Poems: Ashvamegh: Issue I: February
Poems by Clark Cook
Read Poems by Clark Cook
MY MUSE
The sea-curve is calm tonight
icy silent, the waves asleep.
In the dark background
a half-round yellow moon
hugs
an indifferent horizon
with gentle possessiveness.
I can create these absorbing images,
perhaps soar to metaphoric heights
that enthrall you,
that satisfy me,
but we can never own them–
for shimmering always
on the far rim of time,
flaunting her skirts in casual swirl,
her smile even and assured
over the round of her naked shoulder,
my Muse fades
and fades
and fades
until she becomes a shadow
in the house of shadows
which I built.
I am never asked inside
though I’ve paid the mortgage
for years,
and always
right on time.
An Autumn Journey
He emerges from the dark earth
at the bottom of the walnut grove
the air still heavy with dew
mist low to the ground
obscuring the edge of the gravel path
leading up to the ancient oak door
His closed eyes pierce the murk
lightening now behind the tiled roofs,
steeples, and wisping chimneys
from the upper town
His search will begin on the rain-bright
cobbled lanes, always dark from the looming
houses that block the weak sun
Doors close. Windows slide shut. An eye
behind a cracked pane, a curtain-flutter
he knows they watch, trembling
he knows they wait, hoping . . . .
He finds her sitting on an iron bench
under an old tree in the village square,
her flowing white dress fanned out on yellow leaves
at her feet, her white skin glowing in the sun
He sits beside her, wrapping his cape to himself
They say nothing. They have never spoken.
She holds out an oaten cake wrapped in a leaf
he takes it and eats it and when he is done
he gets to his feet and gestures with his hand
and strides away down the lane
He leads her through the town to the oak door
and when he opens it and passes through
a low keening begins from the town, as though
from the very rocks and mortar and beams,
as though from the earth and grasses
and plants
Her white dress follows his black cape
down the narrow graveled path
through the enveloping walnut grove
until they dissolve into the dark earth
again and are gone.
Only the pale blue sash of her dress remains,
caught on the twisted root of a walnut tree, and
moving faintly in the light autumn breeze.
An introduction to the Poet Clark Cook
Clark Cook taught literature at Simon Fraser University and the University of Victoria (program for inmates, BC Penitentiary) and Communication at BC Polytechnic University. He retired as Head of his department at the Polytechnic. Clark’s poetry explores the vagaries of love, time, mystery, myth and legend, and the complexities of poetry itself. He feels that, whatever the intent of the poet, the best of poetry embodies Robert Creeley’s insight that Form is Never More than an Extension of Content. Clark’s poetry appears in four Anthologies–The Poetic Bond III (2013), The Bridge of Fates (2014), The Poetic Bond IV (2014), and Remember (2014). All these books are available on Amazon. Three more poems are featured in an ezine journal, The Greenwich Village Literary Review, vol I, no. 2 (2014) Go to https://thegreenwichvillageliteraryreview.wordpress.com/. About thirty earlier poems and a few stories can be found at http://moonfroth.hubpages.com.
Poems by Colin Jeffery
Poems by Colin Ian Jeffery
FREEDOM OF SPEECH
‘Je suis Charlie’
The pen is mightier than the sword
And they shall not subdue
Nor bend our knee to deny
Truth we enshrine within our hearts.
It is our human right to speak out
And have the right to question
Never accepting without examination
Claims by those who would silence us.
WILD HORSES
They race across the prairie
Stallion in the lead
Chasing the wind
Hooves sounding like thunder.
Prey animals of flight
Running from danger
Seeking somewhere safe
Hiding from predators.
They rest in a valley
Gathered together protecting foals
While the stallion stands guard
Ready to lead them away to safety.
Introduction to the Poet Colin Ian Jeffery
Colin Ian Jeffery (born 1942) is from Surrey, England. He is a prominent literary figure. His early life went through many deprivations. His poems are published in many anthologies, magazines and on many other platforms online.
Poems by Alicja Kuberska
It is She
We pass each other nearly every day,
Distance of fear between us.
Life forces us to mutual disregard and acceptance.
At times, like an unruly child, she will spoil something,
To garner attention, to arrest with a gesture.
I see her in the wind, which carelessly
Turns over the withering leaves
And standing proudly erect in stalks stiffened by frost.
She paints shrivelled trees grey, breaks limbs with a crack.
She is mute in the clenched throats of birds,
She stares with glassy eyes.
She is all-around and she reminds us of her presence.
She patiently explains the meaning of certainty.
I know she does not allow us to take anything,
When she plays the requiem and invites eternal sleep…
A Winning Lot
Life happened to me
With a gift of knowing the good with the bad.
I can capture fleeting thoughts
And stop time with a word.
The everyday delights
Bringing great mysteries,
Constant wonder is my lot.
I marvel how green are the leaves
And how many sounds
Are concealed in the throats of birds.
Exceptional chance
To examine the shapes and colors of clouds,
To feel the menace of lightning.
It is a pity to waste any minute
On senseless sorrows.
I have a one-way ticket!
Balcony Scene
She is a lone woman
Of average beauty, no longer young.
She is standing on the balcony
And watering the flowers.
For a moment, she is Juliet Capulet.
Only a cup of coffee and a novel about love
Are waiting for her.
He is single with a long life behind him.
He is sitting in the sun
And drinking whiskey with water.
Does he dream of models in fashion magazines?
Those passionate cats with eyes filled with promises!
They do not know each other.
Greetings are killed by the silence
Introduction to the Poet Alicja Kuberska:
Alicja Maria Kuberska (born 1960) is from Poland; she is a member of Polish Writers’ Associations in Warsaw, Poland. She is a renowned literary figure having her hands at poetry, novel and drama. She has published four volumes of poetry namely The Glass Reality; Analysis of Feelings; Moments; On The Border of Dream; and the novel Virtual Roses.
Poems by Leilanie Stewart
Poems by Leilanie Stewart
The Vacuum of Inner-space
Give them a bit of love;
otherwise
they’re just musty, fusty appliances.
Therefore
they are gathering mould and mildew.
Furthermore
sitting untouched, unneeded…
Sigh!
What is the sense
in being a one-hit
google wonder?
Abstraction
The time of the leaves is over;
the leaves are falling
off their tree.
They fall alone
sweeping a path
among the other withering souls
spiralling to their demise.
A few brave ones
dare to touch each other,
knowing it is their autumn;
knowing that while
on the surface, they care
ultimately, it is
a lonely journey!
Introduction to the poet Leilanie Stewart
Leilanie Stewart is a writer, poet and artist. Her works appeared in various magazines and A Model Archaeologist is her forth-coming book. She also runs creative writing workshops in London. She can be contacted at www.leilaeistewart.wordpress.com.
Poems by Ewa Zelenay
Poems by Ewa Zelenay
So Much of Him
So much of Him – everywhere
in the fluffy edelweiss leaves,
in a the sticky spruce cone,
in shiny squirrel eyes.
So much of Him around!
In dignity of grey granite,
in loud of mountain wind,
in sound glossy creeks
that so close to Him,
in high mountain passes
under spread clouds
in sunshine that blinds
You really feel Him…
And you bow down on your knees;
breathless and in shock!
That is nothing – only GOD.
Introduction to the Poet Ewa Zelenay:
Ewa Zelenay – poet, journalist, writer. Head Board member Polish Literates Union. Graduate in journalism and cultural research. Air and space are subjects for many of her poems. She spent many years in the sky – working Polish National Air Carrier LOT as flight attendant.
Poems by Richard Atwood
Poems by Richard Atwood
modern laurels, values
poetry is now a race of words, rash
of splattered frecklings, rage
intertwined with lack of reason, making
common sense illogical, justified
only to the editors, alien
this planet has never seen… while
whoops of siren-songs gleam wet
on ambulance darkened streets, under
impossible clouds, where the rain spits
down, keeps going and going and going
towards rainbows dreamed of, never
reached
we have come home: the vampires
staring us in the face on bookshelves
devoid of lions, buttercups, things we might
relate to. anymore it is all one’s guessing,
the game to play what goal? we totally
screwed it up, over and under… above
the nonsense
there is a noise
very quiet
or was it
some screeching diva,
popular now… before
my soul broke a thousand strings
under the commercials
sex all over the magazines
– praying
why, God, why?!!
TO LOVE
To love
is to be, to do, and
to share
you, with your self, and the
things thereof
with and for another
together, alone and
together
never-ending
the stretch and the climb
and the fall
(pouring everything out in the rain,
slugging hip-deep through the mud)
winter days or
sunrise parts of the moon
and all the stars
a rip in the ocean,
splash in the creek
that soft hand with its
calluses
quiet on the brow
dipped in a kiss
brushing, listening…
there.
Introduction to the poet:
Born in Baltimore, raised in York County, Pennsylvania, Rick served in the USAF with tours in Greece, Turkey, and Germany. He was educated at Univ. of Md. Extension while in Europe, and in the U.S. at Santa Monica College and California State University, Northridge. Rick has lived in Los Angeles and Denver; currently in Wichita, Kansas. He has also been published in several literary journals such as the New England Review (CT), Plainsongs, Poetpourri, Riverrun and in others.
Poem by MG
The Broken Poem
by MG
In pains, suddenly she learnt to bask.
The world she told and consoled
‘I am happy being alone.’
Deep inside, though the sorrow was
Buried and she aghast!
‘Sometimes words are more than just words…’
The pain she felt,
Seemed to suck her life away.
A turn in the tide of hearty emotions and
‘Never regret falling for the wrong guy’
She cried!
(Betraying others or the other part of herself?)
She had to lose,
Lose him because losing
Was the only solution
To come out of the dense
Delusion!
Mending the house which has
No bricks or sands to stand,
Letting it fall was best,
Deep down, she did understand.
Broken? And now that is all?
You try to see if you hide,
Your eyes will say it all!
The broken hearts,
Now she understood.
How he made her fall in pieces
And left no piece for her to pick;
Was this the love of Romeo?
Or it clapped the Iago sick?
‘Be grateful to your past, for,
‘It made you much stronger and wiser
‘And did let you know
‘The world is… yes… miser!’
The love… you know when love is true?
When He comes always for you
In fear, tear and cheer…
Introduction to the poet:
Mona, also known as MG, is an aspirant fashion designer from Mumbai. She was a happy soul until a severe heartbreak made her a sick and disgusted girl. However, she recovered herself with the course of time and now she is good once again.
Here, she tries to pour her heart out in few words. Twitter handle – http://twitter.com/Mona2237
Poems by Ken W Simpson
Poems by Ken W Simpson
Delusions
Shadows
doomed to fade
betray the light
on sad and gloomy days.
The paranoia
of the deluded mind
feeds on myths
of the miraculous kind.
Ferocious beasts of ill repute
have all it takes
to run for president
of the United States.
As You Were
A clock chimed half past nine
leaving images behind
on eyeballs
of grass growing in a park
bloated joys
and the buzz of love
swimming like tadpoles
in a goldfish bowl.
Introduction to the Poet:
Ken began writing poetry in about 2000. His first collection was published by SBPRA in 2010, followed by five or six more collections from SBPRA and Hemkunt (New Delhi). He lives with his daughter, her husband and four grandchildren at Lysterfield, another Melbourne suburb. Two new collections of Ken are to be published this year by Augur Press (UK) and Poetry Space (UK). Moreover, Ken has accepted warmly the request of Ashvamegh Team to work as a member of the advisory board. He often provides inputs to the team and that prove valuable!
Poems by Justin Clemens
Poems by Justin Clemens
When
Ce th
E mist
Akes f
Low fro
M a
N eye
‘S follow
Ing line
Age un
Der cond
It ions
Too lite
Ra l to
Read.
Stone
S n birds
two bones in hand
heart meniscus fires
artless
i
Gob’s slobber slops over
thick plastic rims’ rings
tight in the robot craw.
ii
Gums’ rot pales to yellow flakes
decking the long pink throats’
lost parade.
iii
Lurching from spurt to spasm
no thought can wend
these labyrinths
of cells without
misfire.
iv
It was never fire the storm
that ravelled cells like waves
of unseen air’s grey earth
swarming lost graves.
v
Out into crystal fires
of immutability the sewer stares
to tide the vowels’ rote consonance
with rippled air’s blind insolence
as though the habits of uncounted stars
despaired of eyes before.
Introduction to the Poet:
Justin Clemens is a Ph.D. holder from university of Melbourne, at present working as a lecturer in the same university. He is well known as a commentator on Australian art and literature, and his essays and reviews have appeared in The Age, The Australian, The Monthly, Meanjin, Overland, Arena Magazine, TEXT, Un Magazine, Discipline, The Sydney Review of Books, and many others. His major works are based on Psychoanalysis, contemporary European philosophy. His major published works are LacanDeleuzeBadio, Antiphilosophy and Minimal Domination.
Poem by Michelle Noonan
Poem by Michelle Noonan
Violet Visions
Visions of you
Stream through my soul,
As sunset approaches,
I have only one goal.
Wrapped in a passionate envelope with you,
My whole body shudders when I think of you two.
Violet waves over, stretched at the seams,
With the full force of nature,
Coming down hard.
A glazed reflection, a silhouette of her face,
Guides me through softly to a gentle embrace,
Infusion of colour, the rose garden awaits,
Her hair hangs down, on the archway nearby,
I turn away from her, I don’t wish to pry.
You whisper something to her, as my heart it weeps.
Our love for her, sparking fire in the sky,
As the orange rose blooms, just for you and I.
Introduction to the Poet:
Michelle is a young lady from Melbourne. She loves to dwell in natural beauty and often has a walk to forest. She has passion for music and poetry. She released her maiden poetry book last year – “Sensual Whispers”.