Peach in him
5 December 2019
Wasted time
A circus that wound
Colours blind
To the Grey
A path leads under waters
Thundering in skies
Hark to tell
What ears comprehend
Through the well
Of light streams
Stories uninterrupted
In the mind that flies
The lips spell
Tonalities fused
Peach in him
Orange hue
Cobblers mend uneven shoe
One a pair of none
Memories – Maroon 5
In the wake of Peace
25 June 2017
Moonlight crept
On years’ integral
I plotted
Unknown math
The resolution reverse
Falling of a hat
Surrendered
Lightbeams surround frame
In dungeons
History
The location mystery
Lodged in sunken Time
Dragons flare
From the heaving chest
Orange zest
A glow fit
To fight in battle no wit
In the wake of Peace
Reading of the poem:
Sojourn (eight string religion) – David Darling
Slow Dawn – David Darling
Prayer and Word – David Darling
Remember from the ember
25 June 2017
Grant me strides
To edge of morrows
Taking sides
No option
In mind the heart’s adoption
A play of two rides
The moon spills
Honey of the thought
We forgot
In token
The chime of heart awoken
From remorseless spells
Delve in wells
Bathe in the red glow
Blaze to show
Under snow
Remember from the ember
Of seeds that we sow
Reading of the poem:
Bindweed above the water – Stive Morgan
Elevation Time
25 February 2017
Transfixed deer
In headlights of fear
Stillness thought
Unsafe spot
The moving shadows cover
Limits of my heart
We restart
Engine of heartpath
Through stillness
In Oneness
Quantifying bliss in zest
Of Orange’s crest
Orange edge
Round and soft like sledge
Unmoving
Endearing
Thoughts of water reviving
Taste of tangerine
Bluest spleen
When the songs hit a low tone
Undone words
Miscarried
The moon that the sun married
In the twilight zone
Sun moon shone
Within daylit skies
Undone lies
Shimmering
In Ttruth we find our best gear
Loss of fear now clear
Straightened spine
Warding off remains
Reddened stains
Slowly wanes
The Blue that shifted purple
Elevation Time
Reading of the poem:
Satori – Riley Lee and Gabriel Lee
The bitter taste of Orange
21 February 2017
They lived in a small house by the sea and when the weather was not harsh he would go out with their small boat to get some fish for their meal., else they would have to rely on the barley porridge that Estelle made. The barley was bought thanks to the latest catch Bart had made and that he had sold at the village earning him some sacks of barley. Estelle, his wife, always thought that the barley was better because wheat tented to get musty in their small house by the seashore.
When Bart was not fishing either because the weather was bad or because the catch would not be good, Estelle stayed at home knitting. All of Bart’s sweaters had been made by her and she had even started making him full jumpers.
In the twenty years that they had been married they had never quarreled once. It was not that they got on well about everything but simply that Estelle had quietly said “Well of course dear Bart you are right. I am so sorry that I did not understand it right the first time over”. In the early years of their marriage Bart had thought her to be giving in out of love for him and then slowly started suspecting that he may be simply superior to her mentally. While this thought tickled his ego and made him sometimes want to stray away and find a girl who would be more his intellectual equal, the long time passed with Estelle made it impossible for him to even draft such a plan.
Estelle made an excellent marmalade of the oranges that grew in the orchard around the house. It was really strange to see oranges growing so close to the sea but Estelle had her way with nature and from the fist orange tree that she had succeeded in planting during their first wedding year, there were now more than 40 orange trees growing around the little house.
The best days were when Bart could get the fish and Estelle could make one of her special “Coulis” with the same oranges except that the taste was not at all like the marmalade she made but rather like some delicious soup-like sauce she used as dressing with some herbs to go together with the fish.
In all the years they had lived together, Estelle had expressed only one desire and that was to float in the sea as she did not know how to swim and he was not sure whether he could help her swim at the coast as that is where the waves were the roughest. He kept thinking to himself that he could surely do it one day when he did not have to attend to the catch as she would have taken up the space useful for the catch and made them lose money if he had given in to her desire.
One day, coming back from his usual fishing trip he found Estelle her face resting on one palm and her other on the table. In front of her there were oranges that she had seemed to be cutting when she had died all of a sudden. He carried her in his arms overcome with grief and lay her on the bed. He was thirsty from the day’s toil so thought he should drink something before dealing with the situation. He seized some of the oranges and swallowed them but their taste was extremely bitter and had nothing to do with either the coulis nor the marmalade that Estelle had made for them.
Bart went back to Estelle and wondered what to do. He knew he could not just bury her like anyone else. He cried with anguish at the thought that he had never fulfilled her desire of floating in the sea. His mind then made, he called for the local priest to bless Estelle. When that was done, he rowed to the farthest point of their coast where the sea met the delta and put her body in the water. He thought that she looked too beautiful to die. He wept in grief at the way the orange strands of her hair spread out in the water.
They say he must have got lost in the tempest that ensued because he never came back after her sea burial. Some say, he chose to go with her because living without her was meaningless for him.
The oranges in the orchard still grow and the women from the village come and pick them freely and somehow, they always have a unique taste for each marmalade made. The oranges which are strangely extremely bitter when eaten naturally make a heavenly marmalade when the right quantity of sugar is added. The orchard lives on….
Reading of the story:
Pink Orange by Instinct Primitif/ Intidhar Kammarti
Reviving heartbeat
26 December 2016
Paint my lids
A streak of teardrop
On backdrop
Of laughter
Getting worse getting better
Changes unfettered
One o One
Metamorphosis
Lessons learnt
Pupils burnt
The eye a raging fire
Knowledge a pyre
Flame to grow
Prometheus dam
Holding back
Rivers rage
Wisdom for none to assuage
Aching of the sage
Shape my buds
To taste of honey
Flowing slow
From the flow
My chest now filled with the glow
Breaking point of seams
Riddled dreams
Orange tangerines
Bitter sweet
As I eat
Core and more through flowing streams
The memory gleams
Whistle low
Softening the blow
Drunken feet
Take to street
Where we strangers known will meet
Reviving heartbeat
Reading of the poem:
Letting Go – Nitin Sawhney
Homelands – Nitin Sawhney
Breathing Light – Nitin Sawhney
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