Dec 20, 2010

Imperfect Guitar, A.Parmessur

The Imperfect Guitar

By Amit Parmessur

Sitting on the wild rocks I marvel at the periwinkle,
fully forlorn in the nearby receding tide pool.

The whistling of the dry coconut leaves in the wind
has been accompanying my pregnant thoughts of you,
with the large and strenuous pelicans surveying the sky,
right above my bewildered head—

I have never ever thought you would leave the
land of our bond and ships would become my enemies
How dare that elderly ship steal you from me,
making my eyes scarlet in the indifferent crowd.

Sitting on the rocks with my wild guitar I
sing sweet songs of your improbable return, sometimes
dreaming of you dancing, dancing lithely in a ring
of violets, with frisking lambs, piping shepherds.

This evening I have broken a string
as my fingers are a bit too drenched in anger. I close

my eyes and imagine of you sleeping
on a bed of daisies in our favorite valley over there.

I secretly cut a hair from your peaceful head,
fixing it in my excessively grieving guitar.

I start playing again but the other remaining strings
cannot be as melodious as your versatile holy hair,
rendering my guitar uselessly imperfect.

When I open my briny and heavy eyes,
the tranquil sea surface has turned orange,
the sand is a stretch of yellow lawn
and the periwinkle is gone,
leaving the tide pool as good as a forlorn desert. I go

home like a doomed crab destined for a too salty soup.

Snow Falls, M.McCoy

Snow Falls

By Meridith McCoy

Here comes the snow. The first of the year. Clean and white like virginity. Before the salt comes in and violates it, making gray sludge. But it will snow again. And be pure. A second chance.

To Dad...G.Nedelka

To Dad: When December Falls

By Graham Nedelka

"good bye, it's the end of the road"
what a pretty song, my love.
stood there with metal
in your palm
colder than the snow
you caught on your tongue
i did too.
the sun will shine tomorrow
somewhere without you.
it is the warmth the winter
left behind to remind me
how the world turns again.
it is the green grass where
you took a long nap that
watch it glisten from above
upon the lake
the water cooled
your ashes,
ceased your pain.
watch your son shine
and swim with you too.
I would have carried you
when december fell.

Candles, E.Jakpa


By Emmanuel Jakpa

glow in the small glasses
on the tables,

yellow lights
pours out the chandeliers,

"Lady in Red"

on the air.

I empty my coffee,
and step out

to the lazy
snow drops, falling

lightly down.

is no wind.

The trees
are all drooping

with the weight
of the weightless snow.

No birds
in sight,

but I hear
a few chirps

as if from inside

Birds, H.Freads


By Heinrick Freads

Every bird has wings, but not all birds can fly
The blind have eyes that cannot see
Sort of like drinking decaf