The Summer lights are going
The Winter nights are glowing
In this city
Harry Krishna tribes are singing
Who do you think you are?
You turn to me with that glazed look
Like your soul has been written
By my will
But that look
Like all your silver has been sold
And I'm the one
Who owes you gold
Who do you think you are
The alchemy of this situation
Is like a bowl of dust to me
Like a potter at a wheel
You've turned me
Around and around
To the shape you want me
Fired in your furnace of love
I'm like a fragile vase
For you to fill up
Who do you think you are
Wednesday, 25 September 2019
Summer nights
Labels:
summer
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
The long summer
Its time to look back
Now I'm not trying to compare
Nor even trying to understand
The things that I cannot bear
To even hold within my hands
It just leads to some despair
Of despots, generals, the common man
But if you tell me I will lead them
And together we can make a stand
Don't forget you owe me nobles
I borrowed your bottle
From the Arab sands
Where knights in white cloth
Ride full throttle
On their camels over land
Should you ask me for for their number
None will come when I feel number
Than a candle in a wax work tumbler
Rolling over rumplestiltskin
Last night I saw a ranger
Flying high above
The sea even looked
Stranger then
As if not the face I love
Autumn in Hungary
Warmth in the sunlit streets
Nobody moves out of your way
Nothing poetic to say about that
Now I'm not trying to compare
Nor even trying to understand
The things that I cannot bear
To even hold within my hands
It just leads to some despair
Of despots, generals, the common man
But if you tell me I will lead them
And together we can make a stand
Don't forget you owe me nobles
I borrowed your bottle
From the Arab sands
Where knights in white cloth
Ride full throttle
On their camels over land
Should you ask me for for their number
None will come when I feel number
Than a candle in a wax work tumbler
Rolling over rumplestiltskin
Last night I saw a ranger
Flying high above
The sea even looked
Stranger then
As if not the face I love
Autumn in Hungary
Warmth in the sunlit streets
Nobody moves out of your way
Nothing poetic to say about that
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
A bed of snow
Well the sun came down
Every step of the way
And Heaven seemed
Such a long long day
Paradise was lost
Along the way
But regained at great cost
To the ones who would pay
You see I saw the demise of the skies
That day
That fortune smiles on us guys
Down the blue highway
But in the end who wins
When nobody pays?
I've got golden luck
I'm sure
But its on a silver sideways
The more you see
The less you understand
Well that's just like me
My love when I show you my hand
Try and read the palms
They'll be blowing in the wind
To the sound of the Caribbean
An impostor has been sleeping my bed
He told me nothing when I asked him
What was inside his head
He was like an actor
Who had lost his script
The words come out
But he's no idea how they'd been writ
I ask why he needs to swallow his pride
He tells well its best to put those old things aside
I say from my standpoint we all look the same
He said they sure do when you're inside the game
Try looking at things from the outside
And so I started by removing his dark glasses
So I could tell when he lied
Every step of the way
And Heaven seemed
Such a long long day
Paradise was lost
Along the way
But regained at great cost
To the ones who would pay
You see I saw the demise of the skies
That day
That fortune smiles on us guys
Down the blue highway
But in the end who wins
When nobody pays?
I've got golden luck
I'm sure
But its on a silver sideways
The more you see
The less you understand
Well that's just like me
My love when I show you my hand
Try and read the palms
They'll be blowing in the wind
To the sound of the Caribbean
An impostor has been sleeping my bed
He told me nothing when I asked him
What was inside his head
He was like an actor
Who had lost his script
The words come out
But he's no idea how they'd been writ
I ask why he needs to swallow his pride
He tells well its best to put those old things aside
I say from my standpoint we all look the same
He said they sure do when you're inside the game
Try looking at things from the outside
And so I started by removing his dark glasses
So I could tell when he lied
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
The London Rain is falling
I don't love you in the rain
No more, no more
I don't love you in the rain
Amore, Amore, Amore
I don't love you in the flood
No more, No more my blood
I don't love you in the flood
Amore amore, amore
I don't love you in the down pour
No more, no more
I don't love you in the down pour
Amore, amore, Amore
How about the tear drop fall
No more, no more
How do those tear drops fall
Amore, amore, amore
Give me buckets I'll fill them with love
No more, No more my Lady
Give me buckets filled with your love
Amore, amore, amore
No more, no more
I don't love you in the rain
Amore, Amore, Amore
I don't love you in the flood
No more, No more my blood
I don't love you in the flood
Amore amore, amore
I don't love you in the down pour
No more, no more
I don't love you in the down pour
Amore, amore, Amore
How about the tear drop fall
No more, no more
How do those tear drops fall
Amore, amore, amore
Give me buckets I'll fill them with love
No more, No more my Lady
Give me buckets filled with your love
Amore, amore, amore
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
when the lights go out
You'll see everything so clear
There'll be nothing to be a fear
When the light goes out
When the light goes out
There'll be nothing to shout
There'll be no wind about
When the light goes out
You may hear that thunder roll
You may fear you'll lose your soul
But don't doubt
He'll be standing on the roof top shoutin'
When the light goes out
Too many men have bought a pen
They write but they're not wrought
They've gone out and sought
What they ought
But they still doubt
When the light goes out
Don't be one of them
The sureness when
You're full
Can be a balm when you're near harm
When the light goes out
So humor me and let me see
You in the dome to come
Where figures in their Roman robes
Will beat upon a drum
And herald in the tribune
With the best of news
Who sees how things stand
In the desert sand
When the lights go out
There'll be nothing to be a fear
When the light goes out
When the light goes out
There'll be nothing to shout
There'll be no wind about
When the light goes out
You may hear that thunder roll
You may fear you'll lose your soul
But don't doubt
He'll be standing on the roof top shoutin'
When the light goes out
Too many men have bought a pen
They write but they're not wrought
They've gone out and sought
What they ought
But they still doubt
When the light goes out
Don't be one of them
The sureness when
You're full
Can be a balm when you're near harm
When the light goes out
So humor me and let me see
You in the dome to come
Where figures in their Roman robes
Will beat upon a drum
And herald in the tribune
With the best of news
Who sees how things stand
In the desert sand
When the lights go out
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Tuesday, 24 September 2019
Muscles and Molluscs
As I went paddling down the Duna
The trees were like a graceful dream
The river bank looked like a scene
From Autumn
All the leaves turning brown from green
As I went paddling down the Duna
The young men passed me in their boats
Athletic bodies
Muscles bulging
While I in my own craft
Tried hard to stay afloat
As I went paddling down the Duna
All the birds flew over head
There were Cormorants
Passing in Vee forms
ducks parading in the shallows
The Autumn chill had risen
To the clouds
And dissolved into sun shadows
As I went paddling down the Duna
Suddenly a quiet stretch
I saw a crow playing a game
like fetch
It would pick up this shell
And in its beak fly a few meters up
Then next it dropped it onto the pebbles
As if to smash the shellfish guy
As I went paddling down the Duna
I turned my boat around just there
So I could watch this little miracle
Of evolution everywhere
On the fifth attempt
He'd cracked it
This crow could pull out
The mollusc
And so happy I could have shouted
Well done Crow, what a clever Guy!
The trees were like a graceful dream
The river bank looked like a scene
From Autumn
All the leaves turning brown from green
As I went paddling down the Duna
The young men passed me in their boats
Athletic bodies
Muscles bulging
While I in my own craft
Tried hard to stay afloat
As I went paddling down the Duna
All the birds flew over head
There were Cormorants
Passing in Vee forms
ducks parading in the shallows
The Autumn chill had risen
To the clouds
And dissolved into sun shadows
As I went paddling down the Duna
Suddenly a quiet stretch
I saw a crow playing a game
like fetch
It would pick up this shell
And in its beak fly a few meters up
Then next it dropped it onto the pebbles
As if to smash the shellfish guy
As I went paddling down the Duna
I turned my boat around just there
So I could watch this little miracle
Of evolution everywhere
On the fifth attempt
He'd cracked it
This crow could pull out
The mollusc
And so happy I could have shouted
Well done Crow, what a clever Guy!
Labels:
Autumn
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
Thursday, 19 September 2019
Hoopoe
James saw a Hoopoe
Flying high above
Funny to be on an island
And not to feel love
He caught it on his I phone
Him phone Her phone
He and She
This Hoopoe was caught
In a net whoopee!
James saw a Hoopoe
This is all I can say
It was many years ago
From here an eternity away
I call back to my past
My bird song echoes
But it will not last
As all the love
That we must one day
Let go of
The Hoopoe
Was as transitory
As a cloud shadow
He picked out its dimensions
Zoomed into its pixels
Like some wanted fellow
A felon escaped from prison
But it had no talons to speak of
Only this strange head
And then of course a distinctive call
To recognize miles and miles
Above the island of the dead
How many skulls have reverberated
This sound?
Called out for another's answer
Thinking themselves
The only other Hoopoe around
How many wood pecker skulls
have hammered the tree
And cracked like nutshells
Before they can get free?
How many skulls hear the ringing bells
How many hear the poetry?
Just the Hoopoe
Just the Hoopoe?
Flying high above
Funny to be on an island
And not to feel love
He caught it on his I phone
Him phone Her phone
He and She
This Hoopoe was caught
In a net whoopee!
James saw a Hoopoe
This is all I can say
It was many years ago
From here an eternity away
I call back to my past
My bird song echoes
But it will not last
As all the love
That we must one day
Let go of
The Hoopoe
Was as transitory
As a cloud shadow
He picked out its dimensions
Zoomed into its pixels
Like some wanted fellow
A felon escaped from prison
But it had no talons to speak of
Only this strange head
And then of course a distinctive call
To recognize miles and miles
Above the island of the dead
How many skulls have reverberated
This sound?
Called out for another's answer
Thinking themselves
The only other Hoopoe around
How many wood pecker skulls
have hammered the tree
And cracked like nutshells
Before they can get free?
How many skulls hear the ringing bells
How many hear the poetry?
Just the Hoopoe
Just the Hoopoe?
I like to write poetry and perform it at poetry nights. I've been writing some form of it since school years.
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