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Best Poems From
RANI TURTON
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117.
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Sacred Was This Longing
Sacred was this longing; like a flame
Whitehot and purified: flaring towards freedom
Nebulous but euphoric in a mad quest for liberty;
To rebel, to fight and even maybe lose
With that sacred faultline of losers the world over:
Cracks in the surface, waiting, waiting for a kinder destiny.
Sacred was this desire: wrapped in life's energy.
It was what enabled the city lights and country earth
To course in my life's blood. When I raised my head
To look at the stars they were attainable;
When I looked at the horizon it seemed so near
I had touched rockbottom but now I could fly alone
Touched, brushed, cleansed by
This sacred longing
Copyright: Rani Turton
Rani Turton
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118.
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Secrets
I have been so many things in my life
A daughter, a worker, a beloved and a wife
I have sometimes sat down and wept
But that is a secret that should be timidly kept
I have often wanted somebody to reply
If all women were like me and if so why
Was I a loser? Was I wise?
That is a secret that I can summarise;
Insecurity, confusion, fatigue and while
I hid all this inside me behind a smile
My secret is simple and utterly pure:
Life is simply not sure;
I can choose to dropp out of the race
Or choose to go on at my pace.
Rani Turton
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119.
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Sew My Heart Wth A Golden Needle
The sun sets as the globe turns; I am alone, and you
Maybe not; Who knows why some destinies turn out this way?
I flirted with metaphysics; I asked for answers but
The questions turned themselves away.
Bleed, heart, bleed. It might help to dull the loss.
It might soften the anguish and the pain;
The human condition is fragile, strong and strange by turns
Though with every sunrise the light returns.
Bleed heart bleed; the power of this pain
Will then lessen, and with a golden needle I can then,
Stitch the broken fragments, wash them in the rain
And finally enable this broken heart to become whole again.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Rani Turton
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120.
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Shadows like Sins: The Cycle Of Life
Shadows, like sins, cast low on the ground.
The cycle of life carries on. Some of the good lingers on
In unsuspected ways. The family is a tribe
With it's own codes. Some of the shadows linger on.
The wisdom to sow, reap and differeniate between the real
The surreal, the ego, the egoistical is not given to all.
Everyone carries their own burden.
Some do their best to realise
Their lives by fighting for their dreams;
And some, try to understand and analyse.
Day after day, the hours tick on and it seems
Shadows lengthen with the noon
Mystic, melancholy, heavy with tears
Shadows that follow and merge
The body, substantial and the shadow, ethereal
And even more so by the light of the moon.
If life is a shadow that passes like a dream
Are we what we are and do we seem to be what we seem?
Copyright: Rani Turton
Rani Turton
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