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Best Poems From
RANI TURTON
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153.
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The Poet As In Exile
The mind moves, the way hands do
To touch a beloved's face; to feel within
The soul, the thoughts, the skin.
The mind, sometimes heavy, lacks the shine
Of the freshly polished vase
The mind, saddened by its exile
Tries to leave the poet behind.
The mental, the metal, the marital, the martial
Worlds seem to be in fusion;
And then ultimately comes
The anguish, the joy or the confusion.
Footsteps around the world;
Standing over the Seine
Clouds in the water, and nothing
To guide me even then.
Like any other poet in exile
Destiny seemed knotted like a rug
Persian-perfect and that thought,
That absurdity finally made me smile.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Rani Turton
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154.
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The Poet's World
How many poets have these pavements known
Stepping and storming, thinking and weaving
Lines into dreams; these cracked intellectual stones
Have mutely remained still under the onslaught of words:
Silent in the fury of the poet's world.
This twisted tree has seen me too
Trying to reason out what I did,
The evidence of the illogical emotion
And the rational linear world.
Why did the clouds run away?
Was there a reason the moon suddenly hid?
Why did the waves slosh and fall? Fated to follow the tide,
Feelings and fate, the poems pour out.
The city waits, accepting the flow
Of verse that, thrown into the river
Flowed on, flowed on. The river takes all
And life carries on, carries on.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Rani Turton
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155.
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The Ragged Rich and the Ragged Poor
The ragged poor in front of my eyes: sometimes so poor
The ragged rich in front of my eyes, sometimes so rich
The pitiful poor are so helpless in their misery
So miserably poor, fear fills the belly
Fear in the jutting bellies, fear is no luxury for the poor.
Empty bellies have their own logic of survival.
But in this world of egos and inhumanity
The rich have more than plenty
So much that sometimes they are empty
Sometimes they look as though they have nothing at all.
Then why do they act poor? Poorly unconvincing that is
Wear tattered clothing, turn night into day
Marriage isnt a necessity
But they have the biggest and best.
The poor it seems are rich with spiritual integrity
Thats what the rich say
Do they know how many farmers put an end to their lives
Just because of loans and their strifes?
But they wouldnt know, would they
The answers to the non-existence of the
Psychopathology of the conditions of survival and depression
Of the fundamentally deprived impoverished
Indigenous populations through generations of privation.
The rich should know better than to flaunt their silly faces
All re-done, tucked in and chiseled
Winning, grinning, sinning
They should know better than to flaunt their silly bags
Made from some poor reptiles skin
Theyll know when the reptiles finally get em.
Who is the reptile then? Is it a sin to be rich?
Reptiles skin, plumped up lips, and photographed
Taking Asian or African orphans in their arms
Shedding crocodiles tears, jumping onto a plane
Party sniffing until the next one.
Oh vanity and botox-filled dreams
Life is never what it seems
One day the poor will be rich and then
The whole cycle will start again.
Rani Turton
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156.
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The Rose and the Shadow
The rose spoke to the shadow:
'But why do you follow me? '
The shadow replied, 'Never have I seen
A beauty to rival with thee.'
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The rose blushed in confusion
And didn't know what to say
The shadow, courteously said:
'Let me stay near you if I may'.
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'It is only by your substance
That I may take form
Your very existence enables me
To exist and perform.'
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The rose and the shadow thus
Became the closest of friends
From sunrise to sunset
The shadow the rose defends.
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Copyright: Rani Turton
Rani Turton
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