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Good Man Bad Man

Do not call me a good man
based upon first impressions
because of a look in my eyes
because of compassion in my speech.

Do not call me a good man
because of a few words spoken
next to Adolf Hitler I am an angel
next to an angel I am Adolf Hitler.

Thus are discerned perspective's definitive scale
water is life source passive destruction active
a ripple a small wave perceived as motion beauty
a tsunami a mega tsunami surge slayer par merciless.

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Two Pewits

Under the after-sunset sky
Two pewits sport and cry,
More white than is the moon on high
Riding the dark surge silently;
More black than earth. Their cry
Is the one sound under the sky.
They alone move, now low, now high,
And merrily they cry
To the mischievous Spring sky,
Plunging earthward, tossing high,
Over the ghost who wonders why
So merrily they cry and fly,
Nor choose 'twixt earth and sky,
While the moon's quarter silently
Rides, and earth rests as silently.

poem by Edward Thomas
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Hand That Helps

Hand in hand you clap
Encourage others and solder you tap
Hand alone can be used for slap
In backward direction you step

Hand that build nation
Hand that develops relation
Hand that pulls the cart
And finally hands make you smart

Hand covers your eyes
Yet people look at and try
Hands that comes to rescue
Allow few people to view

Surge ahead with waving hand
Make all to follow and make friends
See to it that you are constant with trend
See the joy in life at the end

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Despaired

nothing is left to say,
the wandering cloud was bleeding
for white moon,

the elements, the purity, the ligaments
are fake, joints are festering
with fever on burntout resins;

the name floats in millions of veins,
tell me the fault line of tremors,
a mass burial was on way,

the surge of deadly intent
in this night of black spiders
in eternal pursuit of murder, unpalming

thousand hurts, poppies kissing the eyes
of ravaged shutters, locks broken
and ivory taken away

poem by Satish Verma
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Music

This shape without space,
This pattern without stuff,
This stream without dimension
Surrounds us, flows through us,
But leaves no mark.

This message without meaning,
These tears without eyes
This laughter without lips
Speaks to us but does not
Disclose its clue.

These waves without sea
Surge over us, smooth us.
These hands without fingers
Close-hold us, caress us.
These wings without birds
Strong-lift us, would carry us
If only the one thread broke.

[...] Read more

poem by Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
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Yellowstone Caldera 1834

Yellowstone caldera sudden shivers
Earthquakes follow, swallow soil that quivers,
Lifting expectations once again
Life hangs by hair 'spite prayer as joy and pain,
Open, close, day, night, rich land, sand, rivers
Will merge as lava surge destroys spleen livers.
Shakes and shudders fissures cause, park lain
Too long latent, dormant, well may rain
Outsize geyser skywards, dustbowl slivers,
Nova mushroom which itself delivers
Endless ice age blighting harvest grain.

(4 January 2009)

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Melancolía (Silva)

De todo lo velado,
tenue, lejana y misteriosa surge
vaga melancolía
que del ideal al cielo nos conduce.

He mirado reflejos de ese cielo
en la brillante lumbre
con que ahuyenta las sombras, la mirada
de sus ojos azules.

Leve cadena de oro
que una alma a otra alma con sus hilos une
oculta simpatía,
que en lo profundo de lo ignoto bulle,

y que en las realidades de la vida
se pierde y se consume
cual se pierde una gota de rocío
sobre las yerbas que el sepulcro cubren.

poem by Jose Asuncion Silva
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Mercurial Surge

Red-hot blood rushing
Throbbing and flushing
Through the arteries and veins
Around the flesh and bones
Piercing the heart, kidneys and genitals
Of a body made-up of mere clay

Life sings an unheard-poignant melody
May be written by the Oedipus
In the last days of his cursed life

Hormones, neurotransmitters and cytokines
All mixing with the lyrics
Of that unknown-ancient ballad
Psychedelic trances, visual hallucinations
And cocaine bugs

All pining for more
Mercurial surge

[...] Read more

poem by Dr Kamran Haider Bukhari
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What to Wear

Skin-close, stretched crimson,
to be gently peeled above my head,
with delicate finger quiver
down over exposed skin,
bumps spike with surge of endorphin,
trembles puctuate each cell,
your hand moves soft
over the heated swell.

Or black crepe, torn violent
to its shredded end,
rip-break of fabric,
no cloth spared, flung aside
with slap and throw,
a bomb onto the sheets,
rapid pulse-pump on the creases.

What choice relieves a passion's howl,
the red dress or the black?

poem by Sonja Broderick
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Transition

I feel the surge of changing tides
within my head like time divides
and left alone I feel I'll fall
away from those who hold me thrall
until one lacksadasic day
I chance upon a new made way
and travel far upon a path
that leaves me free from sad and wrath.

Alone as always here I stand
and gleam my eye and understand
the vortex of decision made
into the working psycho trade
away the trappings of this world
for visions-living, dying, pearled
and darkness happy to consume
for future living to resume.

poem by Poet Dragon
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