Poems and Poetry

Lawn Chair Lyric | A Poem by JD DeHart

It has rained all day
again and the neighbors
are getting restless

Last year, they aimed
fireworks at the other
houses

They arrive in caravans,
nomads in their own homes,
coming in and going out
at strange hours

Their headlights flash
across my wall when I
cannot find sleep

Now, there is fresh cut grass
being washed down the road

and they are nowhere to see.

Visit JD at http://jddehartwritings.blogspot.com.

The Monster of Something More | A Poem by P.K. Deb

The monster of something more
pulls instantly tongue out of mouth
of the protruding eyes
looking at other alluring stuff
and compels it to wild breathing
making ashamed even a dog – a pet or wild
yet it feels good
to deduct the feeble
from the competition
trampling them mercilessly in mad hustle
and piling them into a stack
to climb up to the level of abundance;
to cheat the friends of same dish in conspiracy
throwing them in the cobweb of bankruptcy,
to fuel and exercise its monopoly power
in killing the rivals in conflict
tempting the God fearing too
to go under devil
to worship it and gain its black blessings
and fly smokes and greed up and up
combined with sharp nails of carbon and desires
to pinch the ozone-layer in the sky
and leak our hearts too
to bade goodbye to oxygen and life
from the body of ozone-layer and mankind at last…

Mind Your Own Business | A Poem by P.K. Deb

Benevolent arguments-
delivered by foretelling tongues
ought to be placed on heart and soul
yet these are rewarded a prompt rejection
by even the cavities of the new ears,
as these don’t hold water
to the eyes-
just opened in a fresh morning
brought about by an innovative sunshine
to witness one another
as shameless and careless
holding hammers in their green hands
to grind the white feelings of the old hearts.
‘’Mind your own business’’
the young sound wave pierces
the old tongues-
habituated to have a finger in their pie
whether fresh or rotten
for more purification,
but holding their heads high,
the fresh hearts
hold their pie well and have the cheek
to show the burnt eyes a white pigeon
nesting in the gap
existing
between the new and the old hearts
termed and nurtured of late
as the generation gap
making many brimful hearts absolutely vacant.