Shloka Shankar
A Selection of Extraction Poetry...
Life
Extracted from ee cumming's poem, "If"
You and I
Exreacted from T. S. Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock"
Pools of Joy
Extracted from Emily Dickinson's poem "I can wade through"
A Selection of Poems...
Death RainsThe city looks
sullen and crimson bathing in the moonlight with paws stretching out in the form of sky-scrapers flashes of lightning threaten the homeless and the harlots into vacant plots, or worse still, oblivion the moon looks red this night, and as if calling out to me, she whispers, “I’m bleeding” shafts of light shoot through the sky like meteors and I realize mankind is soon going to pay for his onslaught on Nature. We are no Wordsworth: we wait calmly and patiently in the false security of our homes, cringing from devastation a lone tree gazes back at me as I stare out the window and it seems frail, ready to be brutally felled I smirk, wince, and go back to sleep. At Shool
Suzie Meddlehead once went
to shool and stirred up a terri-berri mess! Her muffer gave her a bag with books and kleens and bid her a faire adieu. She reached her class and saw ole’ Jack who looked like a whimperloo! ‘What’s the hatter with you, silly?’ she baked! ‘Oh, I’m higgledy-piggledy, Sue’ he whiskered. ‘That’s bawd!’ she said with downcast hair. ‘What can I do to make thungs worse?’ she chirped ‘I want to go away, Sue. I don’t laike it hear’ he cuckled. She saw the teacher walk in and stood uprote with a cherry smile on her visage. ‘Miss, may I take Jack to hell?’ she asked with conjunction. ‘But what’s the latter, Suzie?’ the teacher lightninged. ‘Miss, I want my mommy!’ said Jack, his vice tailoring. ‘Awright, awright! You can go, but only on one injection. Can you deride your alkabet?’ And thus, liffle Jack bedang… ‘Aye, Bye, Cya, Dya, Eya, Eff…Zeyad’ ‘Now oft you go, dong bard!’ said the teacher distilling him. Jack randered off as Suzie remained dreamy-eyed in shool. Mr. and Mrs.
She knew how he
wanted his things: in place, all shiny and museum-like, never once a speck of dust covering them or disarrayed in any way. He knew what she needed the most: like a little bird that flitted around the house, his heart was her nest; cozy, untidy and all hers. |
Vertrag, 1919
Wounded egos sought
repairs while the victors remained undefeated. The Allies seemed heavy-handed and the opposite camp was routed. Peace or no peace, war had ended. Faith fled the honest Christian, anarchy reigned, demons were resurrected and power enthralled all. Prufrock stood heralding the new nation. Five Line Poems
The river meanders
seemingly unaware of its current... never looking back all the while. The stars shine effusively in an attempt to touch human lives -- now threadbare with the approaching night. A cold wintry day sets my hairs on end; wistfully playing the coquette, the breeze tantalizingly caresses me. The river meanders seemingly unaware of its current... never looking back all the while. Lock and KeyA gentle breeze sets
the curtains aflutter and the door begins to close in on itself the lights in the hallway are turned off and the narrow gap below my door licks the darkness clean howling in the next street, a dog doggedly looks for its scent while I curl deeper under the covers ruminating about the shadows lurking behind my soul, calling out to me stealthily, inviting me to join them as I parade my sporadic strains of madness kept under lock and key. Stairs
A quick
chill runs down my spine when I see you. |