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Best Poems From
RANI TURTON
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97.
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How Can I Say This?
How can I say this? the sum of my eruditon
Could not assistance give; the poets in my country
And the world over,
Have the words, emphasize the emotions
But I lag far, far behind.
How can I say? When I see the sun rise
The moon dance on moonlit nights
When I hear children laugh and music
From open windows, I remember the blind
Sitarplayer, my father with his violon,
I remember friends passed on who out of wood
Made their own guitars.
How can I say? The land of emotions lies
Just beyond the horizon; like ships with masts
That vanish in the clear beyond. Like rays on light
On dappled water, out of cosmic wonder
Comes grace.
How can I say? The years are often long
Because time stumbles and pauses
As often as I have. These lines, these words
This hand, this pen are the link that tie me
To my innermost thoughts
To my innermost thoughts.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Rani Turton
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98.
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I Thought Love Was An Emotion
Not an ordeal, no, not a slow walk in the sunlight
After a long melancholy night;
Not a trial by fire after getting wet in the rain
Stepping over puddles and watching pain
Plop in to the swirling water
And waiting, watching long after.
I thought love was an emotion, strong affection;
One that overrid all objection and dejection;
Not a melancholy metaphysical madness
Not a surreal, sentimental sadness.
I thought love was an emotion, an emotion
That it was just another poetic notion
When feelings your body do betray
Emotion tries to flee clear away.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Rani Turton
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99.
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I Thought Of A Place
I thought of a place
A place where my soul could go to be alone.
From here to there with fragile wings
I have flown.
Where I could be myself,
With all my faults, faults multiplied by ten.
Faults I confessed to myself, often.
Where I could observe and understand
The workings of the universe
A universe that often seems to work
To my mind in total reverse.
I thought of a place where
There would be a meeting place
For all colours and accents without anybody
Trying to outdo the other
Trying to outtalk and show their superiority
Over another's culture and birth.
Words, like needles, often prick.
Be yourself, that is the trick.
I thought of a place
Where they would look at the person
Behind the strange name, strange face
Strange accent and strange degrees.
And that is the truth in every country and city.
Unfortunately, more's the pity
We can educate and prune
From Arctic winter to monsoon;
There is a high born accent
A low born accent
and also a third world accent
And for those who live in a tent.
Tell me, is there any such place?
Copyright: Rani Turton
Rani Turton
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100.
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I Was Walking in Yesterday
I was walking in yesterday
Wraiths and city nights knew me
I walked far on into the past and then
The complexity of that endless road came across to me
I didn't use word associations, then and now,
Not even to try to place locations in
The map of my mind; I wandered here and there
I was walking in yesterday
As if yesterday was today
And as though the past was alive
I walked into yesterday and it was the friend
Whose name I couldn't recall; it was the wanderer's wine
Bought at a wayside stall
It was the cold water in a village well when the sun burnt the eyes
All the rest was lies
I walked into yesterday but I left my todays behind
I did not realise that I was leaving behind
The remants of the rest of my mind.
Rani Turton
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