Sinecure
A mosquito on my hand; I smiled at her
She evaded my eyes and dug deep into my skin
‘zrrrrrrrrrr’! Sipped my blood without fear
Again I smiled; rather I did grin
This time she looked with dozy eyes at me
Laughed aloud and tried to take off,
Stumbled a bit and fumbled her way to the
Nearby chair and managed to cough
She looked around as if she is unable
To see anything and moved precariously
Towards the cabinet at the corner wall
Looked at the files and left my room lazily
Few weeks later, during my evening stroll
Along the side of a drainage channel
I found that mosquito and called her
“I haven’t seen you for too long! Gone where? ”
She looked aghast at me and after a long brood
Said, “By our mosquito-king’s decree
I never dared to come to your sinecure
The order said; never touch a Govt. servant’s blood”
poem by Sathya Narayana
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Mosquito
Un mosquito
Cest un moustique en colre
Un mosquito
Pique et pique et pique dans la chair
Un mosquito
a pond ses oeufs dans nous rivires
Un mosquito
a vit au milieu de ses frres... un mosquito
Un mosquito
a rve loin de nos rizires
Un mosquito
a prfre la chaleur
Un mosquito
a frappe la tte la premire
Un mosquito
a boit du sang chaud ordinaire... un mosquito
Et a cloque chaud
Mosquito
Chez les modestes et les beaux
Mosquito
a pique chaud
Mosquito
Chez les bonzs, les plots
Un mosquito
Cest un moustique qui galre
Un mosquito
Pique et pique et pique dans ta chair
Un mosquito
Cest un mchant hlicoptre
Un mosquito
a vit du sang chaud des baigneurs... un mosquito
Et a cloque chaud
Mosquito
Chez les gentils les salauds
Mosquito
Et a pique chaud
Mosquito
Mme le chiens et les oiseaux
Mosquito
Et a cloque chaud
Mosquito
Chez les modestes et les beaux
Mosquito
a pique chaud
Mosquito
Chez les bronzs, les plots
Mosquito
Et a cloque chaud
Mosquito
Chez les gentils les salauds
Mosquito
a pique chaud
Mosquito
Mme les chiens et les oiseaux
song performed by by Vanessa Paradis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Possible By Election And Effort
A mosquito is flying across my eyes,
A tiny mosquito which sits on the fruits,
I am trying to chase or snatch it,
But I am unable to catch it.
A person who cannot catch a mosquito,
How can he expect to fetch the government
to get the President post (or) FORT?
It is possible by election and EFFORT.
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gone young
I stopped for some minutes
Looked away from my scribbles, littered
Pieces of papers on the table and
A glass of water that fattens the thumb
Only time knows how long;
As I glazed through the window
At the orange sun
Hanging on the west side
Little Jamie was kicking football around
With the others
He was only five,
Bare, tiny mosquito legs
On tiny rocks, stones and silt
Dogs frolic around the corner
With their undefined business
After a moment in time
I turned back
At the future soccer mockery
Jamie was gone
Like the fading light in April
That was the last I saw him
My tiny, mosquito legged star player
News came few days later
Stray bullet went through him
As hot knife through butter;
My tiny mosquito legged player
With reverie and ambition
Fizzled like smoke in the wind
I remember you Jamie;
My mosquito legged star
Faded dreams
On rocks, stones and silt
On my scribbles and poetic rubbish
Fit for publication
Adieu!
poem by Chika Nwokeoma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Muscoviet Musquito
I must write a letter to you
I must make myself clear
It is spot on time, right on cue
I am a clam, somebody said to me
Its obscene, there must be a motive behind
Its obscure. there must be someone behind
A muscovite mosquito, a muscovite mosquito
A muscovite mosquito, a muscovite mosquito
A vivid image anyway
Someone said, youre a clam,
Consider this !
Mmm, listen oh, listen to me, youre far
A thousand miles away from here
I am here, I am here in this ooze through country
Trampled down by mega people
A dispute will never end
A retrospection ,it sounds obscene
A disconnection,
A final balance sheet for muscovite mosquito
For muscovite mosquito
For muscovite mosquito, it sound obscene
It sound so obscure, for muscovite mosquito
My final balance sheet is gone...... for
Muscovite mosquito, muscovite mosquito
Its spot on time, right on cue
You missed the chance, somebody vexedly said
Its obscene, there must be motives behind
Its obscure, there must be someone behind
song performed by by Xymox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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the Touch**********************1979
i looked up into the deep blue sky
little white clouds were floating by
i looked upon this young girls face
she held it down in disgrace.
i looked upon her cheeks so fair
she looked up to me to see if i care
i looked at her with content
and she knew right there it was heaven sent.
she smiled at me, and our eyes then touched
we knew then, it was much to much.
our hearts entwined and her lips met mine
we felt right there it was a love divine.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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And You Don’t Remember Me
I sat on the park bench
pen and notebook in hand.
I watched all the people
as they passed on by.
I wondered how in life
each one of them had fared
with their happiness
and their sorrows.
I looked for inspiration
for something to write.
She looked at me and smiled,
I smiled back
thinking that was that.
“You don’t remember me? ”
She said and sat down.
I looked at her again
as memories swirled
around in my mind.
She was right
I didn’t remember her
Her hair was mousey colour
with flecks of grey
starting to appear here and there.
There were thick lines
across her forehead,
crow feet lines
near the corners of her eyes.
The corners of her mouth
drooped just slightly.
Her blues eyes were striking
and I knew I had seen them before,
but they were with a younger face
a long time ago.
A face that lit up
whenever she spoke.
“You still don’t remember me? ”
She asked once again.
I shook my head,
but unfortunately, I did.
I could remember
all the beauty
she had had in her youth,
before time had ravaged her
and taken away her beauty
and her youth.
She looked so sad.
I wanted to reach out
like I always wanted to,
but something deep inside,
a little voice you could call it,
kept telling me no.
My urge to hold her
was trying to win out,
but I couldn’t do it.
She was no longer
a part of my life.
All she was now
was a memory I clung to,
a memory of my youth
so long, long ago.
With notebook and pen,
I smiled and bit her farewell.
I whispered her name
as I said a last goodbye.
I didn’t look back
or I would have looked back with regret.
She was a past,
something none of us can ever relive.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Eyes of Death
I looked into your eyes
Your Eyes of Death
I killed for those eyes to look into mine
Into my eyes of pain and guilt
I dared to walk into your path
I dared to take your hand into mine
And I dared to tell you my darkest secret
I stared into your Eyes of Death
And I lost my soul to them
When I looked into your Eyes of Death.
To this day, I am still dead
To this day, I can no longer live in the mortal world
To this day, we shall not die of fire, water, or love,
But of our Eyes of Death that rein our souls
I stare into your Eyes of Death and I cringe at the sight
I look into your Eyes of Death and I am no longer alive
I looked into your Eyes of Death
And I died again, before I could run from them
For I cannot stand to be around you to this very day again
I looked into your eyes
Your Eyes…of Death
poem by Jade DragonHeart
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wounded Soldier
I haven't got a name
I haven't got a name
No one even whispers in my ear
I may aswell be blind
Cos no one's ever looked in my eyes
And i don't really see the point in me been here
No ones ever held my hand
That i've felt love just from touch
No ones ever acknowledged me
Or liked me very much
I'm just a shadow
On the wall
Someone to get trampled on
And laughed at when they fall
I'm just a broken soul
An empty shell
How long have i got left?
How can you tell?
I haven't got a name
I haven't got a name
No one even whispers in my ear
poem by Lucy Vernezze
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Don't Believe You've Met My Baby
Last night, my tears they were fallin'
I went to bed so sad and blue
Then I had a dream of you
I dreamed I was strollin' in the evenin'
Underneath the harvest moon
I was thinkin' about you
And then you met me in the moonlight
The stars were shining in your eyes
But another was there too
I don't believe you've met my baby
You looked at her, you looked at me
I wondered who you were talkin' to
I shook the hand of your stranger
But I was shaking more inside
Cause I was still wonderin' who
Your arm was restin' on her shoulder
You smiled at her, she smiled at you
Her eyes were filled with victory
She said my brother wants to marry
And then my heart was filled with ease
I knew that you would marry me
Oh, I don't believe you've met my baby
You looked at her, you looked at me
I knew that you would marry me
I don't believe you've met my baby
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Came
You Came
I remained before you came
After your arrival I remain also
Ballie bloomed before you came
Crow used to cawing at dawn
The barking dog used to embrace me
As soon as I reached to it
Some feature after your arrival
But amongst this something differ
What is that something?
I asked it to a street boy-
He replied, how can I answer-
This footpath was bedroom of my grand father
That was before 1947
Grand father could not sleep because of British mosquito
My father’s expression was same
He was destroyed due to Pakistani mosquito
And what’s about-
The mosquito grew up socking blood of me
Grand father and father- Will let me off?
But I have heard, If this government
May come for next term-
Government will give us mosquito curtain each.
In the previous periods none gave this commitment.
If really I get the mosquito curtain
Then, like my life
Answer of your `something’ will get.
--0--
poem by Bongokobida Zakaria
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Triolet: Sacrifice
Mosquito you must die for me,
with one last hypodermic bite.
You have my blood and guarantee,
mosquito you must die for me.
I line you up and count to three,
goodNIGHT! to you, to me goodnight.
Mosquito you must die for me,
With one last hypodermic bite.
poem by Diane Hine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How To Kill
Under the parabola of a ball,
a child turning into a man,
I looked into the air too long.
The ball fell in my hand, it sang
in the closed fist: Open Open
Behold a gift designed to kill.
Now in my dial of glass appears
the soldier who is going to die.
He smiles, and moves about in ways
his mother knows, habits of his.
The wires touch his face: I cry
NOW. Death, like a familiar, hears
And look, has made a man of dust
of a man of flesh. This sorcery
I do. Being damned, I am amused
to see the centre of love diffused
and the wave of love travel into vacancy.
How easy it is to make a ghost.
The weightless mosquito touches
her tiny shadow on the stone,
and with how like, how infinite
a lightness, man and shadow meet.
They fuse. A shadow is a man
when the mosquito death approaches
poem by Keith Douglas
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A Girl From Nowhere
The electric blue of a lightning sky
lit up the country lane momentarily.
She walked alone
with her scarf blowing in the wind
and her clothes soaked from the light rain.
But who was she and where was she?
She did not know.
Her eyes scanned everything
looking for something she recognised.
There was nothing there and she kept walking.
A crack of thunder startled her.
She jumped and looked around.
Lights of a car lit up the hedgerows
as it raced towards her.
She moved to one side
to allow it to pass.
The driver braked abruptly
along side of her.
The passenger window
wound itself down.
The driver smiled
out from the interior of the car.
“Are you all right miss? ”
The voice was low and warm.
She felt immediately
that she could trust it.
She looked in with large innocent eyes.
“Can you help me?
I cannot remember who I am or where I am.
The passenger door swung open.
“I think you had better get in.”
Cautiously she moved towards the car.
She climbed onto the passenger seat
and closed the door.
She glanced across
at her Good Samaritan.
“Thank you.” She whispered
as the car purred and moved forwards.
“There is a Police Station
about five miles ahead.
I will take you there;
they should be able to help you.”
She looked at him
as the car raced through
the quickly darkening lane.
“Haven’t you got a handbag? ”
He asked glancing across at her.
“Handbag? What is that? ”
“Where you keep your personal possessions in.”
She looked at him with a questioning look;
it was as if he was talking a strange language.
“My name is Jim Middleton.”
He said in his low warm voice.
She looked at him again
as the hedge rows disappeared
and streetlights and buildings
began to appear.
Scattered at first,
then more and more
as they moved into the town.
He stopped outside the Police Station.
He smiled. “We are here.”
Switching off the engine, he opened the door
and walked around the car.
He opened the door
to escort her into the station.
He stood mouth opened.
She was not there.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Chair
We sat at the table talking
when we noticed from the corner of our eyes
the door seemed to open and close again.
No one took much notice of it;
each thinking it was a draft that had caught it.
Then we watched amazed
as the chair at the far end of the room
began to move on its own.
Each time it caught our attention the chair stopped.
Turning back to our conversation
from the corner of our eyes,
we watched the chair move again.
Each time it inched closer
towards the table where we sat.
Our guests and we were hypnotised
by the spectacular of the moving chair.
We had lived here for many years
and nothing like this had ever happened before.
We all watched intently the chair
with not a word being spoken.
Whatever was moving it
could clearly not be seen.
Someone smiled and said,
“That is a neat trick you must tell us all
just how you’ve done it.”
I shook my head and replied,
“It is not us doing this.”
Faces paled at the thought
of the chair moving on its own.
The chair then stopped
and the outline of a figure appeared,
its eyes were flaming red
and it stared intently at us all.
“Who are you? ” Someone asked.
“Who do you wish I be? ” The reply came
from a voice that seemed to surround us.
You could see the fear begin to inherit everyone’s eyes
as the eyes of whatever looked around at everyone.
A crackling laughter then arose.
“Who are you? ” I asked,
“You are frightening everyone.
I tell you now you were not invited;
your presence is not welcome here.
Be gone I say, be gone and leave us in peace.”
The flaming eyes stared at me
as if to devour my soul.
Outside a lightning bolt struck,
its explosion made us jump.
When we looked back,
the chair was where it should be
and the flaming red eyes were gone.
Was this an hallucination
or did we really see a ghost.
Whatever, when we returned to talking,
we abandoned the conversation
of strange phenomena we were discussing
before our encounter.
15 November 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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x15-I Saw My Death
-Jane Spencers-
My grave has kept away my secrets.
The leaves are greener, the grasses-taller.
I heard you talking to me
with your solemn tears...
you didn't have to say you're sorry
for taking away my cheers;
for taking away my lover...
for making it all over.
Coz it's not the reason why i died...
as this empty earth has always denied.
The petals had fallen, the waters had flowed...
leaves are greener, grasses standing on the ground.
I saw my death when I saw his face-
how it glowed when he looked at you deeply;
he looked at you the way he never did to me.
I saw my death when I saw his smile-
he smiled beyond his heart when
he smiled at you sweetly...
He smiled at you the way he never did to me.
I saw my death when he looked into my eyes,
and all i can see is my empty grave,
and all others are lies.
When he looked at me, but it's you he sees...
I never want to breath.
The day he said he loves you
was the day I saw my death.
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Benitez
Mosquito,
Of the blood-sucker insect very common in Africa! !
And the after effects of the mosquito bits had led many to death;
But where is the City of Love for us in Africa?
Benitez my friend,
It is just like the days of the flood;
But when one prophecy is fulfilled,
Only a few are aware of it.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Shelly Looked at Me and Smiled
No chirpy birds were singing,
No flowers were in bloom,
But the sun nonetheless was pleasing
On that warm September noon.
It was the time of innocence,
Nay, more of wild abandon,
And youthful hearts were prone
To early pricks of Cupid's arrow.
—T'was on that warm September
Shelly looked at me and smiled.
Her hair fell down in glorious waves
That danced along the wind;
They compliment those eyes,
So full of charm and mystery.
A boy can't help but be spellbound
If once caught unaware,
And on that mesmerizing smile,
He'd chance a foolish stare.
—I risked a stare, lo and behold,
Shelly looked at me and smiled.
Perhaps it was September warmth,
Or blame it on my youth,
But by some stupid valor,
I walked steadfastly then stood
In front of her to give
Three crimson roses which expressed
My heart's content; she silently accepted
‘Fore she left.
—A couple paces past when
Shelly looked at me and smiled.
But that was then, how swift time flies,
Many a decade hence;
The corners of my eyes now creased
By years of decadence.
Yet looking back among my faded,
Yellowed memories,
That warm September noon stands out
With so much prejudice.
—At least, even just once then,
Shelley looked at me and smiled
A Mosquito....
a mosquito bites my toe
but i am busy looking at the stars
let it bite suck some of my blood,
let its thirst be quenched and let it go away
and breed and live in the places of the heart
let there be no dots and dashes
and commas and periods
a semicolon may even destroy the existence of
my colon
my hands do not strike a mosquito
they are my pillows my maps of destinations
my fingers my words
let not that mosquito see the giants
we're not
let it live and find its gods
we're not
we're just here as the outpouring of our rain
as factual mountains
we are ' living trying to distinguish
creativity from self-destruction'
who placed us there is never our wish
who put our names is never our command
we are but landslides of our weaknesses
slips of our rashness
morning soliloquy
evening's parting words
if we have harmed your transparent wings
must you forgive and define for once what could be worst than worse?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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New Year's Baby (Lullaby)
When I first saw you you looked alien
Like someone in mid-dance
Like a little old man
When you first held me in your tiny grip
You seemed just like Popeye
with your cap and your squint
Chorus:
Shall we sail away with bluebirds and clear skies
No frowns today just smiles that will brighten our way
And I'll take this old man by the hand
To begin again
To begin again
When I first looked into eyes like mine
I wondered what I'd learn
to see through them in time
When you first smiled with your toothless grin
You broke my heart open
all the flood gates rushed in
Chorus
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper from Merry Christmas... Have A Nice Life
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Rose Fairy
When God created the very first rose,
All the forest fairies were thrilled!
They formed a queue to line up for a smell,
Each swooning at its delightful fragrance.
The king of the fairies called them to his throne,
Reminding them that each flower is blessed,
With each one appointed its own fairy...
But who could they choose for the rose! ?
All the fairies not yet appointed flew near,
Each pointing to herself as the right choice!
Then the queen of the fairies calmed them down,
'Settle down, impetuous ones! ' she said...
So all the female fairies flapped their wings no more,
Settling once again upon the ground...
'Come, come! ' she scolded! 'None of you will do! '
The fairies' faces went blood red with shame!
The king looked at them in turn, loving them all.
Such enthusiasm, such devotion, but who would do?
The queen pointed directly to the king himself!
'You, Your Majesty, you must be the rose fairy! '
'What! ? ' remarked the king! 'That's unheard of! '
She held his hand with love and told him,
'There's no-one greater than you for this rose! '
The fairies leapt with joy! Flying here and there!
Doing athletics flips and backward somersaults!
When the king saw the joy of all the fairies, he smiled.
He was humbled by this wondrous spectacle
And he stood up, wiped away a tiny tear and told them,
'Never has a king been so blessed as I feel today! '
And so it was that the rose fairy was announced.
And God looked down upon the fairies in the forest
And smiled... and smiled... and smiled...
Denis Martindale, copyright, June 2012.
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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