Posts tagged: Poetry Appreciation Day

Beauty On The Beach

I felt the look from well inside the waves.
A pleasant face, a quick and somber smile.
There is a friendly devil who so often saves
a lovely gem for me, a jewel of the Nile.
Just to enjoy, like flowers on a meadow,
and do not touch, you break it so you pay.
Is he just teasing me by showing me her shadow,
or half expecting me to lead myself astray?
It must be age that gives an urgency to meet
all kinds of birds and bees of God’s menagerie.
And different stages, much like drummers and their beat
feel innermost the feral calling to be free.
It be not lust or superficial fast consumption,
or boredom, breeding with some hormonal excess,
to overshadow our pretended high presumptions,
which leads to talons clawing more, but getting less.
Yes, there is fire even when a whisp of smoke
drifts from between two bodies, barely juxtaposed.
The free expression is but hampered by a yoke,
both peers and strangers flash the sign at you:
NOW CLOSED.

So, I go up to her, with confident expression:
‘Would you be able Ma’ m, to spare a dropp of screen?
You see, my nose is fond of sun, it’s an obsession,
but in the morning one can tell where it has been.’
With lovely hands that previously had smeared,
the creamy stuff, ejaculated from the tube,
she dabs it on me, laughing loudly, then I feared
my nose would quickly get its filll of rub-in goop.
Just when I thought that I should have suggested
a bigger target as in need of sun protection,
which, with her housewife’s fingers she could have molested,
she rolled her eyes and blinked: ‘Upon reflection,
your back is turning bright red like a lobster,
so, let me now, don’t argue, be your saviour, ‘
as down the dune came, looking like a mobster,
with strides of purpose, I was smearing good behaviour,
upon her shoulders and the soft folds at the pits,
annoyed by an intruder with no obvious class.
And then he spoke while I was ogling her tits.
This mobster with an accent had arrived,
went down to her, began to lather now her thighs.
Then introduced himself, I heard, Ye Gods Alive!
as her dear husband, what a bloody, cute surprise.

I’d missed her slight, but foreign-flavoured intonation,
if nothing else while pulling in my gut,
so hubby pumped my hand, as in the distant nation
of our homeland is the custom, then said: ‘But,
appreciate the time you took to chat,
so many weirdos populate these lovely beaches,
so vot yuuh ssay, yuuh ssink, now vee haf met,
vee haf zum beer and talk vot my vife teaches,
next year in school, to High School shdudents yet.’

The hours went, we finished all the cream,
most of the beer and salty pretzels in the dunes.
And reminiscing of the homeland, it would seem
that we’d been friends already for a thousand moons.

You have imagined that my thoughts were less than pure
throughout the pleasant session of the afternoon,
you are correct but I was never really sure,
was he fair dinkum then or p’haps a clever hoon?

In closing I should mention one more fact,
her loveliness, magnetic to extremes,
had turned my pilot light to three, enough to act,
although the word ‘behaviour’ was, in hindsight so it seems
an early warning, followed by -her name is Mary-
the story of a fascinating past in heathen jungles,
where she’d met hubby as another fiery missionary,
to straighten out the natives and their rulers’ bungles.

Wise to the savages of godless, blackened skin,
and back unscathed from God-abandoned regions,
their minds and bodies well attuned to dealing with much sin,
they saw their fellow men as humans, worth allegiance.

When sunset finally threatened with a sober chapter,
to slip in place of many hours, filled with laughter,
we’d taken turns as conversation captors,
and hasty dusk felt much like cobweb morning after.

The barbecue is scheduled for next Sunday,
both daughters will bring videos of lions.
And Fred is saying that it ought to be a fun day,
with frank discussions on Christianity and Science.
As one who’s never been a diligent practitioner,
the word of God is something private, so-to-speak.
Nor would you see me as a somber-eyed parishioner,
or part of those who witness, share and truly seek
the genuine wisdom for their fellow man’s salvation,
who believe in natural goodness of us sheep.
I must say that, as for me the revelation
was souls I met, they were pristine and deep.


PARVAT

KAN DEKHO
KANKAD DEKHO,
PATHAR ,TILLA PAHADI DEKHO,
KAISE JUDTE KAISE BADATE,
BANE HIMALAY KI UCHAI DEKHO
HA ! KHUD DEKHO
KHADE KYA HO,
DEKHO APANI KHAI DEKHO,
AGAR NIKALNA CHAHTE HO
BADO AAGE UCHAI DEKHO,
HA ! KAN-KAN SE BANE PARVAT KI
SACHAI DEKHO.