Quake

Pashupatinath Temple, Nepal

With a reeling head

We all throng

On the school compound

“Will there be another quake Ma’m?”

Asks a little angel

In a quaking voice

“What if there is?”

Quips another

Sounding like a rock

Or like the Temple of Pashupatinath

Without a scratch

Still standing tall

In the foothills

Of the Himalayas

Where Mount Everest

Is mourning deaths*

                     

*In the base camp of Mount Everest 18 mountaineers were killed in yesterday’s earthquake.

                      

Posted for Poetry Pantry @ PoetsUnited

Hunter

source

The lanky man with four pairs of eyes

(Two of course are glass made)

Is an ambush predator

He loves truth mimicry

You wouldn’t dream

How he has kept

His other six legs hidden somewhere

You better walk past him

Because once he spots you

The lines in his mouth

Begin to stir, tongue rolls

To form word web

You’ll be unwittingly ensnared

And your legs will get caught

In that subtle, silky spiral orb net

You will be a helpless immobile prey

His hidden legs will then show up

A beam will play about his mouth

Highly satisfied

Thinking his day’s not been wasted

He will make your mind numb

And slowly devour you

So be the last person

To pay heed to him

Politicians are crafty, beware!

 

Posted for the prompt Last Legs @ RealToads

A Lament

source

There is no Prince among the bees

Who would bravely fight the seas

And rescue the Southern Breeze

Whom the sea has held captive

So they sing their mournful song

To send to forest where flowers throng

Honeyed blooms can’t linger long

They fall to the ground with souls restive

 

We are the honey bees

Forgotten by the Southern Breeze

North Wind’s leading us astray

We have all lost our way

To your fragrant home

To fill our own honeycomb

 

 

*In the Sunderbans the honey bees are obstructed by the unfamiliar cold North Wind to proceed further into the forest. The bees take the help of the South Wind (still there’s no sign of it) rising from the Bay of Bengal to fly deep into the forest of The Sunderbans to collect honey.

Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Earth Day or Earthiness @ Poets United

Of Names

source

Su is good

And Man is mind

Sumana is then

The possessor

Of a good mind

Literal translation

Of my name in English

Sounds somewhat like that

I am content

And who would not be

If one can become

The chalice of a divine virtue

By the virtue of one’s name?

 

This is posted for Bjorn’s challenge @ RealToads: Take your name and use its meaning to create a poem.

A Kikobun*

Blazing summer with fire rain is knocking at the door in our part of the world. Sweltering heat will sap our soul. How would the words flow? Ah…we wait for you dearest Jasmine Nights…

 

Blooms of perfume made

Sing their song in fragrant words

Drooping souls listen

 

*Kikobun is a literary form similar in format to haibun 

Posted for Carpe Diem Time Machine #8,Perfume

&

Shared with Poetry Pantry @ Poets United

"feeling alone"

feeling alone

in the woods around Edo

just the autumn wind

(Yozakura)

The murmur of ginkgo trees*

My invigorating soul

 (Sumana)

 

*The ginkgo tree (Ginkgo biloba) is considered a living fossil. It has no known living relatives and has endured for millions of years. The ginkgo is one of 170 hibaku trees that survived the atomic blast of Hiroshima that took place in August 1945. Despite suffering extensive damage and predictions that nothing would grow for 75 years, the trees fully recovered. For this reason, ginkgo is attributed with being a symbol of endurance and vitality.

Posted for Carpe Diem Tan Renga Challenge # 81 Yozakura’s “feeling alone”

Forget-Me-Not

source

My soul awakens

To their mellifluous hue

Forget-me-not blooms

 

Forget-me-not blooms

In every cell of my blood

When I think of you

 

When I think of you

You whisper in petal voice

Forget-me-not Ma

 

Posted for Hannah’s hosting Transforming Fridays with Nature’s Wonders @ Real Toads