International Poetry الشعر শ্লোক ကဗျာ ליבע ਪਿਆਰ өлүм

with Michael R. Burch

Michael R. Burch

PURSUIT

 

But the lantern-light dancing on wet streets

Is what the tripping, trembling heart greets.

 

Plish-plash, on soft rotting petals

Drops play volley, then plot misdeeds.

 

Flaring nostrils, hands, tendons fret;

The fog shapes a stranger, then retreats.

 

Splay ropes around her, the hand decrees;

Then unties knots in sweet release.

AN URBAN LANDSCAPE

 

Over the disputed alleys of my body

Your eyes roll like marbles

that children scatter in play.

Strips of your tattered words

Make buntings for a feast;

The shimmering veil that you gifted

hangs from the clothes line,

Wet with tears

And dried with sighs.

The curves of my body

Become stairs and balustrades

that your worn feet climb 

to reach your stuffy room.

 

Mysterious couriers deliver parcels of hope

That are burgled every night

By stealthy thieves.

 

I dress like an evening of lamps

With scent and flowers and bejewelled hair

Awaiting your promised return.

 

Every morning the promises

Are swept with brooms

Into neat piles of rubbish 

At the street corner.

GRAVE MATTERS

 

Each night I dig graves,

Little holes in the earth

That snails could crawl into,

And call houses.

 

Each night I dig pits

And put in eggshells,

Vegetable peels, shiny beads,

Pieces of glass bangles,

And memories of us.

 

Each night I turn earth

Like an earthworm at work,

To test the compost

Made of tender words 

That you once bestowed.

 

Moonlight scrambles 

Over scraggly tree branches,

Drops to clumsy earth

And muddies her knees,

As she nimbly packs

With silvery fingers

The crevices of graves

With straws of hopes

That yellow and linger.

Mandakini Bhattacherya is a multi-lingual poet, literary critic and translator from India. Her scholarly articles and poems have been published in international and national journals and also in books.

I am fighting,

fighting with the demons,

the demons that reside in my head,

my head that would have exploded,

exploded and shattered into pieces,

pieces that would never be joined together;

together we could have fixed me,

me, alone in this chaos,

chaos you never intended to calm;

calm that would have nurtured my soul,

my soul, that has turned into darkness,

darkness, that has eaten me alive.

Hira Naz Sulehri, from Pakistan, is a process improvement executive by profession, a poet at heart, and an avid reader out of love.

Forever Yours

 

I will still be loving you . . .

Maybe something happens, and you don’t remain you;

Maybe something happens, and I don’t remain me,

Maybe our paths diverge,

and we get lost while walking.

I’ll still love you.

 

You taught me to laugh, you taught me to love.

My days and nights are beautiful,

All this is because of you only.

If you ever remember me,

I will come to you in the form of wind.

I’ll still love you.

 

Whether you are in love with me tomorrow or not,

Whether I have your permission tomorrow or not,

With all the pieces of my broken heart within me;

I’ll be loyal to you.

I’ll still love you.

Chintan Khatri was born in Mumbai, India, and now lives in Tempe, Arizona. He is a Software Engineer by profession and has been inspired by love to write poetry. He dedicates these poems to the only love of his life, a writer to whom he owes everything.

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