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Best Poems From
RANI TURTON
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165.
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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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166.
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The Psychology of the Unsaid
Thoughts, untranslated, remained unsaid.
Was it because expression or emotion was dead?
Or was it really that all courage had fled?
Education has not the answer
On thoughts that remain unsaid;
Or the psychology of the unsaid world
Could probably change the world.
There were pauses, there were glances
And the words that spoke
Were the smokescreen for
Ordinary, unsuspecting folk.
Now, instinct, reason and lapsus
Are some more terms to discuss;
The unwritten is unwritten
The unspoken is yet hidden.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Rani Turton
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167.
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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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168.
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The River Ran Red: The Kalinga War
The river ran red; thousands died as they gave their lives
The king bowed his head; Widows and orphans this day
Families in mourning, and he, only he, was the cause.
The river ran red. Resistance at the cost of lives
Humans and animals died side by side
The mutilation and the pain, the Daya flowing red, flowing red
And thus it came about that
He knelt and cheeks wet, the King wept.
Edicts in stone that speak. Misery and bloodshed
But no glory. As far from glory as conscience can be
Watching the mayhem in misery..
The river ran red. The King wept.
Copyright: Rani Turton
Rani Turton
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