I Left My Heart Somewhere: Poem

I Left My Heart Somewhere

I left my heart somwhere.
I searched for it night, and day.

I waited for the Unknown.
Just to take me far, far away.

There were moments of intense solitude.
Where, where did my heart stray?

I left my soul somewhere.
On dusty tracks it did stray.

I looked for it everywhere.
My mind remained blank and bare.

Then my body sad, said softly
I need the others to remain alive.

Copyright: Rani Turton

Fragile Hearts: Poem

FRAGILE HEARTS

Fragile hearts, hearts that break
Do not harsh words and ruptures take

Fragile hearts that trust and beat
Trodden under uncaring feet

Hearts, like roses in the rain,
Scatter under the onslaught of pain.

Copyright: Rani Turton

THERE IS THE SKY, THERE IS THE RIVER

THERE IS THE SKY,  THERE IS THE RIVER

There is the sky, there is the river

The taker, and the giver

There is the sand, there are the stones
All that constitutes our bones

There are the stars and the trees
The soul has eyes that sees

The body thus thinks and acts
But then, whose is this mind that reacts?

Copyright: Rani Turton

This Emptiness Within: Poem

THIS EMPTINESS WITHIN

This emptiness within, an utter stillness that could,
Would, should remain transfixed by eternity

Not a sunyatian stillness not the perfect void
A void, no, rather devoid
Not a perfect vacumn not even the space
To fill up a space that

Silences and stillness from analysis
Springs nought; not the naught but the knot
And the stillness and the silence in empty hearts
As far from perfection as existence
As far from existence as perfection
From where perfection springs
From the depth of the naughts

This emptiness within, then as still
As far from perfection's existence
As from perfecting existence

Transcends and permeates the fickle uneasy mind
Leaving mind and thought and emotion far, far behind.

Copyright: Rani Turton

Anchor: Poem

Anchor

Wherever you may rove, my thoughts, my brimming heart
Tries to keep pace with you: for so it is;
The journey has been so long, so fraught with worry
I  am numb and my eyes blurry.

There is a port perhaps where you can at times
Anchor; there is an inn or a home where you may
At times wont to  linger: wherever you may go
My heart goes with you, with every tide's flow.

Once I knew you were my lighthouse
My ocean and my endless horizon, I dared
To cross oceans and go hither and dither;
But in anguish oft did my lonely soul wither.

 Folk musicians  wander and do not wonder;
But how did I become the muse and the mast
When all that I ever wanted, I do concur
Was to become your eternal anchor?

Copyright: Rani Turton

Rolls Royce Phantom Saloon

Seen at an automobile show in a suburb of Paris, this dream car.

This Moment Captive: Poem

THIS MOMENT CAPTIVE

I can call you my beloved
Softly under my breath:
Only my own ears will hear;
I can look on you as my very own
Until the hour of my death.

You are here and now, this moment captive
In the cupped warmth of my hands
You can speak to me if you must
I won't run for I'll be a prisoner of your words
Tied to you by soft silken bands.

I will always cherish you; and moreso
I will always remember how sometimes you,
Forgetting yourself, and the entire watching world
Let everybody see, so recklessly, so fecklessly
That your love for me was true.
 
Copyright: Rani Turton

The Psychology of the Unsaid: Poem

The Psychology Of The Unsaid

Thoughts, untranslated, remained unsaid.
Was it because expression or emotion was dead?
Or was it really that all courage had fled?

Education has not the answer
On thoughts that remain unsaid;
Or the psychology of the unsaid world
Could probably change the world.

There were pauses, there were glances
And the words that spoke
Were the smokescreen for
Ordinary, unsuspecting folk.

Now, instinct, reason and lapsus
Are some more terms to discuss;
The unwritten is unwritten
The unspoken is yet hidden.


Copyright: Rani Turton

Rooftop Art, Paris

There is a kind of ladder or steps that have been integrated into the design.

Leaves (How They Do Fall) : Poem

Leaves, How They Do Fall

Leaves, how they do fall
Do they happen to wonder at all
Why the earth happens to turn
And them, with seasons spurned.
When they fall onto the earth
Carpetting the ground with their mirth
Do they think of the spring
And the life that it will finally bring?

That the cycle of life begins
That the waltz of seasons spins
Now leaves tumble and fall

One more autumn, one more fall.


Copyright: Rani Turton

Sculpted Leaf

A leaf that has been sculpted to perfection on a building in Paris.

Swan and Dog

The swan's feathers stood up in anger as it chased away this cuious dog!

Sequel to Dog and Swan!

The dog literally turned tail with interested pigeons looking on.

Solitude Singing: Poem

SOLITUDE SINGING

Being alone is knowing
That in in this solitary splendour
Solitude, stark and staring,
Solitude, singing a lullaby
Solitude, singing a dirge
Surrounded by so many sundry things;
Things seen and unseen
Factors known and unknown
Solitude singing softly, chanting without ranting
Solitude’s songs that sing of solemn things

Silence singing golden songs
Silence healing ancient wrongs
If only silence could be
More than a memory
More than history
Silence can be more than words
Empty words echoing in an empty world
Echoing in empty valleys
Silence unspoken, unspoken, unbroken
Transfixed by time.


Copyright: Rani Turton

Children's Art: "Woman with hair flying in the wind"

The movement in this drawing (chalk on paper) has been captured by the wind in the woman's hair!

Artist: Indrani

Fruit Stand at night, Delhi: Photograph

The allure of a fruit and vegetable stand at night!

Oh, Brittle Mind: Poem

Oh, Brittle Mind

Oh, brittle mind, leave all your worries behind.
Ripples in your hemispheres, whorls and whirls
Race through your fragile interior.

Strong you may be. Bountiful your life
But your mind, fragile, courses like the river
Onward, onward, sometimes flooding the banks.

Then when  reflection ceases
And bliss is yet to come
The mind, coursing on like that swollen river
Wonders what yet it will become;
If daylight would break, and with it reason:
The corpus callosum has it's own season.

Copyright: Rani Turton

Cat: Photograph

Meow! Who goes there?

The Poet's World: Poem

The Poet's World

How many poets have these pavements known
Stepping and storming, thinking and weaving
Lines into dreams; these cracked intellectual stones
Have mutely remained still under the onslaught of words:
Silent in the fury of the poet's world.

This twisted tree has seen me too
Trying to reason out what I did,
The evidence of the illogical emotion
And the rational linear world.

Why did the clouds run away?
Was there a reason the moon suddenly hid?
Why did the waves slosh and fall? Fated to follow the tide,
Feelings and fate, the poems pour out.

The city waits, accepting the flow
Of verse that, thrown into the river
Flowed on, flowed on. The river takes all
And life carries on, carries on.

Copyright: Rani Turton

Almost Locked: Photograph

A lock that is almost locked.