Tag: Prose

Sometimes by Robin Bliss

Sometimes, When the sun has just set. The clouds still reflect colours, Orange and red glowing bright. Behind them the endless turquoise sky. I feel that I can see forever and ever. Touching the eternity within. Longing to fly on gossamer wings, Soaring gliding at my will. The happiness of eternity glows within, And I… Continue reading Sometimes by Robin Bliss

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Amuse: Singina likes my tales

“I remember your funny and lovely tales,” she yawned “You complete my day with those poems of yours!” At first I wasn’t sure of what I did right exactly, But as a shepherd I find pleasure writing about life, Telling of my travel, of my long days and how it ends Now, tomorrow I shall… Continue reading Amuse: Singina likes my tales

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That Leap of Faith by Arunav Barua

Ever woke up scared, disoriented and not knowing where? Open your eyes and you’d see that the Sky’s still there Even the worst nightmare passes away with a little smile All that we need is a heart strong enough to withstand while The planet remains, its beauty intact, hidden in white pages That are real… Continue reading That Leap of Faith by Arunav Barua

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When the dark clouds come upon the clan
All grow dim, sobre and quiet
The stars are hidden from sight
But the dark cloak holds all down
The stars, the hopes and good dreams
The fireflies cast a minute light
On the stormy and windy night
The clouds bear a weird apparition
Confused at his very own face

When the days light come
The strange feelings of loneliness
Evaporates like dews upon the tree leaves
Birds wake to sing, gladly even with sweet voices
Multitudes of fluffy nightingales weigh down
The strong branches of the Teak and Gmelina
The sun rays are bright
Upon the clans stream waters
It glitters with pretty light
Hues of green, yellow and purple
Swaying dregs of falling dusts
Fall from long farm rakes
As they pull up the dried hay
The tree leaves are ever green
For the previous nights darkness
Took this beauty from mens vision
There is abundant joy and bewildment;
Astonishment come on the clans glare
The wheat fields are golden and pretty
The ears of grains waiting to be picked
Dancing happily to the beautiful day
The sun shines
The clouds blue
The birds play
On happy trees

Beautiful days are not come yet

Wake me up
With your tears
Of love and care
Let my consciousness comfort you

Wake me up
To plough the fields
To gather wheats
And see your smiles

Wake me up
Even when I’m strengthless
To feel the airs
Come from the mountain

Wake me up
Draw back the curtains
Let the Golden Sun
Come shining into the room

Wake me up
To tell the world
About your love
And how it changed me

Wake me up
To the falling rains
To Heavenly desires
To Gods sweet grace

The Apple blossom and turn red
Before now the Pines tell her
‘You are not what we think you are’
For then she was green and young
And when the wind blew around
The forest side, she swerved about
Like a tree leave upon a branch
‘I will blossom some day, you know’
She would say and always chuckle
Blushing in grave but absolute innocency
And in deep shyness she would look away
But these Pines would always look to her
Trying to see a fault, two or more
But the Summer will ripen all
And the grapes would never be the same again

2
When Summer arrives with her smiles
And the wheat fields glitter gold
As the clouds turn blue and white
And the Suns heat wake from her slumber
Painting the Earth with awesome hues
And all about the farm, joy and gladness
Awaken warm apparitions of love
Sweet memories of nice wine tasting
And the horse rides across the beach
The camp at the bush of hares
And the gathering of sour-sops
Summer comes taking the coldness
Upon the Earth and off peoples hearts

I am writing to you
Cos of the pain in my heart
The distance we created
For nothing sake

But I am pained
Though you see it not
Love hurts a lot
But it has its worth

But remember…
I will be pleased
Only when I see you smile
Only when I see your grin
And the little chuckle you do
All that brings pleasure to you
I desire to give
That’s all about loving

Once, deep in the heart of the hamlet
A terror strikes in the dead of the night
Tears, blood trails, and fresh paw marks

After the moonlight comes a deep roar
From the forests that live with the hamlet
A terror descends upon the quietness
Two small balls of light ravage the village
In the pitch darkness of a moonless night
Scaling the thatch fencing and in a “Maah!”
Giant goats and cattle get missing
The dogs bark angrily and fearfully
They can only bark; the beast believed
A snarl and the dog park scatter out
And in the morning people go about
Counting the loss and growing goose pimples
And staring at the disturbed garden plants
At the back yards of unfortunate victims
The children hide behind their parents
Trying to fit their foot to the paw marks
The dogs sit like bewitched hounds
Staring at the mess the visitor brought

Back in the deepest forests of forests
The deadly beast of the night stalks
Under the bushes that are made dark
By the trees that shield the forest
Waiting for instruction, a guide
The evil that men learn, strange cruelty
The spirits of men transferred to a beast
And in such grim circumstance,
There is no mercy, no pity
There is no fear of man or attitude
For once, the spirit of a man
Is transferred to a beast
Havoc unknown to time is born

Commentary
It has been known that in ancient times, some people are capable of turning to wild animals like the hyena, leopard, lions, and snakes to attack or take revenge on other people. When two occultic families engage in a dispute, most times they settle with such a fight, one is turning to a wild animal to attack another. Also, these people are a cabal of “medicine men” that can conjure men’s spirits into an animal, thereby allowing the animal to act on behalf of the man. If the animal is wounded or shot, it affects the man whose spirit it carries. To read more about this, you might like to read The Bottled Leopard by Ike Chukwuemeka, a heart touching and fascinating story of a young boy whose spirit was tied to a leopard without the knowledge of their family and his pains, adventures, and ordeal in the new school he happened to be admitted to.

The poet tries to paint a picture of such an atmosphere. This poem is by no means occultic. It is purely my imagination.
Oke- Iroegbu

There was a land far, far away
Told to have been located by the bay
The day wake with good tidings and bird twittering
The wings of the Falcon flap above the hidden squirrels
The skies clear with print of dark blue
One of grace and light bright hue
The trees tall as the mountain tops
With leaves, succulent and fresh
The airs are full of misty perfumes
With elves hovering in the quietness
And hogs munching away at the young trees
The fairies guide the Crystal stones
The ancient gems so strongly kept

A young deer marched about
Confused on the smell calmly simmering about the air
The Southern wind full of elements
Made to keep the woodlands, villain and the fair…

to be continued