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Loud Rain

The rain is loud now, As if a giant feet arises from the clouds To step on the river under the bridge of my heart And disturb it in such a way That the sails of ships bend, And the water touches the bridge from below, Tickling it to sorrow… The rain is loud now, But actually, it has always been like this. You were there once, And I never felt it. But now, All there is Is this sorrow That tickles me from inside, As if it wants me to laugh, Yet doesn’t let me At the same time…
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Just beauty

 


You don’t need

Vernier’s Pearl earing,

Debussy’s flaxen hair,

Or Lisa’s smile...

You don’t need

To get red cheeks

After running a mile.

All that’s needed is for the wind to blow

And shake all those little strands

Left out from the bundle...

Fashion sense...

Or the lack there of

That makes you cute...

I comment on it

And then there’s a laugh;

Like a hundred dragonflies

On a sun-lit field,

Like wine in a glass

Listening to jazz,

Trying to dance along in vain,

Like the pheonix,

Resting on ice

Suddenly alighted,

Making the snow orange warm

And musical to look at...


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