ALL YOU WHO ENTER HERE

featured in the poetry forum July 7, 2022  :: 0 comments

Poem based on Patricia Cronin’s sculpture Memorial of a Marriage.

She struck with her chisel and hammer
To grave on humanity’s doors
Be free of your phobia
And “Judge not”
What do you mean when you say love?
What do you mean when you say equality?
What do you mean when you say marriage?
What do you mean when you speak of sex?
And there was silence in humanity for the space of an hour
And the unloving ones had to put down their stones
That they had taken up in their hands to throw at her
Judged by her work
Seeing the lack of love in themselves
Seeing the lack of good sex in their married lives
Seeing the inequality they practiced in their own partnerships
And the stone rejoiced at what it was made into
And the few stones that were made flesh, then, if any, cried out saying
We need more heart.
Teach us to love with no impediments
Teach us equality
Teach us the meaning of marriage true
Teach us to enjoy the gift of sex
Make us soft and tender inside and show us mercy
Lead us to our feminine sides and vulnerable selves
All due to the power of a giant work of art
That spoke silently made of white Carrara marble
Unforgettable, and of the hands that made it
Art can sometimes strike from seeming hell on seeming heaven’s door
And make us wake up, think and change our preconceived hates
Give up HATE, all you who enter here!

editors note:

Give it up! (We welcome Dr Koshy to our crazy congress of Contributing Poets with this submission. Read more of his madness on his new page – check it out.) – mh clay

Memories

featured in the poetry forum April 26, 2022  :: 0 comments

The white puppy playing around me
dancing, its tail wagging

The spiderlings
hatching
from a thousand eggs

The flames licking at the edges
of poems
burnt
to ashes

The water not hot enough
The lime too much
Both made sweet by love

Haunted by profane loves
lips and breasts unslaked, tasted, ditched

Memories
of ghosts and geishas
in the pell-mell of order that is rust

Blow off the dust, they live,
some even gleam.

editors note:

Some so bright, gotta wear shades. – mh clay

Dinner-menu poem

featured in the poetry forum September 2, 2021  :: 0 comments

The restaurant was called Nalukettu
I went there in a dream
Wonder how many would remember that old scene
The dwarapalikas were alive and dancing
And the table was set for one
As if just for me
They put before me the traditional customary plantain leaf
And brought first a pair of fish eyes
For starters, for good luck
Matsya kanyakas or hilsas
It could be one or the other or both
All the way from Kolkatta
It was going to be a many course meal
I could feel
Shoulder of lamb from Kerala
Fried, dripping in oil
From Thiruvananthapuram
Breast of chicken
From Kottayam
The ham was from somewhere in Rajasthan
Then there was a mixed gourmet dish
Stretching halfway across the world
Camel meat from the Middle East
Smoking burnt black barbecue from New Orleans
Sirloin of cow and thighs of quail meat
A Texan delicacy
Legs of a frog for the end of the meal
From the underworld where the sirens sang and Circe lived
Then washing it down with condensed milk and tender coconut water
Stange menu in a dream
For dinner
I exaggerate not
I eat surreal nightmares
You can call me a cannibal
But it is all just sweet summer flesh
Of cantaloupe and its seeds
Cut in half in jest.

editors note:

Cannibalism with a clear conscience. – mh clay

Cinquain & Tanka

featured in the poetry forum January 10, 2014  :: 0 comments

That scar
under your
breast that no one can see,
left by my mouth, mem’ry of me
Come back

Let the bead curtain
parting, lead you through into
avenues long gone
so that we can walk again
seeking our ghosts, in the park.

editors note:

Two distinct poetic forms, linked to show how scars lead to spirits. – mh clay