Author: poetryfest

Love the mystery…
Love…
The mystery…

Love is a feeling…of curiosity…
Yearning for the moment…what might be…
Love plays hide and seek…
But truly never meets…
So, please…
Love the mystery
Love the mystery

Love is eternal…lasts till eternity…
Love is a feeling…wherein I’m, you are me…
Love that mixes up the Worldly things turns to a demanding mess of give and take…
So, please…
Love the mystery
Love the mystery

Love…the mystery exists in you…exists in me…

Love the mystery
Love the mystery

written by Raushni Srivastav

Comfy in a cabin on rails, the traveller

cuts through the glinting gloaming,
into a tunnel of trees.
Firs and pines peppered white,
merging into the disappearing dusk.

Mountain scrub, air brushed with snow.
Peeping through, fighting back,
showcasing the constant duels
between land and nature,
Weather and earth.

Snow tempting, tantalising,
treacherous, the balance between
beauty pristine and chaos cruel.
Muffling, mesmerising, Medusa.
Melting, revealing a mosaic of place.

Comfy in a cabin on tracks, the traveller
returns. Reflecting sun sparkling
on the vanishing snow.
Brittle branches, black and white brush strokes
on a master canvas

Travelling transition transformed.
Emerging emeralds jades and olives,
speckled with burnished bronze and golds.
Thawing, melting, revealing,
Natures perfect patchwork.

http://www.azizisa.org/en

The sun shines above the volcano
By the sea where Mussolini’s boot was burned
Their green orchards were full of fruit
Their fortresses were the tallest of all.

Fish swim merrily through the sea
The smell of wine has not yet evaporated from the pot
A couple on the beach forget the world
A love song sung at high tide.

The silver-coated water gleams
Love’s sails blush on the horizon
Unlucky mountains with great sorrow in their hearts –
Shake the earth when they explode.

Lovers’ tragic stories are carried by the boats
On this island countless babies were born …
Yet how many hopes were drowned in the sea
Tears fall from the dark clouds on the face of the earth.

The cathedral’s twin domes are in rebellion
The god of love sunk in silence
These ancient fortresses were left to us by kings
They tell us the truth unflinchingly.

The colourful street leads straight to the fortress
Every step reminds me of Kashgar
Their noodles and pastries are like ours
The figs of Atush grow here throughout the seasons.

Hopes are floating on the Mediterranean Sea
They arouse great desire in the heart of a desert boy
Gusts of wind kiss my chin without asking consent
They drag me to the sea to swim with the sun.

This island has witnessed countless ages of history
Though the spirit of the Romans has diminished
Elkun seeks a moment of comfort here
Even though his life belongs to the Tarim!

20 September 2016, Cagliari, Sardinia, Italy

Sweet was the time the baby first smiled.
Now, secret is the heart of this broken child.
Perhaps, his mother thought, a little sorrow
would be part of his tomorrow. Who can say?
But deep sorrows became his today.
The tender warm touch was all he wished for,
but where were daddy’s protecting arms
to keep him safe from harm?
Of a childhood filled with uncertainty, loneliness,
he remembered and filled his life
with dreams and destinies to erase the pain,
but alone in the night he trembled and shed his tears
longing for daddy to chase away night’s fears.
The years flew. Now he has a son of his own.
How sweet he remembers when his babe first smiled,
but he cries as he wonders will his son, too,
become a broken child.

Cherie’ Waggie
written 2002
all rights belong to me, the author..

From within it stirs
Barely moving, barely awake
Its breath misting, steaming, warming;
Slowly it stretches
Reaching out
Its tentative touch
As fragile as floss spun glass
Crystalline, beautiful and alive.

Sentience claims it now;
Aflood with rainbow strands
Splashes of love
Chromatic, chaotic, clarity unconfined;
A symphony of angelic chorus
Innocent and perfect in its purity.
Its fractalline beauty unrivalled in grace.

Heart thrumming
No longer pulsing alone
It has twinned, paired –
Alone nevermore.
Touch as soft as a cloud’s caress.
Gentle, calming, soothing, safe.
It is all of this and so much more.

Prove You don’t like to share
Wear your mask everywhere

I’m not tryin’ to be mean
Could you also keep your hands-
Clean
I don’t know you well
But this virus cast a spell

Sanctions set aside
It’s the quality of life
That we all deserve to thrive

And no flag-waving
Misbehaving
Disrespect will take away
The Severity, if you need clarity
We’re wasting away
Disrespecting life everyday

Put your ego away
Place yourself above the Sway

he bud that you nurtured
With love and care
Bloomed it to a flower
Took pride in its beauty and grace
Same flower swayed in
The direction of its choice
Annoyed, infuriated
You took it as a blot
As a disgrace to your HONOUR
And you nulled
Its existence!
How could same hands
That nurtured it to bloom
Be so cold ; so inhuman ?
How could that heart
That was the seat of love
Harbour such hatred ?
How could the mind
That gave lessons of
Courage and resolution
Be so intolerable of
the individuality of
The flower of his own garden ?

Poems are as poems go
Be they long or troublesome
Or be they short and droll
Poets are as poets come
Beloved or not we know.

So if you like it or if not
There’s only one condition
That poets give it their best shot
With or without contrition.
They give us what they’ve got

So if you like or if you don’t
Is really not a problem
What is really what we need
And the only thing is that indeed
Just that we’ve really got ’em.

In any case, that’s what I hope…
Thank God for poets and for their poke
They give us fires we all can stoke!
Food for thought and heat indeed
To tame the winter should we need.

Poems and poets
Two things we need
Thank God for them
And for their seed.
Indeed, dear friend, indeed.

In silken cocoon I roll
Protected by my mother
With luck I will survive
If not eaten by my brother

Barely a new born bub
I balloon to find a home
Floating far, far away
Wherever I may roam

Grounded in a new world
I teach myself to spin
I must complete my web
Before the night moves in

My silk is my DNA
Stronger than rope or steel
My first imperfect web
Set to catch a meal

Do not ask me questions
I have no voice to speak
My food must be liquid
Before I can but eat

Disturb me in my web
I will start it swirling
I can keep it up for hours
Spiders call it whirling

Two claws for each leg
Helps me climb a wall
Man-made things like glass
Will always make me fall

I hope to hide from birds
Your shoe or that spray
I cherish my short life
Each and every day

See me in your home
Do not fret or scream
To me it’s dry and warm
Safe and cosy clean

Do not scream at me
For I cannot hear a sound
Only vibrations do I feel
On a wall or on the ground

I will readily earn my keep
Catching flies and bugs
I will remain in my corner
Away from shelves and rugs

I only have cause to bite
If my life is at stake
Rarely am I fatal
Rarely a mark I make

Do not wave your arms at me
My eight eyes do not see
Ironic don’t you think
How my life can be

I have no nose to smell
Your displaced fright and fear
I am more afraid of you
If I am to be sincere

When our paths do cross
It’s a brief moment in time
What is years to human you
Is a minute of spider mine

Your amazing thoughtfulness,
silly antics, openness,
and loving words
stirred something inside
and blurred the lines
about how things should be
and made me realize
this is a sign
of how fortunate I am
to share just a little
of your time.

Thoughts of this
stretch a slow, sweet smile
across my face
and make me
deliciously
anticipate
our next talk,
our next laugh,
our next embrace.

More than
your sexy fun style,
Your smile
Lights up my world,
with warmth
and Roman Candles.

Even though
you are not mine,
I hope to share
a little more
of your time…

Because you inspire
a Fire
of all kinds.