|
|
|
Best Poems From
RANI TURTON
|
|
| |
|
|
169.
|
They Took Me To Your Tomb Last Night
Far from thinking any such thing, the day
Went in mundane details of everyday life
I was not even aware of strife
The night came as it often does, without any warning.
I slept. I dreamt.
And that night they took me to your tomb
I was dumb.
I stood there, silently, not letting grief show
Grief misplaced, grief that remained where it should
Somewhere. Nowhere. Everywhere.
I remembered soft phrases, I remembered places
I thought of unexplained things
What were your last thoughts and of whom?
Not of me, no, that cannot be.
I was as always, and will always be
That solitary entity
They took me to your tomb last night
I loved you, and passion spoke
And said that it was all right
To grieve and believe, that however
Deep the pain, however wasted the life
That I could silently, with my mind speak;
Speak of reality, of dreams and limits
You were fay beyond words, touch, passion
You were my dream and my pain
They took me to your tomb last night
And that emotion troubled me once again.
Copyright: Rani Turton 2008
Rani Turton
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
170.
|
This Burdened Heart
This burdened heart speaks low but clear
That today destinys lanes are not very clear;
That pain, like rain, can mist up the eyes
That clouds, like pain can block out the skies
That somewhere else my heart wants to go
There are dreams and all I had to forego
Burdening my heart: where lies happiness
If my mind lies elsewhere, oscillating and vacillating:
Restrained and constrained, layers within layers
Life is but a stage and we are the players
But also when total liberty beckons, perplexed
My soul is vanquished, there are no walls to demolish
No mountains to climb, no one to care;
Nobody to say, nobody at all
Not now, not like this, not this time
That somewhere in this century we are alone, bewildered,
Abandoned, that we are
Parts of burdened hearts, that lie lost, thrown aside
Neglected, dejected, rejected
That there are no signposts on the crumbling way.
This burdened heart stops and starts
Carries on, bump-a-lump; will not give up
Life is but a brimming cup.
Rani Turton
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
171.
|
This Emptiness Within
This emptiness within, an utter stillness that could,
Would, should remain transfixed by eternity
Not a sunyatian stillness not the perfect void
A void, no, rather devoid
Not a perfect vacumn not even the space
To fill up a space that
Silences and stillness from analysis
Springs nought; not the naught but the knot
And the stillness and the silence in empty hearts
As far from perfection as existence
As far from existence as perfection
From where perfection springs
From the depth of the naughts
This emptiness within, then as still
As far from perfection's existence
As from perfecting existence
Transcends and permeates the fickle uneasy mind
Leaving mind and thought and emotion far, far behind.
Copyright 2008 Rani Turton
Rani Turton
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
172.
|
This Moment Captive
I can call you my beloved
Softly under my breath:
Only my own ears will hear;
I can look on you as my very own
Until the hour of my death.
You are here and now, this moment captive
In the cupped warmth of my hands
You can speak to me if you must
I won't run for I'll be a prisoner of your words
Tied to you by soft silken bands.
I will always cherish you; and moreso
I will always remember how sometimes you,
Forgetting yourself, and the entire watching world
Let everybody see, so recklessly,
That your love for me was true.
Rani Turton
|
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|