Doorstep Poems

I stand at my doorstep, Eyes straining on the very path you walked by… I wait to hear those footsteps retreating, back to me, you in my arms again… I shut the door, sighing. I then hear a soft knock;

It’s those sultry days that sooth my soul, In the searing heat, empty like after birth we would bath, Fear of appearing odd, the taste of the sweet waters, Oblivious of each other’s different destiny, Our foggy minds leading the

A sparkling path was chosen by one, providing mature wines for the cultured, elegant polished restaurants, operas of critical acclaim, endless parties for the ordained elite, cars which navigated and spoke, manicured sprawling homes, and… Shoes… closets and closets of

Our father left us while we were young We could not clean our own stable And we did not know how to But we knew how to protect our color. Our mother separated us for the reason You had to

If you find no poem on your doorstep in the morning, no paper, no knock on your door, your life poorly edited but no broken dashes or injured meter- If you do not wear white satin dresses late in life

Do you deem it courage? Or is it a kind of outrage Sparking off the blood-hued flares Igniting all particles of wrath present in the air Curses etched on the strips of little paper Nailed into the cloth flesh of

I walk down the bridge Whispering to my restless mind About your last night’s talk And those unfeeling hands of innocence The night eglantine smiles In its usual way At my timid inexpressive desire And the love filled eyes of

Running punctuality and just enough, under loyalty, The way the northern winds blew my skirts was seen by a youthful sun, mouthing expletives, It was under that noon, I met thee. Racing against cold blankets from afar, and fighting cocooned

Confused , lost , bloodshot eyes , A wanderer insomniac driven premise , Supreme anxiety , thumping palpitations, Pointless life dictated inhibitions , I Came at your doorstep, A depressed human being , A lifeless soul, Devoid of objectives ,

This is the road that leads to my father’s home It is old and dusty with bullock-carts creaking, Carrying the heavy weight of the freshly cut sugar-cane To the mills nearby for our sugar laden tables, Piled in our court-yards

One summer’s eve in Spain, I fled through an open window, Butterflies aflight In the very pit of me, And I tramped the streets, My heart abrim With such a love, But a love now long gone. With my final

Poems are reveries that call you by name. Like all true loves they arrive in spite of who you are, at your doorstep. Nothing needs to be done except to stay with your longing. They are miracles of compassion; they

In the arms of love, A beautiful untold story A loud silence that broke every barrier, The askance of the heart and its myriad worry Sojourning the barren mirth to make life merrier. Love’s wings summoned the romantist from Canada

He sat on the floor of his old room, his back Against the wall – everything was gone And the room said nothing though it had heard everything He’d ever said or thought, declared or mumbled under his breath The

It was afternoon hot on summer mid And the sky was blazing with unspeakable boiling, But still was graced with pound of clouds Which bore timid promises to overcome the summer damages. Then it was coming of rain like an

though moo cho yars older, i (bovine cuddly name = hay4four at aol dot com), could feign 2b a frat house bro by undergoing a facial augmentation – despite lacking dough unlike the multimillionaires here in lower merion, where a

Roses are red and violets are blue, I’ve run out of violets, for the violets were you. Since the roses turned black the flowers have died, You left me on my doorstep, you saw that I cried. But lilies turn

When the bloodshed starts at the doorstep of solemn silence, give me a lone engagement with the invisible to unchain the split heart. I will take away the pain from home and come back in failing light when a star

My lonely heart loses its way Always looks for a one, Wandering here and there Gets a mirage, but not a real one. Oh!!! Exhausted feelings that come And life becomes lifeless for a while, No way to stop, but

That magical high, Flying up to the sky, But when it’s time to say bye, And you are no longer fried, You feel like you want to die. An evil pill shall kill, It can be legally filled, But don’t

Stop! — don’t! — I need not your help. Don’t look down I do care for myself. Just go! — Left me alone If you will have no care Just let myself be prone. I will have no wonder If

Hail to you o gracious guest The most awaited and cherished Alighting majestically onto the earth With splendid ceremony of a real king Whose eventful advent does signal A fast retreat of the winter chill That has been rather unkind

I love you so very much Even though at times I do things that hurt. I try so hard to hope that you always see, How much you being in my life means to me. I am sorry yet again

I just can’t ever run away from you You’re always present everywhere I go It is your face on people that I see A shadow anywhere that I may be I sleep amidst your memory in bed You figured in

Ideology of life For every husband and wife Is to be sincere Direct and clear As simple as give So that children live Grow and endure With minds so pure Righteously think right Stars of the night Spreading light to

(Written for my little brother Eric, Feb. ’85, when I was 14). As he cuddled softly in my arms like a helpless young fawn, I could feel his heart race with fear and see his fists clench with every boom

How could someone like you? Ever love someone like me… Well you must be an Angel A miracle sent to me from Heaven above as hard as it Is to believe, just when I had All but given up on

Community divisions Shatter all livings Trust, respect and honor One and each other You do not need a donor You need a good mother Kids would learn by watching Much more than they learn by listening The value of trust

After seeding the clouds they were going to buy wet lips. Seven minutes to make a bomb: a micro-chip, ammonium nitrate and a circuit, one headless body squirts a long jet of blood. Run, run for the cover, with nuggets

I’ve been led to believe That love is a dream An inconsistent need Or that was how it seemed I was told it’d be perfect I was told and left set With a thought of divergent And words better yet

To raise myself little by little up to the blackbird’s nest already forgotten by God my long hair more and more rough and salty to wrap it around the bird as if a dry tree’s twigs to feed it from

Is it madness to want to speak to and smile at the people we meet on the streets, as we pass each other, our eyes to the ground, complaining on tired achy feet. Is it madness for our children to

Nightfall over the temple grounds A full moon expressionless without a sound Grudgingly grants its pale luminance Obviously tired of its nightly performance A starry canopy of quietness and tranquility Punctuated by harmonious chanting of such gentility Silhouettes of monks

Once, my tongue reached out Deep towards your heart In search of all the pain And dirt And grief And desires And the philosopher’s stone. In search of all that That made you seek me out Amongst the crowd of

She is the whole world to me She is middle aged, still looks young She possesses wrinkles, yet is the most beautiful She is the lady with courage and strength She strives for patience and perseverance She believes “Work is

heartbeat time flows swiftly by- distilling within that certain pain inherent in understanding a depth of grief is felt upon a fellow voyager’s departure- somehow balanced by its magnetic partner- joy sorrow slips in and out as we move through-

Well I came to know you just a week or so ago And you seemed different than the others but After you got what you wanted you didn’t want Me anymore, I should’ve known you were just Another player… And

He is a mischief monger But a close friend of mine That day he was working on my computer He pushed subtract button in a way That despite my utmost efforts It never came up And there was a series

You’re so good. “your imperfections make you perfect.” you said that to me. is this how family trees begin? I can’t say something that I don’t know I want to know to know everything I want to know if you’ll

I may be a mother, I may be a sister I may be a daughter, I may be a wife I may be a friend or I may be any part of your life You see me always around you

Hope in the determinism of love Choosing sides Scallop prayers in the masses Electric angels crossing the war Free will Numbered days Her streets are the labyrinths of regret We meet in a science fiction gun show Minds are weapons