This is one of my few attempts at writing a free-verse poetry. I had been itching to write something on the topic of painful but unerasable memories for a while. But when I finally sat down to write, I just couldn't think of an appropriate line to start with to give the poem a rhyming form. Hence, I decided to go for free-verse. I welcome suggestions from all the readers of this piece; anybody who...

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I feel time passing like nails on my skin

Piercing, commanding, but ephemeral

It floats by while I'm left to singe within

Nursing echoes that ring true like spells

 

Against the auroral skies my head bows down

But never hangs heavy

Evergreen vinyls, abandoned hometown

You still lurk in the shadows of my periphery

 

I see you when my hands cradle my head

And when I'...

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Saudade is a feeling that resists translation. Words like homesickness or wanderlust
capture fragments of it, but never the whole. This poem reaches towards the untranslatable:
the unique fusion of longing and loss, of sorrow and tenderness, of absence and living
memory. A sentiment so layered and elusive that it can only ever be approached, never
fully contained.

It is the echo of a song
...

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The bright blue sky: a memory

Of our infancy, bathed in light.

In a cloudless recollection,

We dare to revisit those days,

When, brim full of freedom from care,

We ran and pedalled like the wind,

Unfazed, it seems, on our stick legs,

Licking clean our knocks and grazes.

Old snaps solidify our smiles.

This lost land of the all-possible

Soon dimmed its way to school and...

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At the recent meeting with the German chancellor, dumb Donny Trump didn't know what D-Day was and is. Perhaps someone will inform him about history outside the USA, especially if the USA once played a decisive role in the victory over Nazi Germany.

One day past eighty years, the beaches breathe The grit of those who stormed the world awake. Steel met the tide; beneath the cliff and heat...

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It is through events and at gatherings

That the meaning of time is understood.

As we pack together in a huddle,

Time passes us by and yet it connects

And joins us as one, like links in a chain,

When we combine, as indistinct as rain.

 

Sixty years ago, I was in a crowd,

Some of whom were there sixty years before;

This summer I see some with years ahead.

This cycle con...

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This poem, Farewell to the Presence, draws clear inspiration from one of Sir Walter Raleigh’s poems. Echoing Raleigh’s elegiac tone and careful rhythm, it tries to explore the quiet desolation of personal loss and abandonment in contemporary life. Instead of the grandeur of a royal court or the isolation of the sea, the poem dwells on the intimate emptiness left behind in familiar space...

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Eighty years ago, Buchenwald concentration camp was liberated, revealing the horrific suffering endured by thousands of victims. Under brutal Nazi rule, countless lives were lost to violence, starvation, and forced labor. The liberation marked both an end to this chapter of terror and a solemn reminder of the depths of human cruelty. 

Eighty springs have bloomed and gone, Since gates wer...

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They call it strange—this habit of speaking aloud, to oneself, thinking alone, and questioning everything. But science has spoken: those who talk to themselves sharpen their minds, embrace chaos, and thrive on challenge. This poem is a tribute to the self-speakers, the deep thinkers, the quiet geniuses who refuse to silence their brilliance.
 

They point, they whisper, they call it absurd—
Ye...

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Even if it’s me
The cause and effect
Of this love that burns endlessly
And in the end, dissolves within me

Even if it’s me
The shadow that waits for you
In the randomness of late hours
On empty streets where memory falls

It doesn’t matter what they say
Or what they think of us
What is love if not the pain
That inhabits what makes us alone?

Even if it’s me
The one who gets lost,
...

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Life is solid, made of earth and stone,
of roots that sink deep into the silence of the soil.
Each step, an echo in the field of time,
each breath, a reminder that we are (in)finite.
There is strength in the winds we cannot see
and in the falling leaves that fear not the winter.
Love is not fleeting, but like the rock,
firm, built in the fissures of being.
And when the sky closes,
when th...

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Like the first mirror reflects whats before it
I live in the past 
Anchored by my commitments
I failed to take that class

The angle of time constricts at a point
Silent in its steps despite how vast
Ranging millenia little by little 
The promise is a lie you can not outlast 

Through the scope I inspect my thought 
Regret is not the word because I have made peace
Feel the grip of anxi...

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A moment in time did happen once.

                It was there and then it was no more!

Like a fickle wind that took a chance,

                To raise a head, but was gone before!

 

I would mull often in vacant times.

                If such a moment did occur awhile!

Or was it something without rhymes,

                As in the whimsies of a juvenile!

 

As ephemeral...

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A life had my thoughts, ephemeral and bright!

Coursing thru’ the skies, in a shimmering light.

                    And time reached out, in a glorious embrace;

                    Rushing me breathless, through empty space.

When the memories came, unbidden but true;

From the nether mind the feelings broke thru’.

                    Some moments to rejoice, some sharp agony.

  ...

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Five years ago flew by

Now, already remote

The rolling of the years

They’re already afloat

Your past self

Already a ghost

 

When you stand still

You begin to grieve your previous skins

Wonder why you had to forget and kill

Old personalities just to multiply new

So, you cling on to specific moments

Promise not to forget, you never will

 

But it is not uniqu...

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All those voices yet in my mind,

From the years I had left behind.

            Casting echoes in that room -

            Pulsing through the dusty gloom.

The floating dust catching the light,

Shivered with unknown disquiet!

            The echoes gathered to surround.

            They animated the space around.

People I loved, now lost with time,

Speaking thru' the years...

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I remember us in the tall
  of balconied condominiums over there.
I remember the seemingly rainbowy effect 
drawing us towards new clothes & music for sale
in exquisite gigantesque shopping malls, the
trust we will be hearing a hello, and have a nice
day tune from shop assistants at every shop door, 
where billboards above advertised albums by Beyonce, 
fragrances, and films, us becoming f...

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I didn’t always have these roots,

There were years that

My hands were kites

And anywhere I laid my head was my home.

And suitcases were not anomalous 

And freedom wasn’t a forced prayer in school.

 

I didn't always have these roots,

There were moments that

Spread across forever 

And made time stand still.

And what I could carry was always enough.

 

I didn't a...

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1941, the 22nd of June,

The sky with the rising moon,

At 4 in the early morning,

Without any warning,

When children peacefully slept,

Hitler the most horrible plan kept.

It was Sunday.
Today it’s the saddest day
In the history
Of my long-suffering country.


Hitler broke the non-aggression pact
And my motherland was attacked.
The Great Patriotic War had started
With a ...

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Moon eyed she goes 

She is one of the stars

Lonesome she is 

In the presence of Mars

 

Soon her reflection renews

She is a planetary part apart 

Memories become brand-new 

She is solo in this system 

 

And as the lights dim 

He becomes hers 

She sucks us in 

Until everything’s hers 

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What’s Your Name?

 

If I don’t come to say hello, please don’t take offence

It’s not because I’m being rude, it’s just because I’m dense

I’ve met you several times before but can’t recall your name

I know that we were introduced, damn my stupid brain

 

I’m feeling under pressure now, if you come over first

If you remember my name, that makes it even worse

I’m going throu...

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laughlines 

worn smooth by the babble

the chuckling familiar notes

then folded out once more 

like shared and scented laundry:

)avender sprigs; coffee tins

in high cupboards

used RVs

 

these textures live so close to me

a scrawl of shag carpets

finely raked

and gently oiled 

dutch paneling 

grasping lazily 

halfway up

half way

to the walls of chil...

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I am Misti--, didn't get it?
Misti(sweetness) is my name,
My grandmother gave me that
Honor, I'm too grateful.
I'm going to 8 months
This November soon,
My limbs are
Not properly working now,
As a little bird fears to fly
Into the sky, below the mountain,
I am quite like that: I can't
Hold my legs sticked to ground.
My voice is like the groaning
Of the cloud you can hear but
Not to d...

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My brothers existence fell into
broken fragments when they buried
him.

His worlds was always fragments.

Whisper.

Silence.

Frozen gaze.

Winter’s touch carried the gap
admist horizons.

Memories encircle memories
in the horizon.

I look at you. Where are
our footprints? Breathing
outward. Your lios inward

Here. There.

The darkness sculpts the sky’s
essence. Snow falls...

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The light embraces you
traversing the threshold
shedding mortail coil
across sapphire rivers in the breath,
wandering across the essence
grasping through words
behind a display panel
touching across your memory
in the vast expanse
of lifetimes
lost across starlight pathways,
reaching for the way home.

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From the subconscious mind,

Came a memory lost behind.

It reminded me of, gently then,

A music pure and fresh as rain.

 

I felt the tunes play in my soul.

The familiar melody to enthrall.

So long lost in the layers of time,

Heard it again - just as pristine!

 

Then back it went to nethermind.

A caressing whisper it left behind.

I felt it then - with some surpris...

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At age three 

I dreamed.

Of lands full of sweets.

Of an endless coloured street,

stretched as far as I could see.

I dreamed of my toys,

that entertained me with their noise.

I dreamed of everything and more.

I dreamed.

 

At age ten,

I heard.

About wondrous lands that decorated the earth.

Of all the plants and birds,

our Mother gave birth to.

I heard abo...

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Unknown reader, be glad that I have opened the door and let out

the dust of my verse for you to see an age after the words first found form on the screen, or

perhaps I have let in your imagination so, turning, you can see a single almond

blossom, pink amongst its pale russet leaves, to tempt your words out

 

Unknown traveller, on this day, stay, venture out

and, before they fade,...

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As I write, each line reaches for memories

lost, fallen beyond the edge of the world:

kamarupa dwelling in infinity, fading

 

when my lines do not find them

and my words fail passion and desire.

 

Eons, lost pasts. Which of them

could dream my frail dream of this

verse? Which, thrown

 

across the fabric of time, could make

nothing everything?

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I almost regret to write this poem

for fear it may vanish

flicker away like Evan's flame

scared of the voices

that murmurs that carry its name

across the wind

whispers of That

 

but it only lives for a little

hiding in plain sight

waiting to be noticed

so it may slip away

one more time

 

only to be invited back

by the warm, orange glow

of the everlas...

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there once was a boy

good-hearted and innocent

 

worried not about the 

flecks of mud

clinging to his toes

 

thinking not of the

stinging scrapes

kissing his knees

 

worried not

save for the dwindling daylight

bringing end

if only temporary

to his fun

 

there was once a man

chased by the sun

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I keep drowning
in the noise
Of
Others opinions
on how
To live my life
Their expectations
Only stress and scare me
If only I knew myself
Inside out
Through and through
If only I've finally become
Deaf and dumb
To this noise around
If only I can make
A decision
and swear on my integrity
That it's truly
Mine own
If only I stop
Striving to prove myself
to this world around......
...

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1
A story about
                an old poet
    and his cottage

2
A dream of an old mariner
                lost in Wales
    adrift on his words

3
A memory of
                a young boy
    on his maiden voyage

4
A memory of
                innocence
    lost at sea

5
A line on a chart
                between a girl
    and loneliness

6
A communion
               ...

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I think I found the chink in the armour,

I think I found your disguise,

I think I found what lies beneath,

The true character behind those eyes.

 

A slip of the tongue whets truth’s cruel form,

And shows me what had yet been unseen,

The wrong choice of word, adjective, verb,

Makes dirty what once had shone clean.

 

And with that mistake, a whole character shifts,

T...

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Do you ever just have tears fall down your eyes?

You have a memory suddenly flash and your heart begins to beat fast and before you know it you're back in the past 

You are wondering what did you do wrong to deserve all the pain from the one you loved 

You have done everything you can think of to get over the hurt 

You want more than anything to forget her voice, her hugs, her eyes, th...

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you call me skinnybones I hide in the girls' room
you yell through the window playground burrs
traveling from past days to now embed
and engender new thoughts flinging
new taunts back to the past

 

 

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Curry Crisps

In 1981 and 82 at Littlemoor School I was in Junior 4

With the rest of the little wankers who were my classmates

I used to buy curry flavoured crisps for 10p at break time

I got them every day and even now miss them  

They were the best crisps I ever tasted so yummy!

In a curry coloured packet oh what’s to come!

They were the highlight of my time in that school

...

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its all there, writ on vellum

engrossed by time and fate

scrolled as wayward history

marks each and every date

 

familiar names and their sins

revenants of thirsts unslaked

wild love that soon withered

or cakes that never got baked

 

scars and might have beens

guilts and nameless shame

glories and fleeting trophies

won from life's hectic game

 

of late,...

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*

time stopped after faces smiled--
squinting at square time-capsuled windows
books packed, amber remains to portray
slices of cryogenic experience

yellowed paper in brittle plastic sheathes
stare back at me-- voices call
to the nowhere places that are not
wishing, wondering, "what if?"
--look for some dimensional door

some resemble me too, horribly so
the mocker looks artificial,...

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Stay with me, I beg you
You’re all that I have left
My safest place
Greatly, I fear
That the more I think of you
The more you will fade from me
Like others that I could not keep 
You are all the spirit I have within me
My intangible dream
Without you
I would know nothing of hope
But
If the light you give 
Should be smothered into smoke
I would not fight the dark
Rather,
I would hav...

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A dip in the sand caught a pool of sea,
When the tide came in and went out again.
The pool of sea caught a ray of sun,
And it seemed like a star had been caught on Earth,
But a moment later all was gone.

A child ran forward to see what it was,
That shone so brightly from out of the dirt.
Little feet,
Kicking up sand,
Ran themselves through a dip in the ground.
And it seemed like the je...

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In the deserted island of my mind,

cotton candy memories float by,

followed by fog and bomber planes,

raining shrapnel of a painful past

and Nostradamus future. 

 

I am tempted to retreat, 

among the trees, 

where no one can find me. 

Give up my majestic seat 

on the sandy shores of time. 

 

Boldly I remain, 

sheltered in plain sight,

like a hermit crab,

...

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Your smile, your laughter was the light during the nighttime 

Your touch, The way your fingers would caress my soul 

Your voice , like soft melodies playing in my mind

Your time, if you had to say, it was well spent

Your life, was a gift; a small brown box draped in red ribbon 

our memories are embedded in my heart

I can feel it as if it were now. 

 

 

In memory of Chris...

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The mornings we spent laughing
with eggs and bacon
and cups of sweet tea
because we didn’t really
like coffee yet
and with flour on our faces
because we were making pancakes
and you decided to start a fight

These are some
of the warmest places
in my heart

It´s so sad
I can´t remember
what kind of tea you liked

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Nothing is more permanent than memory

Cast-iron files of pain locked in your head

The mind gets drawn back to errors and loss

Magnetised by things you should have said

 

Torturer is chief is villainous hindsight

Squatting by the guillotine with a smirk

Chewing over all those might-have-beens

In lost chances where grief and loss lurk

 

Even in dreams we face the angry ...

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In the ruins

Of my temple

My fireplace

Once in control

 

Reminiscing

My warmest kiss

In the arms of

My arsonist

 

To face new growth

Beyond pardon

The path across

Burning demons

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My Mother’s Kitchen

 

I’m in my mother’s kitchen

It’s a Monday afternoon

The oven’s heated up the air

The buns will be out soon

Everywhere there’s an aroma

Of cinnamon and spice

An apple pie sits on the table

I’m waiting for a slice

 

A black-leaded coal fire

Does it’s best to dominate

The heat and the smells

That the baking permeates

An old fridge hums...

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I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair. *
She’s so sweet and loving.

I’m good looking for a man of my age,
with handsome gray hair – what there is of it – 
that girls like to pat like they pat a pet dog.
I can’t wag my tail like a dog, 
but I can flash a sweet smile.

My wrinkles portray character 
and the wisdom that comes with age.
Skin cancers between wrinkles 
betray my time ...

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Darkest days

Be my brightest night

When I felt that sun glow touch

Emanate from your soft smile

 

Coldest wind be the

Torture of my skin

While your love seals me in

The violet of the dawning sky

 

The scarlet of the new sunrise

Is all I feel when you’re nearby…

 

Wait no…

This is but a memory…

 

Grab my heart and never let go

Do you remember that ...

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Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that...

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