|
|
|
Best Poems From
SHANTO ARMONDE
(15, May - 1987)
|
|
| |
|
|
5.
|
A Human Illusion
The illusions of hereafter,
Those of heaven and those of hell,
Checks our lusts and lives.
Yet we treasure such fantasies
So fervently, ardently and
Ever so blindly.
The realms we create, and the ends
We hope for, serve to keep madness
At bay, when we're lost.
For what else will afford us warmth,
When we all face the tragedy
Of age, but our dreams?
Shanto Armonde
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
6.
|
A Message
A slave to ones heart but king of men
March can he not into dangers den.
Break the shackles of fate that bind one down
And upon one can then no one frown.
Living lives that destiny controls,
Knowledge of better they do not posses.
All they do is play their roles.
A life inconsequential, so purposeless.
Two eyes and a smile, carved to perfection,
Are, indeed, the ultimate tools of deception.
Love and hate both come from the heart.
Man and malice Only death can make them part.
What would be the meaning
To live a life devoid of laughter,
Where loneliness is the only feeling,
And none live happily ever after?
A time of ruin and heartless reign,
When good has failed and the wicked gain.
If such a day does arrive, nothing can be done
All one can say is evil, be gone.
Shanto Armonde
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
7.
|
A Portrait Of Despair
Hair sparse, grey and weak,
Forehead marked by a life so bleak.
His bushy brows were curved by regret
Of a middling life that all would forget.
Eyes, desperate and dull, saddened to see
The joy forgone, the man he could be.
The chilling breath his nostrils drew,
Added to his grief and paled his hue.
Lips dry, lacking any color or care,
Long unkissd, frowning in despair.
Hands torn, scratched by tools and toil,
Symbols they were of his life of turmoil.
Shoulders shrunken, from the burden of sorrow,
Beyond waited another day, a sadder tomorrow.
Heart heavy with all of lifes miseries,
Beating bravely, until the rhythm began to cease.
But starvd of love and dear lover
Left it throbbing in vain, and without power.
All his life he laboured a lot and lived a little
Until he was old, and his bones were brittle.
Brought to the ground as his gaunt limbs relented
He cursed the heavens for the life he resented.
Shanto Armonde
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
8.
|
Aegean Tears
Before spreads the pure sea-sight
Blue embraced by the dying sunlight
From this high cliff-edge I call
To thundering Zeus: 'avert his fall'
The happy immortal and lawgiver
In whose name many a young heifer
Had I put to peace
I ask:
Where the sea touches the sky
Let my son's ships come by
And have the leading one in white sail
Be blown full by the northern gale
Let gallant Theseus take my crown
My castle too and exceed my renown
Let his children gather around his knees
Oh high Olympus dwellers, heed my dire pleas
But now I see against the red heavens
And my heart leaps, joy awakens!
Brave black ships, they have arrived!
Rising, restoring color to a face deprived
But
The heart leaps once more, but this time
In fright at the gods ungodly crime
Black sails I sight, and blacker my soul becomes
My core beats like the loud war-drums
And soon my view is by tears obscured
By this grief that cannot be endured
No son to carry my name, my riches and kingdom ended
Was it worth for such an adventure, a prince expended?
My tears fly into the ocean, my cries towards the gods
But unlike earth and water, my mind is not at odds
Off to Hades I am, to reunite with my son
To ask him what had him undone
Was it the labyrinth where he lost his way?
Or was it the beast, had he failed to slay?
But most I want to embrace him declare
That we are reunited by my despair!
Shanto Armonde
|
| |
|
|
|
|
|
|