Ode to the Beauty
Ode to the Beauty
Alone
she stood,
whistling her lungs,
perspiring,
bleeding,
against the hyenas licking tongues,
her only saviour
her shadow
had turned his back,
thousands of arrows
pierced
every inch of her body
and
the hunting
seemed unending....
They grew
more fierce
more poisonous
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poem by Mukesh Raval
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Whose house is this?
whose house is this?
silence crawls on night slowly like bugs
I stretch my limbs under warm woolen rugs,
a shrill cry of the moth and whistle of house cricket
dueling under my bed to have their accounts set,
The sound of feasting ants from a slit of wall
half sleepy I hear lover flea's invitation call,
two pigeons making love near ventilation hole
my existence feels affiliation with nature's whole,
a spark of the firefly in the black night
reminds a fall of star once shining bright,
a mosquito murmurs a secret in my ears
an expansion of universe my eager heart hears,
a house within the house within the house I live
mine is not mine this foolish mind can't believe
poem by Mukesh Raval
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Come Next Winter, Friends
COME NEXT WINTER, FRIENDS
I WILL WAIT WITH MY SON IN MY HANDS
FORGET NOT COMING TO MY LAND MY FRIENDS
WHEN THE WOODS BLOOM WITH FLOWERS OF SNOW
WHEN THE BOREAS BRING YOU HELL WITH BLOW
WHEN YOUR HEARTS CRAVE FOR WARMTH AND GLOW
FORGET NOT COMING TO MY LAND MY FRIENDS
I WILL WAIT WITH MY SON IN MY HANDS
YOU SHALL NEST IN A PASTURE NEW
CLOVER IS GREEN AND FOES ARE FEW
I WILL SHOW YOU SOME ETHEREAL VIEW
FORGET NOT COMING TO MY LAND MY FRIENDS
I WILL WAIT WITH MY SON IN MY HANDS
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poem by Mukesh Raval
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