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Dance The Slow Music, The Sandstorm Swirls

The sandstorm swirls, pebbles and sand
Hitting dour walls
Dance, dance the slow music
Elements appeasing music
Music appeasing elements

Pulse and body and sand
The music is one with the sand that whirls
Hide, hide the face that burns
Close, close the eyes that burn
Because of the storm in the city
No more passion, no more pity
There were mirages with shimmering paths
There were trodden truths and treacherous theories
And home's horizons far, far away.

Dance the slow music
Cease the howling wind, the phantoms
Of the sand that can speak with strange gifts
The old man on his rope-bed with bleary eyes

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poem by Rani Turton
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When, In Deep Despair

When in deep despair, melancholy takes my hand
Carresses my cheek gently and for the life of me
The words don't come and I cannot speak

The words like still pools reflect dark moonless nights
Emotions that have plundered and run away
To mountain hideouts

Sensitivity and argument
Music and metronomy
Strings and wood
Voices and fingers

Leave me thus shaken by their power
Of enchantment; all that I saw and read
Felt and dreamt here and there and everywhere

When in deep despair I think of my mother's love
And my old father who always asks for me
In spite of my age; the trust and devotion

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poem by Rani Turton
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I Heard My Destiny Speak In An Unknown Tongue

I heard my destiny walking beside me, I heard
It speaking in an unknown tongue; I asked for ways
And where; I spoke as well as I could in
What I thought could be language it could understand.
I saw my destiny befuddled, sometimes sure
Of it’s stride, and sometimes stumbling as
I walked beside.

I heard my destiny sigh, almost as weary as I.
Then I kept the questions to myself
All my queries were as pointless and why
Should destiny explain to each and every one?
We exist, and then we go
Maybe far, far into the sky.

Tell me where to go and when
Tell me why, how and the means to get there.
I am just a bit of blood and bone
Without you my flesh is bare.

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poem by Rani Turton
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Sixty Hours

Smoke, blasts, billowing clouds
Billowing curtains from carved windows
The railway station now also has it's widows.

The city, in a daze, unable to grasp
Daily life has stopped; now suddenly
Mumbai, in a stupor tries to awake from
This nightmare without an end.

One dawn, many down.
Second dawn, many down
Third dawn, day has come
What will this city become?

Sixty hours of tears, fears and passion
Sixty hours of waiting, hoping for compassion
The rat-tat-tat carries on, carries on
The loved ones have go on to become
Victims, heroes, or statistics
When the day is finally,

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poem by Rani Turton
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From Rana to Rani

My Rani say we two should play upon shared lily pad,
with well webbed nails, fly dinner pails, nought fails to make us glad.
While night and day I’ll Rana play hip hop with tadpoles young,
air debonnaire while you croak fair, stick insects with slick tongue,

I always may your roundelay repeat in pond competing
I’ll never stray from your side, stay, win fond completing
In stream or lake fair pair we’ll make, a baritonal greeting
loves thirst shall slake and keep awake the countryside, minds meeting.

Each day I’ll log on life’s frog blog, on log or nenuphar,
When you are far, on shooting star, I wish to pool our power,
and splash in spa, in stream and tarn, flash through love’s cinema,
spend every hour in misty shower, with you true bliss none mar.

My Rani, pray, please name the day we two on lily pad
may sultry air share free from care, our offspring never sad,
let bells be rung, your praise be sung, the marshy reeds among, -
be welcome, come, together strum as here my tale’s well hung.

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Woman’s beauty nonplusing

The beauty of women is a deadly, lethal weapon.
No sages, no emperors were spared.
Meneka sent Biswamitra insane.
Tomb of Begum Mumtaj is the world wonder.
War was bought on Chittoor Rani Padmini.
Rani Gayatri Devi of Jaipur swayed by her beauty.
Marlin Manro, Shophia Loron, countless women
Stood by their beauties and made havoc on men.

To beautify Indian women, were prescribed sola [sixteen]singara.
Bindi- on forehead to point out the third eye.
Necklace- to bring to view neck down.
Eardrops- to tantalize the viewers.
Flowers- to contrast the hue of the hair.
Bangles- to demand a hold of the hand.
Armlet- to invite an embrace.
Ring- to invite to clasp.
Waistband- to narrow the waist.
Anklet- to vibrate lustful sound.
Kohl- to catch the eyes by the eyes.

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poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Rani Sonata

Rani
It is the last day of
January
February will be here on
Monday
People are saying that spring will be here
In 3 months

poem by Aldo Kraas
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Ghost

If you can
Love me...
Like the way
SRK loved
Rani in the
Movie Paheli
I would rather
Wish you were
A ghost than a
Human to me ;)

poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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I am yours

I am yours, .
you are mine.
would that the result,
come forth fine.
O' my heart's king!
have you no queen?
if you need it,
I may offer myself,
but,
pass a smile to me,
pay a slight wink,
try to join a link,
I would like to be,
your queen.
only your queen.
.....................................

poem by Rani Madhubala
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Reflections-3

1 Sand

Ages and yores sprayed
Glint of God gleaming in grains
Vast spread varied hues

2 Shore

Restless Rani rues
Set ashore her way his heart
Silicon Raja

3 Salt

Preservative His
To save and savour this mud
His taste of our hearts

4 Surf

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poem by Indira Renganathan
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