Weekly Challenge On Thanksgiving

I'm not American
We don't have Thanksgivings.
Despite the umpteen festivals
We Indians celebrate
From Christmas to Halloween
Diwali to Eid
Holi to Dusshera
This is truly unique
Where you say Thank you
Gratitude is the only prayer you offer
The best libations of all.

So I adopt your ways America
For this would be poem
And find my face flooding in tears
For in my most troubled and difficult times
My poetic friends thank you
For lending me
Your heart
Through kind eyes and ears.

Thank you for believing
I can write
Thank you for your generous accolades
For calling me a flower of India
Thank you for your
Powerful words.

You have made a proud poetess
Of a woman too ordinary
And plain
Happy am I  wishing all of you
For Thanksgiving Day
My friends.

(c) Amrita Valan 2015

Hurt and Lost

I don't want to understand any more
To understand is to walk through fire
Savoring the flaming Lips of holocaust genocide and murder
And branding hot coals
Of burning burials
With steel boots
But no denial.

I cannot undergo the torture
That chokes intelligence
Pity is putty
Of mass manipulation
I cannot insult mercy.
Kindness heals with
Hands cool
On heated brows
Brings pool of tears
Sizzling lava flows
Of sentiments
Hurt and broken hearted
The world revolves
around the clock
Tipping the axes
Of revolution.

(c) Amrita Valan 2015

Of Fear...Courage and Compassion.

I think people have a right to be scared.
I know I am. And it does not mean I have no compassion for the oppressed or unfortunates. 

But it doesn't work the way social media memes are going about... working up a frenzy of indignation ...trying to bully coerce shame people into compassion and political correctness. Use the heart.
But also use the head.

Please people don't post absurd memes about how unchristian and uncaring you are if you are fearful of the consequences of an action.
Accept that you're wrong if you're misinformed but don't be ashamed of your fears.
Fear can't be denied. It  has to be faced for courage to be born.

Unfortunately charity cannot afford to be uncritical and indiscriminate nor endless.
Charity also begins at home. Save your compassion for your homeless your war veterans your orphans.
Save the world but first do your dirty dushes and laundry.
I see everyone irrespective of race or religion posting how we must save the Syrian refugees.

Now I will state something that has puzzled me for some time. And btw this required me to be honest and courageous.

What I don't see and have not seen are posts where a Muslim instead of defending his position,that all Muslims are not terrorists, (we know that believe me!), or being aggressively offended about the victimization of Palestinians by Zionists, are concerning themselves with the victimization of All  people of All Religious Denominations.

Where are the social memes by Muslims protesting against theocratic oppressive misogynistic regimes, such as Saudi Arabia, or the persecution of the Hindu minority in Bangladesh or the Christian minority in Pakistan? Or the police brutality in Indonesian crackdowns on pubs?
Why are their protests not equally tilted towards secular issues?
Why not be equally concerned about atrocities perpetrated by legitimate Islamic regimes and theocracies on minorities? I am not talking about terrorism here.

We all accept the position that all terrorism does not stem from Islam.

But I am also thinking this, how about Muslims organizing equally zealous spirited protests for topics other than Islamophobia, for issues not affecting just their Muslim brethren but all of their human brethren, Christians, Hindus, Buddhist atheists agnostics
Gays et all?
This is pure mind speak. With a tiny flutter in the heart of how I will be shamed by my FB friends now...as petty and small minded.

Now I await comments of what a racist bigoted prejudiced Islamophobe I am.
Though I have many Muslim friends who care about me and I about them in real life. In the virtual word beautiful words of prayer have all the virtue.
Bring on rationality and you're a vice to be eschewed.

But honestly, this aspect, I confess to being bothered about. 

Well my friends I have to be me.
And the labels belong to you.

(c) Amrita Valan 2015

And Once Again... Straight from My Heart.

There's a blackboard
There's an equation
The underlying mathematics
Do you read it?
If one plus one is greater than two,
There's an explanation,
Do you seek it?

Time flies past
Sometimes toobfast
Sometimes so slow
You don't want it to last,
But do you not bear it?

There's a reason
A gestational season
When the caterpillar stops
Chewing
And prep time
Is over...

Are you prepared?
Not for the testing,
But for the resting,
Resignation and surrender
To  utter enigmatic stillness?

A time for dormancy
A hibernating infancy
To emergent beauty
Full grown and lovely?

Life?
Some say for wasting,
Others for testing
Your mettle,
Some seek out
Purpose,
And aiming for fame,
Languish...

Meanwhile. ..
The butterfly flits by
Ephemeral winged love
Feeding on flowers
To dance with the breeze.

Life lays out its own laws,
Take a moment's sweet pause,
Dare to be free!

Life is for tasting
Too good for wasting
And the test
Is taken
When dreams
Awaken....
Flower buds to blossoms
Ethereal cosmos
Such a sweet plucking
Of pure fantasy.

(c) Amrita Valan 2015

Written from the Heart...Tonight

Written from the Heart...Tonight.

I am not...
A racist.
A bigot.
A hater.
A coward.

Nor am I...
Harsh
Cruel
Inhuman
Merciless.

I am not...
An angel
A goddess
A saint
A seer or a
Prophet.

But
With all my heart
mind and
Soul
With every beautiful beat
Of blood that
pumps and throbs
With every throe of
Passion's puzzles
And agony's anguish,
At every turn of the fork
And crossroads
At the logic gates
Of the valleys of
The shadow of death
Where floods of mercy
willy nilly burst forth
from dams of
Self control and caution,

I am
Damned
Accursed
Blessed
To be
A thinker.

(c) Amrita Valan 2015

Slop Weekly Challenge.... Rictameters....

Weekly Challenge.  November 15-30.
Rictameter.... 2 4 6 8 10 8 6 4 2

I am
Happy to be
Down to earth, so plain and
very simple, a wallflower.
Clinging amidst the moss innocuously.
You pluck me into a posy
Vain on your lapel
Happy flower,
I am.

(c) Amrita Valan 2015

Not submitted. ..

Cocksure
Vain glorious
Always much too boastful was he
knew not the pretence of humility
Till he met Alicia.
Wondrous luminous girl
Glorious eyes
Cocksure.

(c) Amrita Valan 2015

Love Poem

Moonbeam in the afternoon
Your smile
Liplock of collusion...
Lolita's confessional
giggly secrets interlocked
Love dappled cream cheeks
Invite sun's caress
Becoming
Bewitching honey shades
Turning combs of jet lashes
tawny, half hidden
Glimpses of  blue-black
Ocular blessings
Occult marbles invitingly liquefy
Till Tuesday merges
With Wednesday
And Time is lost
In black holes of absorption
And space becomes
Hollows of scooped out
Salvation.

Ruby smears your lipstick
painted upon my eyelids
Closed for sweet eternity.
An instant of infinite
Fortune
When velvet kisses rain
Right through
Soul avenue.

I have been returned
To this world
Tuesday morning
Just before work,
Feels like Taut Thursday
Tip toeing into fulfillment's
Naughty weekend.
Sleeplessly dreamy layovers.
Come Let's
Light up this luminescent
weekend.

(c) Amrita Valan 2015

Once Upon A Rainy Day

Once Upon a Rainy Day...

Tears  gush out
I am blinded
Like lava rushing
Out from hurting eyes
The heart bed of magma regrets
Melting,
Suppressed stony sighs.

Sorrow you're too loyal
Too constant,
Let go my friend,
Find fresh victims
My eyes are curtained,
By sweet sheathes of
Longing in Lent.

How I longed and prayed to hear
How much I'm wanted and desired,
And how you mock me,
In silence, sorrow.
You want to be my friend
And I see none but you
Usher in the cold dark madness...
We will  lie in our coffin
For two.

The fresh outpourings carefully condensed
Hang about my frigid atmosphere
Become the caustic air I breathe
And the vapid life I lead
Becomes my span,
My existence.

Dawn stirs me into action
And as I brew coffee or tea
The cold blue gaslight flickers
I feel trickling down my cheeks

All my thoughts,
My rockbed memories
My  efforts to love and be loved,
Helpless against their stringent fate
Doomed from their very start.

My heart must be the chalk white cemetery
Tomb of dead loves and
the death of love,
Grief hangs pristine, like mournful miasma
Tears are pallbearers
To one above.

And songs I hum under
My breath
Are set to maddening wistful tunes
Dirges to my deathless hope
See you, my sorrow,
Soon.

(c) Amrita Valan 2015

My Pilot

Sonali Roy see how your words inspired me.

My child is everything for me
He is my soul my destiny
The pilot who will fly ahead of me
One day.

Today I hold his little hand
Cradling his mind's own wonderland
I watch the spark of fairies
Gleam in his eyes
I watch my son in radiance rise.

If I have told you lies to console.
Inhibited hindered your growth
With my cautionary fearfulness
Excuse me l lacked grit but
Love you nevertheless.

Today you see if I walk my talk
And in your soft heart impressions chalk
Some values learnt some falsehood spurned
I gain the courage to take my stand

For your sake my stance must be firm
No dilly dallying deceit will cause you harm
My child you I love and
Have learnt to understand
To respect and explore with you
Your wonderland.

And this country of our joint childhood
Will come to an end
At the edge of reality and fairy woods
And I will become the shadow behind your tale
Bravo my pilot
You fly your plane so well!

(c) Amrita Valan 2015

My Love's Return

I love you like a chilly
summer breeze
Laden with mercy's rain
I love you in all innocence
Like a dawn that never ends
I love you like the scent of
Jasmines
Perfuming night's poignant air
I love you plain just as I am
And become Helen of Troy so fair

My unstinted and dauntless love
Eases any sense of lack
And makes me beautiful
In thought word and deed
Repelling clouds of despair black

I recline on contentment's couch
I have been blessed to know such love
That keeps my heart easy supple and soft
Love returned from God above.

(c) Amrita Valan 2015

Myth Land

Myth Land

Intimate secret precious
Sepia  tones of my life
Preserved in albums
intact
Where no one may ever find
Posterity not allowed entrance
To my moth eaten testaments
These were lovely days indeed
A kaleidoscope through rain
A Journey through  horrors of
Ancient copse
Dark dim and ghostly woods
An anchorage in blue skies above
And in my heart brave myths that brood
Take me home to safely roost
At the end of journey's day
As the journal closes,
Oh, my friends
I have had a lovely day!

(c) Amrita Valan 2015

Vers Libre

Weekly Challenge
Burly Wanton Unhibited

Burly frame of a bully
Hurt mind of a child
Locker full of lust
Wanton memories
Of people and of
Life.

Her surely caresses grudgingly delivered
Captive in his arms
Her fate eclipsed in surrender.
She valued her freedom
But  valued her security
For her fears were paramount.
She deserved her paramour.
Who devoured her like a dragon
And enveloped her in gluttony
But though fleshy and ferocious
He couldn't cloud her senses.

She who stared at the ceiling
And recalled past lives in vers libre
And he who was the barometer
Of every alteration of her senses.

In him slowly felled a manhood
Devoid of pride
So filled with dread
His love a shadow woman
A fretwork of frustration
He  left every  morning
Feeling his burden
Smacking his lips
On cold leftovers...
That's the way his
Sin sodden cookie crumbled.

(c) Amrita Valan 2015

For Puja

For my childhood friend... Puja Banerjee who brings fond memories of fun times...trials ...trust and generosity.

Red glittering attire
Hair... a fall of ebony
lissome moves, She
Of elfin grace
A smile so charming
Dazzling daylight
Like molten sunlight
On creamy ivory.
A graciousness
That comforts
Her face is
Sweet blessing
to witness. 

Beautiful woman
You befriend the world
With beauty and courage
You're a luminous
Glorious patch of
Sunshine
On a cool cloudy day.

Walk in grace and courage always....
Be dauntless...For you're
Puja
Offering of
The Gods...

(c) Amrita Valan 2015

The Last Tusker

Ivory on lace
Who would've thought
An elephant's tusk
Could color a woman's
Innocence with
Such ethereal grace?

Pretty as a posy
Fresh arranged.
Cheerful and cozy.
With joy arraigned

A queen of the season
Belle of the ball
Debutante darling
Beloved by all.

Her cheeks tinted pink
Her gown rose and cream
Satin soled feet
Traipsing dainty dreams
She trails ethereal
Clouds seven to nine
Blowing candy puff kisses
Pure fluff divine.
What does she know?
Twirling granny's ivory bracelet
On delightful wrist
Of a dying tusker
Writhing on the ground
To provide her this?
Symbol of elegance
In societies sorry parlance
Craving for natural charm
Through coy artful lenses.

Dance on little girl
Your life remains
To play the pretty little fool
While others are game.

(c) Amrita Valan 2015

Tears

Tears are a well of loneliness
When nothing can resolve
A painful mess

Tears try
To seek relief
My only friend,
Antidotes. .. caregivers. ..
Dance their bravery
Down my cheeks.

Tears of hurt bewilderment
Worse than the Mark of Cain
Leprosy's archaic taint
Shows the world softness
Is your worst mistake.

Let tears run their course and race
Track of knive stabs upon your face
But
Let no one see the saline trace
Of your precious tears.
Fear both those who wear
Mercy upon their sleeves,
And those who want you
To believe
Tears are worthless
False relief.

Not so
But
Tears are secret myriad selves
Joys in sorrow, solitude's fanciful elves
And not a human soul can know
Though what you reap
Is what you sow
Water  of love and mercy
Borne of bitterest rootstock's
Malignant growth
Tears to thee, I belong...
I'm betrothed.

(c) Amrita Valan 2015