvia Frances Chan
[Note: This review letter is World Poetry Day Special Comprehensive Review published on date 21st March 2019 and Gift given on Occasion of Happy Holi Celebration for date 22nd March 2019]
...
I turn away the diamonds in her blood
To try to guess the texture I really wish I could
It takes a lot in order for me to get the feelin'
To see how a liquid can be the cause of all the killin'
...
Waking up back hurting.
Sun in my eyes, mosquito bites on my skin I begin to itch.
Swating away flies I get up from my concrete bed.
Bloodshot eyes see blurry in the light from crying myself
...
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...
Fair is going on in our city,
We want to visit getting sure joy,
Oh dear greenish white city bus,
You stop for a while to pick up us,
...
God spoke once in the dark: dead sound
in the dead silence. I turned
in my sleep.
I slept and sank away.
...
Towers of strength
Granite
Enduring
Like life itself.
...
The crow that flew over us and sank-
in the confusion of a vagabond cloud;
The crow that swiftly crossed-
the extent of the sphere-
...
Today the circus poster
is scabbing off the concrete wall
and the children have forgotten
...
Spare just a moment for the bird
Who flew from bleak winter of her habitat,
In search of warmth, food wet lands
And green fields, instead only found silt.
...
The dried up lake
contrived to look both
surprised & embarrassed
...