Friday, February 28, 2020

For Poets and Story Tellers United ~ Weekly Scribblings #8: Red Fruit Rendition ~ Apple of The Eye ~

Apples were always favorites
pomegranates difficult,expensive
though one of the best from the
Heavens,rare gems like rubies

in riddles commonly sung
one carton with yellow boxes
inside studded  garnet stones
power for body and bones
Cherries found in Northern Areas
fruit of cold mountain regions
tomatoes red eaten everyday,
fruit by season, not by day.

red blood oranges,  a delight
orange peels  be set aside

watermelons quite a mess
red plums best for stress

back to apples for all reasons
half full or semi red, Ah!

medicine vitamin C iron
or a pie, the best, apple of the eye

Wednesday, February 26, 2020

For Poets and Story Tellers United ~ Pantry # 8 ~ We Like Multiple of Threes' ~ Oceans Torn Apart ~

A favorite song begins with the phrase: 'oceans apart, day after day and I slowly go insane', I believe the poet means that there is a special feeling of affection which makes him drowsy as the English poet Keats wrote: and a drowsy numbness pains, as if of hemlock I have drunk'. Oceans are one of the many miracles of the Creator as the Earth itself is. The water holds itself yet moves, full of life, rebirth and deaths and fathoms of fluid space, stable for all ships and boats, salty roadways, for travelers transport and sport.

‘I saw three ships come sailing by’…

O' Poseidon bestowed with the power unique
tell us the secret of the two seas that do not meet
yet flow with different colors, wave by wave, move
by move, side by side, a perfect acceptance of diversity,

Poseidon speaks, ‘Man is nothing without the Gods’
oceans or skies the sole power is with the Creator
who loves clear open hearts, He blocks nothing nor
builds walls, see my home has no doors nor windows’

All are free to enter, float, sail, swim dive or dig
I am full of food, fish, color, charms and treasures
but many living beings are careless, inconsiderate
they throw harmful waste trash plastic on and in me.

Water will not become less but will be a source of
trouble for human beings themselves, the dead will
float the dying will cry and curse, the thought makes
me shudder, storms surge, waves rise to great heights,

Water is hurt, it is red now with blood and scales
breathing is difficult, inhale a struggle, exhale an
ordeal, oil blocks unmarked   uncharted   paths
Oceanides no longer accept offerings from fans.

Home state worries Oceanus, growing more old
countless pennies coins of gold, are useless down
on the sea bed, worthless is such a treasure which
sinks and loses its values, shine and becomes cold.

A revenge rises a tsunami results, as the grand
bowl shakes  jolts jumps and throws up-
beware O People …I envision a huge surge…
sing not any songs nor lie naked on the beach

Pray pray pray peace,  repentance forgiveness seek

Monday, February 3, 2020

For Poets Story Tellers United Writers' Pantry #5 ~ Light at the End of the Plastic Tunnel ~ Plastic Persistence ~

Light is truth, truth is light
day after day after night
nothing is visible nothing
in sight, in darkness tight,

the mind is dark, rigid,
fearless, oblivious, frigid
or so it seems, careless of
what might be, a delight?

plastic come plastic in use
plastic is easy, plastic light,
plastic cheap, plastic refuse
No, reuse, recycle, no abuse

but a plastic tunnel ? hope
to see the end of the scope
plastic is a terror, a killer
no thriller, no ease, must go

learning comes long after
a tragic ordeal, much killing
easy time,death for others,
a tunnel of hope with light

plastic must go,its criminal.

Thursday, January 30, 2020

For Poets Story Tellers United ~ Weekly Scribblings # 4 ~ New Tricks ~ Touch Control ~

He never learnt to drive
Nor could ride the bicycle
Ice cream is too sweet he said
no cup nor cone nor popsicle

locks and door knobs 
soon are broken,lost are the keys,
shoes and joggers 
are tight,
wobbly are the knees

and so she has to do most jobs
technical electrical digital much
unwilling to learn,alas simply lazy
can't teach now would rather avoid

there is a vast difference between
an old receiving dialing phone 
the floor gear car and a hybrid auto
and the latest  android system, touch'

Thursday, January 9, 2020

For POETS and STORY TELLERS UNITED ~ Weekly Scribblings #1 ~ The Earth is Alive ~

The Earth is alive below shaking disturbed cracking
still-yet in revolution,moaning rumbling protesting

O pale moon, bear witness
O sometimes silent sometimes chirping birds

take notes to the skies, fly as nature holds  the
wings-from darkness to dawn.

Speak not of the blood
that flows like rivers from wounds
that oozes from cruel cuts by sticks and pellets

that drops from splinters showered by blasts 
that is visible on clothes tattered and shrouds

O moon see the other side and send
a sign of peace
a bird of song
a light of love

Find, find a harbinger of truth justice and salvation.

The Earth is alive below, yearning to heal -
hoping, anticipating, 

Words chosen:  darkness, blood, harbinger

Tuesday, January 7, 2020

For CARPE DIEM HAIKU KAI # 1793 ~ New Beginnings ... First Day of Spring ~ Zephyrus Wakes Up All ~

new is not so new
seems Spring, warm,after colder charms
Earth yawns, green buds bloom.

virtuous veins flow with life
fragrant Zephyrus wakes up all.

Sunday, January 5, 2020

For POETS and STORY TELLERS UNITED ~ Writer's Pantry ~ Home is People ~ Childhood Home

At first it was a big house, with many rooms and open space all round it.Spacious lawn on the front side,and an open verandah or shaded space about eight feet wide which had to be crossed to enter. It was an 18th Century British style house with the kitchen built on the side about 10 to 12 feet away from the man it was..a building but as the family members began arriving and settling down, it became a home.

By arriving I mean migrating'.Leaving the home in another country, yes that was our real home. The place now occupied by the enemy army, forcing people to flee,escape,save their lives by running as far away as possible, across the barbed wire borders and to reach safer avenues with nothing but the dress on the body and if fortunate, the slippers on the feet. Helped by Refugee camps guided to reach surviving loved ones and hoping to make a new home, in a new land on a new space, in a new place.

Home where I was born is no more. The photograph shows a place I may call my childhood home as  my parents siblings uncles and aunts ,all lived in it together.

Home is where the heart is . This house with the number 24 was a real home –where we shared food, the games, the movies joys and pains, and books and stories. The best time where we sat in the warm sun in winters and often cooked outside. Where  Summers brought home made ice cream with fresh fruit specially mangoes. Where I started school and fell in love…with stories fables and fairy tales…unforgettable.

For Poets and Story Tellers United ~ Weekly Scribblings #8: Red Fruit Rendition ~ Apple of The Eye ~

Apples were always favorites pomegranates difficult,expensive though one of the best from the Heavens,rare gems like rubies in riddles ...