Perception Poems
The clouds tell us stories
by Violet's Musings
“The clouds tell us stories,” Baba would say to him
As they sauntered through sunflowers fluttering in the wind
And he’d tilt his little head up and open his eyes wide
To the maestoso of the clouds, and the stories they held within
They spoke to him, and recited tales
Of dragons and giants and fairies and nymphs
Of Achilles and his gold and of Shiva and his bravery
And things were as smooth as the pallu of Ma’s new silk saree until
He started responding only to the misty blobs of ice up in the sky.
......
The World Outside My Window
by Bharati Nayak
This widow is my connection
To a world that lies beyond
My restricted space
With a glimpse of my eye
I can see the star studded sky
And also the wandering clouds when they float by
This is an expansion of me reaching high.
My horizon becomes broader
When I can see people ,known and unknown,
......
It Seems...
by Irene Salinas Caballero
I can only see clouds in the light of the day
and the stars appear only at night.
As my thoughts, in the wind, may get carried away,
I am left with my compromised sight.
I assume, beyond meadows, the resident rose
is left to survive among weeds:
appearing to suffer a bit through her woes,
fertile ground is quite all that she needs.
......
Mirror, Please Be Kind
by Injamam Eram
I usually avoid looking in the mirror,
As it reminds me of the duality that I nurture.
While my reflection constantly agonizes,
Here, I try hard to come off as gentle and composed.
I comb my hair, singing old songs, preparing to present myself to the world,
But in the reflection, I see my hair reaching down to my throat, wrapping around my neck, and then choking me,
Muting all the voices I want to make.
My eyes drip blood that flows right into my mouth, making me gallop in all my sadness,
And I selectively hide.
I am always short of words to explain my melancholy,
......
It Seems...
by Irene Salinas Caballero
I can only see clouds in the light of the day
and the stars appear only at night.
As my thoughts, in the wind, may get carried away,
I am left with my compromised sight.
I assume, beyond meadows, the resident rose
is left to survive among weeds:
appearing to suffer a bit through her woes,
fertile ground is quite all that she needs.
......
The World Outside My Window
by Bharati Nayak
This widow is my connection
To a world that lies beyond
My restricted space
With a glimpse of my eye
I can see the star studded sky
And also the wandering clouds when they float by
This is an expansion of me reaching high.
My horizon becomes broader
When I can see people ,known and unknown,
......
Mirror, Please Be Kind
by Injamam Eram
I usually avoid looking in the mirror,
As it reminds me of the duality that I nurture.
While my reflection constantly agonizes,
Here, I try hard to come off as gentle and composed.
I comb my hair, singing old songs, preparing to present myself to the world,
But in the reflection, I see my hair reaching down to my throat, wrapping around my neck, and then choking me,
Muting all the voices I want to make.
My eyes drip blood that flows right into my mouth, making me gallop in all my sadness,
And I selectively hide.
I am always short of words to explain my melancholy,
......
The clouds tell us stories
by Violet's Musings
“The clouds tell us stories,” Baba would say to him
As they sauntered through sunflowers fluttering in the wind
And he’d tilt his little head up and open his eyes wide
To the maestoso of the clouds, and the stories they held within
They spoke to him, and recited tales
Of dragons and giants and fairies and nymphs
Of Achilles and his gold and of Shiva and his bravery
And things were as smooth as the pallu of Ma’s new silk saree until
He started responding only to the misty blobs of ice up in the sky.
......
