tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-308584082011-04-21T19:51:45.642-07:00Random attempts at poetrymaking...Leena Prasadnoreply@blogger.comBlogger71100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30858408.post-81859411176339434932008-04-03T14:10:00.000-07:002008-04-19T21:15:29.192-07:00<span class="entry-title entry-content"> divine love, is<br />sun beams, releasing<br />anger frustrations, and<br />all tensions, from<br />crevices in my body, with<br />no expectations, only<br />generosity.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30858408-8185941117633943493?l=norhymeandnoreason.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Leena Prasadnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30858408.post-61249233979951542692007-04-23T22:11:00.000-07:002007-05-09T10:51:13.969-07:00Kurt<br />Two days before you died<br />I discovered a new book of essays by you<br />one of the few English books in a store -<br />in Lisbon.<br /><br />You’d probably say that it was pure coincidence<br />but maybe you wouldn’t.<br /><br />Either way <br />over the years<br />I’ve grown fond of you<br />your sense of humor<br />your original thoughts<br />and the fact that you said<br />“God damn it, you’ve got to be kind”<br /><br />if I had met you,<br />I’m sure I would have fallen head over heels – <br />maybe even literally.<br /><br />I wonder what it must be like<br />to have breakfast with you?<br /><br />Do you have a short temper<br />or none at all?<br />What’s the worst thing that you ever said to anyone?<br /><br />What would your son, The Doctor, say about you?<br /><br />Are you in heaven?<br />You know I had to say that :)<br /><br />Wherever you are<br />You’ve changed the world<br />my world, anyway.<br /><br />How could you die?<br />I wasn’t ready –<br />April 11, 2007<br /><br />...and, so it goes...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30858408-6124923397995154269?l=norhymeandnoreason.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Leena Prasadnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30858408.post-5961895751723803742007-01-06T11:17:00.000-08:002007-05-03T22:16:29.555-07:00she touched the arm to feel the pain<br />except <br />there was no arm there<br />only a memory, a ‘ghost’ limb.<br /><br /> <em>she touched his arm to feel the comfort<br /> except <br /> there was no arm there<br /> only a memory, a ‘ghost’ lover.</em><br /><br />it had only been a few minutes<br />since the tiger had chewed it off – <br />all of it.<br /><br /> <em>it had only been a few days<br /> since he had chewed off the ties –<br /> all of it.</em><br /><br />one moment<br />a few seconds<br />her right arm.<br /><br /> <em>one moment<br /> a few seconds<br /> his entire presence.</em><br /><br />a trusted friend<br />yet a tiger after all<br />tasted blood and couldn’t stop.<br /><br /> <em>a trusted friend<br /> yet a man after all<br /> tasted blood and couldn’t stop.</em><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30858408-596189575172380374?l=norhymeandnoreason.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Leena Prasadnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30858408.post-1158598066151822832006-09-17T22:46:00.000-07:002006-09-18T09:51:22.576-07:001915, The Mending Walls, Robert Frost<br />“Something there is that doesn’t love a wall"<br /><br /><br />1989<br />it came tumbling down<br />in a feast of pleasure<br />and possibilities…<br />…riots of colors on the free West<br />the painted wall<br />now preserved in pieces at the border.<br /><br />1992<br />an egalitarian internet browser<br />tears through the barricades…<br />…a chain-link reaction of eroding borders<br />with virtual highways and bridges.<br /><br />2000<br />Chinese and East-Indian faces<br />populate the valley of silicon dreams<br />east-west differences<br />melting away in the heat <br />of hi-tech passions<br /><br /><br />2002<br />Israel completes the construction <br />enclosing more space than occupied<br />marching ‘forward’ <br />via self-preservation in self-isolation.<br /><br />yet,<br />tears and blood flood the wall<br />overflow into the homes of the world<br />a category-5 storm of human suffering<br /><br />2005<br />my country, my home<br />steeped in melting pot, salad bowl <br />metaphors<br />wants to build a wall<br />to stop the migration of people<br />who lay down the bricks everyday <br />in our backyard—<br />who is it that we want to keep out,<br />us or them?<br /><br /><br />1915, The Mending Walls, Robert Frost (laments)<br /> “Good fences make good neighbors.”<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30858408-115859806615182283?l=norhymeandnoreason.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Leena Prasadnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30858408.post-1156748378916839552006-07-16T01:20:00.000-07:002006-08-27T23:59:38.926-07:00orange gladiolas<br />and crisp rain drops<br />outside on the terrace<br />in a vase<br />in a glass vase<br />thin glass<br />sqare shape <br />like a large cookie jar<br /><br />soft smell<br />fresh<br /><br />closer up.<br /><br />ummmm...<br /><br />crash!<br /><br />orange gladiolas<br />and the perfumed hardwood floor.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30858408-115674837891683955?l=norhymeandnoreason.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Leena Prasadnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30858408.post-1152422809536605552006-07-08T22:26:00.000-07:002006-07-08T22:27:34.016-07:00in the temple<br />where the symbols of God<br /><br /><em>breasts<br />hair<br />earlobes<br />feet<br />underarms<br />penis<br />neck<br />palm<br />vagina<br />lips<br />eyes...<br /></em><br />demand endless sacrifice<br />we bring offerings of Listerine and Soap<br />mixed with immortal wishes and mortal desires<br />we forget.<br /><br />we forget that we had come to the temple<br />to find something else<br />and leave disappointed...<br /><br />the ecstasy of seeing the statues<br />worshipping them with all our strength<br />leaves us exhausted<br />we mistake the statue for God<br />and leave in despair<br />blind, innocent,<br />like a child not knowing that the worship is just the beginning...<br /><br />not the end.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30858408-115242280953660555?l=norhymeandnoreason.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Leena Prasadnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30858408.post-1152422277251233902006-06-14T22:10:00.000-07:002006-12-14T08:40:07.656-08:00“Do you want to explode?”<br /><br />The word reverberate<br />R-e-s-o-n-a-t-e<br /><br />From the body<br />to the soul,<br /><br />On June 6, 1999<br />Promises of Love, recklessly offered.<br /><br /><br />And taken away - <br />no warning, no protection<br /><br />Words…<br />like escapees from a prison;<br />unleashed onto the innocent.<br /><br />Leaving behind<br />…rippling implosions.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/30858408-115242227725123390?l=norhymeandnoreason.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Leena Prasadnoreply@blogger.com0