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Best Poems From
RANI TURTON
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133.
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Poets
Poets have no tools, never
No tangible tools that is to say
Some people even call them fools
Poets have a different worldview
Built on emotions, sensations, lacerations
Splinters of pain
And all that the heart holds to be true.
Poets have no right way or wrong way
(Its true that they often lose their way anyway) :
Poetry has always been difficult to define
Scrambled thoughts, scrambled lines
That is to say
Perfect lines, perfect rhymes
Clockwork metric thoughts and thou and thine
Stanzas, couplets and all the rest of it
My emotions flew jagged against the sky
My thoughts often threatened to run away
Like me; I speak about pain and despair
People who are going to die
Corpus callosum, existence ad infinitum
Transient joy, the rainbow arching
Spectral armies marching
Tramping, tramping down history's worn-out lanes
And the lines in a stranger's face
His apparent despair, his evident pain
Jerk me from those absolute, imperfect rhymes
I am myself corpus callosum-like again.
Rani Turton
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134.
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Poets In Their Melancholy
Poets, with troubled lives and secret thoughts
Have often stood and looked this way
And in this half light, strong and secret
What they thought, nobody can say
As dusk fell, and windows would close
Some words from soft songs would drift in
And take root in the present; some lines
Would nestle in a stranger's heart and brain.
Poets, lost in their melancholy
Lost in the muddle of their lives
Weave verse and rhyme: and thus it is
That their work their lives suvives.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Rani Turton
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135.
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Pretend, Just Pretend
As I write these lines, simple words that
Tear at my heart; pour from my heart
As they say what I cannot say: as they speak
The unimaginable, the words I left aside
For another day
Pretend, just pretend that I am,
That I am the one you love
Here before you, here at last
Waiting, for the words I want to hear
Words for which I hadn't asked;
Words that wound and sear
I am this moment. I am the thought.
I am the emotion, but alas, not thine.
I, who belong to nobody, am yours
And yours even to decline.
I am the light and the strength
I am love and its divine essence
Prtend, just prtend foe an instant that I am
The person who has your acquiescence.
There is a truth to be found in your eyes
Ah, in your eyes, so evident;
You look at me clearly; you are unaware
That, for so many summers now
You hold me love's tricky snare.
You hold me in an emotion I can hardly bear
The quest for truth lent an edge to my rhetoric
I, in my wanderings, left intellect behind;
Reason and arument did not wisdom bestow;
My heart spoke to me, and with my soul I had
Much to discuss; much to question: but
The rain did fall and fall and the wind blow.
There were hours of contemplation
Wondering where to go and when;
You will know when I come to you
In all simplicity, no questions to ask
And no replies to give;
Pretend, just pretend you love me
For a moment, a day, for eternity.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Rani Turton
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136.
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Professor Higgins, I'm Not That Flower Girl
Professor Higgins, I'm not that flower girl
A flower girl that is foreign to boot;
The cockneys in Londontown are
A learning experience on their own;
And Eliza Dolittle was such a dear that
You may be talking clean through your hat;
Fiddlediddydo and fuddyduddydo
Forgive me Professor Higgins
I dunno where it begins.
I'm not that flower girl, dear sir
My accent holds all that I hold dear
I too would be flabbergasted if you
Suddenly learnt to speak like me;
Lo! what misery!
Professor Higgins, loosen your stays
Your accent has flown clearaways
If you were really a scholar in this area
Ah! you would become better and better!
Copyright: Rani Turton
Rani Turton
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