My Solitude To Whom I Belong: Poem

My Solitude, To Whom I Belong

My solitude to whom I belong

Like a  love that is both fragile and strong.

My solitude, fine and fire-ridden

Came at twilight, unbidden.

 

Impossible to keep you at bay.

You just could not stay away.

You became mine, in spite of it all.

Ah, I did not even have to call.

 

I have felt your shadow merge with mine.

I have felt your footsteps echo my own.

Sometimes at twlight I heard your voice.

At times I would almost rejoice.

 

There were moments in strange cities

On frozen pavements, along grey seas

Under dripping skies, angular beautiful trees

My solitude would seek to please.

 

Ah, my solitude to whom I belong

Tells me there is no right or wrong;

Tells me I am not alone, but strong.

Then sings to me in a soft, low song.

 

Copyright: Rani Turton

When I Am Alone: Poem

When I Am Alone

When I am alone, not troubled by extraneous grief;
nor substantial melancholy. Surrounded by birdsong
Not troubled by bitter pain, as children
Run back and forth with cricket bats
And women with babies look athe world
With serenity and trust; as the sun gently
Goes down and birds fly back to their nests
As I am alone in different climes and wonder
If I have got used to solitude or is it just that
Solitude has gotten used to me.

When I am alone, not troubled by extraneous grief;
The breeze is like a soft caress on my cheek.
I am alone, I watch the river flow:
I watch this solitude, and all that I know.

Copyright: Rani Turton
 

Uncertain: Poem

Uncertain

I am not so sure anymore
Not so certain that it can work;
Life that was once, so simple and straight
Has turned into vast, complicated fate.

I analysed in pondering might:
My mind was strong and fine;
But sudden darkness eclipsed the light.
Thus my fine mind took flight.

Then with rocky imperfect rhymes
I wanted to mingle with the mist,
Strange melancholy and the rain:
Forget those years of struggle and pain.

Now night has come softly.
The time to wander, and try to unravel
The skeins of destiny’s plan,
From before, now, and how it began.

Copyright (text and image): Rani Turton

Oh, Melancholy: Poem

.

Oh, Melancholy

You almost tempted me

On wet city streets, in grey city nights

To trust uncaring strangers

Yes, those city knights.

 

Oh, Melancholy, you are my love

I have walked, talked and sung to you;

Years and years have gone by.

Melancholy: I was savage and shy.

 

One day I waited near the river

I saw you pass by on the bridge.

You were all I had ever dreamed of

Me, walking on the river’s edge.

 

I almost lost, ever in love, but

Never, never really wise;

Lost in romantic dreams,

I wished to believe in your passionate lies.

 

When I saw you walking by

On the bridge, your face in shadow

I knew then, you would always

Follow me, go where I go.

 

Touch me with soft, gentle hands

And often take my pain

Letting me believe that

You could dissolve it in the city rain

 

That you would speak to me

And I would for once understand:

My emotions would surge

As we walked on hand in hand.

 

Years later now, I still have you

In every shadow, mirror, poetic line

Oh, melancholy, you know

You will always be mine, only mine

 

Copyright: Rani Turton

Poets: Poem

Poets Poets have no tools, never No tangible tools that is to say Some people even call them fools Poets have a different worldview Built on emotions, sensations, lacerations Splinters of pain And all that the heart holds to be true. . Poets have no right way or wrong way (Its true that they often lose their way anyway) : Poetry has always been difficult to define Scrambled thoughts, scrambled lines That is to say Perfect lines, perfect rhymes Clockwork metric thoughts and thou and thine Stanzas, couplets and all the rest of it My emotions flew jagged against the sky My thoughts often threatened to run away Like me; I speak about pain and despair People who are going to die Corpus callosum, existence ad infinitum Transient joy, the rainbow arching Spectral armies marching Tramping, tramping down history’s worn-out lanes And the lines in a stranger’s face His apparent despair, his evident pain Jerk me from those absolute, imperfect rhymes I am myself corpus callosum-like again. . COPYRIGHT: Rani Turton

Ideas, Ideals And Delusions

Ideas, ideals And Delusions

I have some notions of nothingness
I have some ideals of illusions
Into the abyss then with these thoughts
My ideas, ideals and delusions.

I can sweep away those cob-webbed dreams
Wipe clean every troublesome image
But nothing, nothing ever again
Can help me really turn the page

There are persistant and resistant matters
That will come back like a boomerang
Like a half-latched door in a tempest
That will continue to maddeningly bang

Away then and into the vast starry night
I will somehow continue to live;
My ideals of illusions, my dreams of delusions
Can also help to make me survive.

Copyright: Rani Turton

My Solitary Self: Poem

My Solitary Self

I asked my solitary self, shy, splendid and sad
What to do wth the rest of my life;
My solitary self, debating with being and existing
And  unravelling sundry strife.

My solitary self, aloof at times
Decided to ask my soul when and where
My brain and body could join in
And finally all griefs to share.

Wisdom, wherever it lies,
Perplexed by this intellectual discussion
Asked my solitary self to flee
All complicated abnegation.

So, alone with my solitary self,
Again I let my mind wander winsome and wild;
Slowly walking on mile after mile:
And then I saw my solitary self smile.

Copyright: Rani Turton

Paths That Lead Somewhere: Poem

Paths That Lead Somewhere Paths that lead somewhere; do they know where they go? Do they think of the pebbles and the thorns That can wound your feet; do they imagine Or ever ponder that distances are not the reason You set out alone: that solitude could have made you Retrace your steps fast enough if you had known. If you had known that paths that lead you somewhere But do not guide you along; sing, sing a lonely song; That paths are just tracks, trails to be followed And life is still to be walked along. Copyright: Rani Turton

For Tonight: Poem

For Tonight

For tonight, thoughts will cease
For once my blood and body will try to please
My mind and its outpourings; for tonight the world

And its satellite technology can spin its way.
Planets, stars and other celestial bodies
Can leave their trail in the sky;
For why should this persona, that is I
Always try to touch their orbits. That is, my body
And my soul divine must sometimes try
To remain detached, insignificant and not sigh

Eternally after the great, the grandiose and after all the supernova
Can blind the eye and then fade;
Silence in the galaxy, its light can reach millions after centuries

The bright and the dull, light and shade
My poetry has for reason an illogical emotion
That words beyond season, time and rhyme
Touch hearts and minds just for a short year at a time
And then fade.

Copyright: Rani Turton

Home As Distant As The Nearest Star: Poem

Home, As Distant As The Nearest Star

Home, as distant as the nearest star;
Stare at the star and the distance
Seems within reach of the naked eye;
Stare at the star, and you become a celestial clone
In your mind. As far as the sun
As near as nowhere.
Distances that are arbitary, relative
Subject to the extent of the pain
That cloud the pulse, your heart.

Home, as distant as the nearest star,
Sparkling like tears
On a hot moonlight night.
Shining like a lake at night
Lamps that light the way until
The paths get tangled and lost.

Copyright: Rani Turton