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Poems By Poet Rani Turton  2/7/2012 2:17:14 AM
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  33.     

So Far

So far, the roads and rues and avenues
Told me, more or less in their jagged way
With their signposts that zigzag here and there
Where to go in my own inimitable way.

There were people who tried, and tired
Left my side: there were moments of grace
But I kept on at my pace.

And weary of it all, I thought
After having come so far

Not to tire out, not to fade out
Without finding what destiny is all about.

Copyright: Rani Turton
 
Rani Turton
   
 

   
   
 

  34.     

Some Roads Lead Home

Some roads go forwards, backwards, onwards
Tracing the planet like leylines; some can circle the earth
Several times; roads, lanes, paths and country gullies
And vast ocean routes around the globe
All these territories I can roam.

But only one, only one path leads home.

Earth, sky, land and astral route
I will follow, the sound of that distant flute
I will come, when I am ready;
Soon; my steps are still unsteady.

There are proverbs and wisdom's ways
I know nothing of all that: I followed my heart
There were soothsayers and phantoms
All blocking my path; there were the rationalists
And technicians who negated my soul.
I will come, when I feel whole.

Roads and routes, paths and lanes
Sprinkle earth's body like veins;
One day I will arrive at journey's end
There nurse this pain and this heart finally mend.

Copyright: Rani Turton
 
Rani Turton
   
 

   
   
 

  35.     

Today I Felt Like Sylvia Plath - I

Today I felt like Sylvia Plath.
The triteness of the present took my breath away.

Indifferent faces, hurrying, jostling on this anonymous street
My thoughts were fractal, I stood alone
Unable to keep up with those hurrying feet.

Why does life go on this way.
Where do people go to, these hustling crowds?
Where do I go to when I am alone?

I've no gifts of repartee; no, not even enough sense
Not to handle hot coals. All my life I've fought
And rebelled...and often lost.

In this twilight world, things are left undone.
In this silent world my brain fumbles and tries
To write, to form, reform and conform.

Thus, shutting out the present, drawing the blinds
I write these lines, trite, but I tried
Today I felt like Sylvia Plath.

Copyright: Rani Turton
 
Rani Turton
   
 

   
   
 

  36.     

Walk Slowly Through Bowered Lanes

Walk slowly through bowered lanes; who knows
How many years are left to us to gaze,
To feel, to decide?

Feel the rain on upturned head, the sun
Blazing onto winter bleached skin?
And then who knows if, when night comes
The sun will rise the next day?

Walk slowly through bowered paths.
Walk straight, with eyes that see
The skin on fingers ready to touch
The soul deserves that much.

Copyright: Rani Turton
 
Rani Turton
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Rani Turton