The jackfruit and the flies
One day in summer
We were eating a jackfruit
Suddenly some flies
Smelling odor from somewhere
Came as the unwanted guests.
poem by Asif Andalib
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Unwanted Guests
A mansion is built.
And unwanted guests,
Are reported to reside inside.
And there are those who claim,
This was not known.
Even though the unwanted guests,
Entertained, prepared the meals...
As well as took suggestions as to what to serve,
For choices of dessert.
And...
Tucked them all in bed at night!
To then leave,
On their own...
To wander freely around the mansion!
And yet,
It has been declared...
The guests who wandered freely around the mansion,
Were unwanted.
AND...
No one will admit,
They knew a mansion existed.
Nor have a clue who built it,
Or 'how' it got there.
I live on a fixed income.
And my every move is watched.
Even my approach to await a coming bus,
At a public bustop...
Is monitored as suspicious.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ode to Odor
Oh, odor...
From where does thou cometh.
With your abrupt pungentness?
To lay so distinctly...
In once fresh air!
And...
Upon unexpecting noses,
With such effective attention...
You have manage to get and be given,
In a suspecting collectiveness.
Oh oh odor!
Fanning you...
Is a pointless act.
When you come to attack the senses...
There is a determination noticeably gained.
And the agony to breathe freely...
Is devoid of any patience!
Any...
That remains.
And so foolish are the aspects of retaliation.
Oh...
Odor!
You ought to go!
But where shall you go?
Odor...
You are so unwanted.
Since you came in through...
Closed doors and windows,
With that uninvited ooze...
You meant to leave.
It looks as if...
There is no choice but to wait,
Until you fade away!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Flies
The sweet pieces of a jackfruit –
As if the flies come from nowhere
In no time!
poem by Asif Andalib
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Old Memories
not all memories are as sweet as honey
you think about those that broke your heart into very
tiny sharp pieces
those that hurt the legs of the innocent
those that shatter the lives of other people
you want to forget all these
but they all come again
as unwanted guests
eating your food, your house they burn
your name reduced to ashes
and then when all of these are done
they go out
laughing and drunk with justice.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Alankar (Decor) -23
Some Sijo-poems
1 Mother-in-law
she is icecream in the start, her daughter-in-law to drool for more
But as hurting handlings step up the days mom-in-law turns wicked
Yet other way too with wicked daughters changing trend reaping crops
2 Prickly Summer
Hot summer, prickly heat, then? summer bite by ants and mites we cry
Conditioned air cooling-Cooled spaces for insects-unwanted guests
Infesters'paradise-if you are hearty be prickled a lot
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Unwanted
Unwanted again even as a freind.
No use for an old useless louse.
Unwanted and blamed for your breathtaking game,
of stress and demand which I've been slightly guilty at hand.
So Tired of all this remorse and unwanted guilt.
I can't take anymore why won't someone take my life to kill.
Unwanted and uneeded for years I have pleaded for something new.
Unwanted, unwated
where or when will I find a respondendt.
To just give me a chance for a bright glorious dance.
To let me know that I'm no longer a freak show.
To have and hold so victorious and bold.
Yet forever more I shall remain Unwanted.
poem by Michael McParland
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Unwanted Number
You should hear the things that they say about me
Theyre saying shes no better than she needed to be
They dont know that he was kind and strong and tender
And now Ill never be another unwanted number
Unwanted number
How can I tell them?
How can I express?
How it felt to step out of this life and into his embrace
How can I tell them?
How can I explain?
All the love that I never had I found in him
There may be a stain on the family name
And if my father was here I think I know who hed blame
Mama says that he just doesnt care to remember
And all he thinks of me is another unwanted number
Unwanted number
(how can I tell her?
How can I express?
How it felt when he came to my room
And helped me to undress
What can she tell me?
How can I believe
That she really didnt hear me cry
When he wouldnt leave? )
Theres a local game where they whisper my shame
They say he gave her his child
He wouldnt give her his name
They will torture me from january till september
And soon theres going to be another unwanted number
Unwanted number
Unwanted number
And I will give my love to another unwanted number
Unwanted number
Unwanted number
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waiting for the Summer
Warm Summer…
Bumblebee flies to the south
Hailed by the beautiful blossom orchid
Summer..oh Summer…
Awe grows on the way to the summer twilight..
Wish she could find the summer
Before she leaves the space
Forsake all Heavenly-Earth things
Summer..oh..Summer
poem by Dina Satika
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Like the Flies in Winter
like flies at the end of summer/we all slow down as age advances, as age, time and clocks advance/ the coming ocean of time/like London Bridges, we all fall down
Like flies in winter, near a cold white windowpane, who are slowing like molasses. Cold lonliness on one side/white paint chips on the other
Like flies in winter/flies in autumn, who are swimming throught the air in slow motion.
Not so much the flies of summer
godblessamen
like fireflies flickering in the end/we are here and we are gone,
we eventually burn out.
poem by Samuel Stuart Pennell
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The Guests
One by one, the guests arrive
The guests are coming through
The open-hearted many
The broken-hearted few
And no one knows where the night is going
And no one knows why the wine is flowing
Oh love I need you
I need you
I need you
I need you
Oh . . . I need you now
And those who dance, begin to dance
Those who weep begin
And welcome, welcome cries a voice
Let all my guests come in.
And no one knows where the night is going ...
And all go stumbling through that house
In lonely secrecy
Saying do reveal yourself
Or why has thou forsaken me?
And no one knows where the night is going ...
All at once the torches flare
The inner door flies open
One by one they enter there
In every style of passion
And no one knows where the night is going ...
And here they take their sweet repast
While house and grounds dissolve
And one by one the guests are cast
Beyond the garden wall
And no one knows where the night is going ...
Those who dance, begin to dance
Those who weep begin
Those who earnestly are lost
Are lost and lost again
And no one knows where the night is going ...
One by the guests arrive
The guests are coming through
The broken-hearted many
The open-hearted few
And no one knows where the night is going ...
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's Summer
It’s summer.
Dogs barking in closed cars.
It’s summer.
Blisters from your new sandals.
It’s summer.
Flabby asses eating their shorts.
It’s summer.
poem by Jane Brunton
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Suddenly
Orbison/melson
Suddenly, my heart stood still
Suddenly, the sight of you gave me a thrill
Suddenly
Suddenly, i see you everywhere
Suddenly, all at once i seem to care for you
Suddenly
So suddenly i found you
To think you were near all the time
I've often been around you
I don't know how i could have been so blind
Suddenly, my world is new
Suddenly, suddenly there's only you
Suddenly
So suddenly i found you
To think you were near all the time
I've often been around you
I don't know how i could have been so blind
Suddenly, suddenly you're my dream come true
Suddenly, suddenly there's only you
So suddenly
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forehead of the Rose
Despite the open window in the room of long absence, the odor of the rose is still linked with the
breath that was there. Once again we are without previous experience, newcomers, in love. The
rose! The field of its ways would dispel even the effrontery of death. No grating stands in the way.
Desire is alive, an ache in our vaporous foreheads.
One who walks the earth in its rains has nothing to fear from the thorn in places either finished or
unfriendly. But if he stops to commune with himself, woe! Pierced to the quick, he suddenly flies to
ashes, an archer reclaimed by beauty.
The Lamp of Freedom
Once married, the sons go to new nests
and their parents are unwanted guests.
People of a cult live
in nations different to give
their best; then why the ravaged Eelamites
put off the lamp of freedom in their chests? .
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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April Guest
Summer has arrived too early,
before I’ve even set the table.
It does not apologize. I offer it a drink,
a stack of magazines, but it’s in a
chatty mood, follows me to the kitchen
and warns about the perils of cutting
garlic and onions in full sunlight
tells me a joke about the slashed bagel
that rushed to the ER. I pretend
to laugh, suggest that summer
fold the napkins, count the spoons and forks
but it keeps talking, the noisiest time of the year
with all those raucous bar-be-cues and squealing kids,
acrobatics applauded by claps of thunder.
Perhaps another guest will ring the bell
dressed for April, keep summer company
watching pre-season baseball on TV?
Excuse me, I say, but I must whip the eggs
for the soufflé so it will rise just enough.
When I set the bowl aside, summer
warns me about covering food
to fend off the bugs and flies.
Enough. I order summer
to serve as my oven,
rush to save the ice-cubes
and dump them down my body
just as the rest of the guests begin to arrive.
poem by Barbara F. Lefcowitz
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Inspiration
Inspiration can't be seen.
I mean…you can only feel it.
Your wit won't help a bit
So that to convey the feelings,
To create a real art
That comes straight from the heart,
Like a holy writ recommit
God's gift and revelation.
How do I feel my inspiration?
It's not a certain motivation,
But only my emotions
And certain commotions.
Just the same in other words:
Inspiration is like birds or …
It is something very crazy,
Something very lazy,
Something weepy,
Something very sleepy,
Something very heavy
Or impossibly high.
This something
Becomes suddenly light,
Light as a cloud, and flies,
Flies, flies, flies, flies…
Up to the moment it dies.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 8th of September,2012
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Unwanted Food
Eating sausages needing more salt
Planes rumble from up above
Refrigerator does not work
Cooling is secondary for food
Eyes are huge when morsels come
Oblivious to words of warning
Songs emit when eating quickly
Joyful bliss, comments over bound
Listening to snap, crackle, and pop
Eating away, feeling explosive
Food plows inside, too much
Sounds make for unbalanced head
Legs crossed, poor feelings falling
Down, down, down the ground holds
The butt, hitting rock bottom
And the meal bleeds out the body
Showing the food feels unwanted
Never wanted to be eaten again
poem by Russell Sivey
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The Wind, One Brilliant Day
The wind, one brilliant day, called
to my soul with an odor of jasmine.
'In return for the odor of my jasmine,
I'd like all the odor of your roses.'
'I have no roses; all the flowers
in my garden are dead.'
'Well then, I'll take the withered petals
and the yellow leaves and the waters of the fountain.'
the wind left. And I wept. And I said to myself:
'What have you done with the garden that was entrusted to you?'
poem by Antonio Machado
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Who Could Wish For Anything More
Candle
For the light.
Wine
For the drinking
Chocolates
For the eating
Flowers
For the smelling
Lips
For the kissing
Who could wish
For anything more
29 June 2007
poem by David Harris
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A Guide to Eating Meat
Eating a little beef
Could cause a Hindu grief,
Eating too much chicken
Can make a person sicken,
Eating lots of lamb
Is preferable to Spam,
Eating a leg of pork
Won't make the neighbours talk,
But eating Mum and Dad
Is DEFINITELY BAD! !
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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