I'm a temptress
I tempt tempests into my arms
Cunningly cunningly
Overburdened air I sing
Otherwise it'll blow up
I tempt tempo piano presto
The tip of my tongue hissing at tones
Cunningly cunningly
Overburdened sound I sing
Otherwise
The earth would be silent and empty
I tempt tempera into the colours
The paint now dripping sprinkles the walls
Cunningly cunningly
Overburdened stones I sing
Otherwise
Nothing would be built
2010.
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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A Woman's Choice
What did she miss the most?
Let's guess!
Did she miss his touch or his voice?
His fingers lovingly fingering
Or his tongue cunningly lingering?
Ah, THAT'S what she liked the best!
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Babel
Oh, God did cunningly, there at Babel -
Not mere tongues dividing, but soul from soul,
So that never again should men be able
To fashion one infinite, towering whole.
poem by Lola Ridge
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Causes nullify effects
Who spend lavishly
Would earn unscrupulously.
Who sell cheaply
Would employee mercilessly
Who draw people
Would pawn them cunningly.
They deserve no extra merit.
21.03.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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So from the mould
66
So from the mould
Scarlet and Gold
Many a Bulb will rise—
Hidden away, cunningly, From sagacious eyes.
So from Cocoon
Many a Worm
Leap so Highland gay,
Peasants like me,
Peasants like Thee
Gaze perplexedly!
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Ay, workman, make me a dream
Ay, workman, make me a dream,
A dream for my love.
Cunningly weave sunlight,
Breezes, and flowers.
Let it be of the cloth of meadows.
And -- good workman --
And let there be a man walking thereon.
poem by Stephen Crane
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Hypo Cause Hyper Destruction
supra strata lead astray
with the lack of knowledge
an overflow of tragedy takes
introfacial extra muscles
innermost unmuskedly naked
the remnants of strength
entropy fighting
(there are no holes my dear
except in the memories
the black holes talked about
in g nite nightmare stories
examples of bad parenting
or schooling tabula rasa
fulfillment just to б е emptied again
't was all in the head they said
there's no saying against that
and no coming over it too)
but the foe is alive
the bingo king of questions
hit against the wall
the wall fighting the shape of a home
(there are no houses my dear
unless modeled on a friend
with eyes like windows
and mouth made of door)
come in
eyes closed mouth shut
derision grin cunningly
don't slap it just forget it
and it'll be ok
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Art Encompassed
Michelangelo carved poetry
into purest marble
painted it across ceiling
of adorned Sistine Chapel.
Leonardo Da Vinci
cunningly imprisoned it
within magnetic eyes
of portrait Mona Lisa.
Vincent Van Gogh ground pigment
mixed fresco artistic paint
then splashed poetry upon heaven’s
eternal Starry Starry Night.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Rêve et Reveil
Warmth which with wonder, waking we
rediscover with the dawn,
is printed, coded cunningly
upon life’s sheets well worn.
Sustaining this intimacy
is reassurance sworn
in mutual acceptancy -
mosaic multi-modal form
where each is willing partner, free,
when new day’s lines are drawn
with or without consistency
as pleases strings untorn
vibrating with a harmony
which must not be foresworn.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Trance of Romance
A sapling in a severe drought
what she needs is moisture to survive?
The Ogre shows a goodwill and who crawls
to the scenario for the redress.
But she cannot uproot and how can she abandon
her kith and kin?
She has already mesmerized by his laudable dialects
and does she obey to this Monster? .
She dreams of the fertile soil where she goes to bear flowers
in the next summer.
She bow and stretch her springy hands
to this promiscuous lover
who takes her cunningly to the Utopia.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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So Very Subtle And Cunningly (Italian Sonnet)
So very subtle and so very cunningly
with eyes shining like that of a sprite
you crept into my heart during the night,
your smile, your eyes and personality,
your pure body enchanting came to me
and by gentle loving and not by might,
you did caused me to fall in love to write
of a creature that is mine, who is free
an angelic being that loves me more
with flaming passion full of blazing fire,
who makes me wanting to live and to die
as my heart is smitten just as before
and when at night we together do retire
I am blessed as in my arms you lie.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Boomerang
This piece of hardwood, cunningly shaped,
was curved so evenly while piccaninnies gaped
at a Warrior who chipped at it with pieces of flint,
and formed it by meticulous dint upon dint.
Outside his wurly he sat beside a tree,
and chipped at it patiently for hours - not for me,
but to kill the Wallaby in the rocky pass,
to kill the fat wild Turkey hiding in the grass.
poem by Rex Ingamells
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The shapely arms
One’s cleavage visible tempts men.
One’s legs exposed tempt men
One’s naval bare can tempt men.
But the bare, shapely arms excel them.
30.09.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Coral Island
His arms were round a chest of oaken wood,
It was clamped with brass and iron studs, and seemed
An awful weight. After a while he stood
And I stole near to him.—His white eyes gleamed
As he peeped secretly about; he laid
The oaken chest upon the ground, then drew
A great knife from his belt, and stuck the blade
Into the ground and dug. The clay soon flew
In all directions underneath a tree,
And when the hole was deep he put the box
Down there, and threw the clay back cunningly,
Stamping the ground quite flat; then like a fox
He crept among the trees.... I went next day
To dig the treasure up, but I lost my way.
poem by James Stephens
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Papyrus
Stripped, hammered, pressed the purposeful papyrus
Unaware of herself a would be goddess..
Saraswathi of this country
Moulded in forms of paper artistry
Formed of holy codices
Seated respectfully on Navarathri pooja
But
God's unaware of Satan slipped in
Denuding Saraswathi
Stripping out all Her holiness
Cunningly to be reported of dark prints
Yet Saraswathi grabs a grip of peace
Grappling with the betwixt white
Of the newspaper
poem by Indira Renganathan
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I sing (Nafaka)
I sing with the living the dead songs of the past
I sing with the deaд the people of the future
I sing with the black dawns and white nights
I sing with the cradles and the graves
I sing with the forgotten ones
With the innocents and the villains
I sing with my life
With my own disappearance
I sing
I sing
Until I cannot
Eternally unsung
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Lies are better
A truth averred cunningly
Harms more than lies invented.
A truth averred not entirely
Harms more than lies invented
15.01.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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An Elegy On Ben Jonson
WHO first reform'd our Stage with justest Lawes,
And was the first best Judge in his owne Cause?
Who (when his Actors trembled for Applause)
Could (with a noble Confidence) preferre
His owne, by right, to a whole Theater;
From Principles which he knew could not erre.
Who to his FABLE did his Persons fitt,
With all the Properties of Art and Witt,
And above all (that could bee Acted) writt.
Who publique Follies did to covert drive,
Which hee againe could cunningly retrive,
Leaving them no ground to rest on, and thrive.
Heere IONSON lies, whom had I nam'd before
In that one word alone, I had paid more
Then can be now, when plentie makes me poore.
poem by John Cleveland
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ME, In Your Eyes
Am I evil? Yes, I am.
I am the one can't be trusted,
I am the one who needs to be busted,
I am the one who causes trouble,
I am the one who has face that is doubled,
Am I evil? Yes, I am.
Am I evil? Yes, I am.
I always plan cunningly,
I always act deceivingly,
I always make you suffer,
I always deserve to face what's tougher,
Am I evil? Yes, I am.
Am I evil? Yes, I am.
I am the one who always ashames you,
I am the one who lacks satisfying you,
I am the one who struggles to be who,
I am the one who is lost in thou,
Am I evil? Yes, I am.
Am I evil? Yes, I am.
I never see good in you,
I never appreciate what you do,
I could never act as you want me to,
I am not as good as you want me to,
Am I evil? Yes, I am.
Am I evil? Yes, I am.
I never bless,
I make you live this freaking mess,
This is the only thing to confess,
I am evil in your pretty eyes…
Are Bankers a Curse to This Universe?
Bank men silently blackmail
Making the innocent sadly ail
Using the deadly transfer tool
They violate every moral rule
They will very cunningly cheat
But, will outwardly only greet
They will dangerously plot
Evil minds they have got
They are never at all honest
They will demolish safe nest
They will look very ordinary
But, will cause terrible worry
They are highly lazy people
With only negative principle
They will spread rumor
Just for fun and humor
Fully bad is their intention
Causing lot of terrific tension
They will never at all serve well
They only make India unwell.
poem by Mailrangam Visvanathan Venkataraman
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Discovery
When you are slightly drunk
Things are so close, so friendly.
The road asks to be walked upon,
The road rewards you for walking
With firm upward contact answering your downward contact
Like the pressure of a hand in yours.
You think - this studious balancing
Of right leg while left leg advances, of left while right,
How splendid
Like somebody-or-other-on-a-peak-in-Darien!
How cleverly that seat shapes the body of the girl who sits there.
How well, how skilfully that man there walks towards you,
Arms hanging, swinging, waiting.
You move the muscles of your cheeks,
How cunningly a smile responds.
And now you are actually speaking
Round sounding words
Magnificent
As that lady's hat!
Submitted by Stephen Fryer
poem by Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
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