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Best Poems From
RANI TURTON
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161.
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The Depth of Longing
On this steep slope that leads to a far-off frontier
There is nothing, not even a guide.
Intention, detention and retention
Freedom lies in blue skies
Where lies my destiny?
A thread unravlled here and there
And a restless, weary spirit travelling
Never resting, never unravelling
The skeins of that silken yarn
To match the depths of the longing
The longing of the single solitary star
Skimming is cosmic spaces, brilliant and bold
The long-lost memory of belonging
For a single instant to somebody somewhere sometime
In an epoch that vaunts the lack of belonging
To the depths of this longing.
Copyright 2008 Rani Turton
Rani Turton
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162.
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The Devil at Midday
Restlessness, when the sun is high
Directly in the midst of the sky
Melancholy, walk beside me for a while
The hours will pass on by and by.
The sun hypnotises the eyes
The brain spins like a planet out of control
Vain cosmic causes and plans
Sucked into an agonising black hole
When the brain is on fire
But the skin is clammy cold
When thoughts run riot and the body is calm
The devil walks and slowly takes hold
Copyright: Rani Turton
Rani Turton
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163.
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The Glass of Wine Smiles
Two glasses of wine
Waiting, on a bare wooden table.
Breathing the air.
Barges that float on the Seine.
Slowly, like swans on a lake.
A step on the staircase.
The door opens.
The beloved has come.
The glass of wine smiles.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Rani Turton
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164.
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The Literary Blues
There is a book and pages that rustle,
A vagabond muse, bewildered
Hiding in the faces of ones that I loved
That sang, that danced, that bled.
There were things; a necklace and a ring.
Dense and comforting but, that could in a trice
Bring a sheen of tears to my eyes;
There were thoughts that flew over the seas
And scattered into blue skies.
I would pick up my heavy hand
I would try to write a few lines
Now, now that's the way literary tears
Cascade, try to understand.
I have the literary blues today
I don't know what I'm going to do
When I'm feeling literally literary
And so very, very weary.
Now, the sun is going to rise
Stars wink and fade, and the words flow
There is a book, and pages that rustle
My words, my dreams and things I don't know.
Rani Turton
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