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

I have a whole lot of work, but all my thoughts are converged on her……… Sprawling greens in midst of concrete jungle ruins of bygone era,ushering in nostalgia life at breakneck speed frolicking aristocrats loitering politicians a place where you

I cannot trek, my knees give way, The hills do beckon, but home I stay; But when I shut my eyes, I am there On the uneven slopes with the wind in my hair. I stretch, I climb, to the

Silver-green feathers of foxtails, nodding lazily through rusted wire fences, The orange-gold chalice of a single poppy in a sea of tender grass, Meandering sidewalks—charcoal-gray ribbons of asphalt, fractured by weedy cracks— Palm trees and fir trees and the spreading

  Her sparkling Eyes forced me to continue to Live which otherwise I never wanted to Even the sea appears to be thirsty enough to drink the nectar of her beauty Who ever has drawn her sketch has done so

What dwells within the deepest, most utter, most core of one who laughs yet longs for truth and to be true to oneself with another human being…not hiding. But, it is being mentally, emotionally and spiritually naked. It’s frightening, perhaps

Well and does she have some kind of unfinished business Here and What is she looking for? What makes her weep? And weep? Does she not know she lives no more? Oh Lady in White in the darkness in the

I feel sane in a mad world How I wish to be mad like the others I want to hide under the covers And pretend I am free My logic is chaotic here Where fear is power and kindness is

Hmmmmm, Leela ? What would you say ? Leela is the girl who could rule the world Leela is the girl love would embrace Leela is the girl who would spread Oh so much grace Leela is that girl whom

Fernando, I do sincerely extol thee. You were as much passionate in symphony as you were in death, which you faced willfully. Cursed were the cruel war machines that silenced thee. But still to celestial heights they lifted thee. For

We Start every morning like the old Silver Fox We get out of breath putting on our socks We look in the mirror and make such a fuss there’s two old people looking back at us We stumble to the

Oh and in the thick of fog The lighthouse is just a dim Shadow in the night everybody At James Bay knows this is that Time of the year as the ocean Rages with fury from the storm The Ghost

What is enduring love? Thought she And does it exist for such as me Is this the greatest GIFT to give That makes hearts sing and spirits lift Enduring love, survives all pain Thriving like a flower in summer’s rain

Stop laughing Start crying Stop trying Start dying Giving up Now giving in All because you think you can’t win This race isn’t yours You don’t keep score Anymore You hit the floor You say “I can’t and won’t take

Every 20 seconds, its lonely voice cries Out to someone it will never meet like an ancient voice, never ceasing Through the cold rain and silent darkness Standing, waiting, as patient as time How many a forlorn sailor heard its

The rain clouds rushed in dark rage Shapeless masses, swollen and drunk Sudden outpour of a pearly lace Raindrops weaving me a precious sight. Lo, from blissful loom, the warp of heaven Threading through each coconut palm Spinning live yarns

Except you and me, Everyone slept in midnight. O, lovely, Nolhivaram, … what is left, me alone. Vultures of universe, Flying around, Left a little, for you and me. The innocent children, Mind tortured, Roaring at me, A taste of

Doomed’ With an explosion of meteors crashing into a toxic swamp both planets were shocked with the wave of unexpected parasites sending a stream of anger through the new found land through the sinking sand a gem was found this

Dreams: dreams Very dangerous dreams die, The absence of a target, the obsession to be buried in a pile of sand, Wake up in the morning to carry around all day life, Curse lives on in the night and go

And so in darkness shines the light That pierces through those fears. And fights The beat of doubting pangs that plagues This passionate heart. Our souls are quenched when you are here In warmth, in love In Eucharistic prayer. So

Heart dies a death, very painful and slow Shedding every tiny leaf of hope Until no marks show Nothing remains then, Days pass by and then years after years The memories of the past flowing in tears You try to

Some days, I drown like a piece of paper to the bottom of the valley that has stains of my fear. Some days are harder than the rest and floating becomes my only quest, brewing has no reason and I

Babygirl You hide behind this “couldn’t care less” facade, just to prove to everyone you’re someone you’re not. You cling to social media for validation, like you can’t see your worth without their attention. Affection, you call it, when they

If I starve you eat If I pour you drink If I am naked you are warm If I am hurt you are safe If I cry you smile If I am honored you are blessed If I am wounded