City
Surrounded by concrete,
lights,
and a crescent moon,
the obsolescence
of hearts confounds.
The milquetoast of regret
seizes,
and shattered glass
repentance
cuts a tear
of cerium oxide rust
in the soul.
It’s imperfect with
the screech of feather
cutting air,
as crackpots entertain
trained monkeys
on bandwidths,
while we engage
in the urbane .
From “Persephone’s Call” by PWChaltas
Love is
Love is
devotion
and surrender,
in a giving
of the kind,
where in the giving,
you receive
more than you
could ever give,
and more than you
could ever expect,
or deserve
to receive.
It is deeper
than death
and much
more illogical
in the living .
Sometimes love
can destroy
the lives
of lovers .
Never the less
the true lover
is fulfilled
and sated in the giving,
regardless of
whether it ,
or the lover is
ever
to be returned.
If You Really Want to Try
If you really
want to try
to know G_d
read the Bible
part one and two,
read Torah
and the Talmud,
the Zohar and
the Qu’aran
and then read Siddharta,
but most of
all read Rumi ,
trust in your
innate goodness,
and in the One
above all .
From : “Free Verse in Useless Times” by PWChaltas
The Pawn Shop of Love
Take what’s left of this love and pawn it ,
In the pawn shop of love just down the street .
Take what ever ʻs left
and not dead.
Take this love it’s dying,
and just about gone;
pawn it,
in the pawn shop of love.
Pawn it for a romantic song
or a for a Rolex
or for a shining diamond ring .
Love is for sale here
you can trade it buy it, or sell it
here in this pawn shop of love,
where love has a price
and people trade it,
for money or for other love
that’s just slightly used
or perhaps thatʼs even new,
Other love that seems more interesting
and more amusing,
other love, and other lovers to lie to ,
others made for the abusing,
Other loves made for the losing
Other loves to trade later once again
in this pawnshop of love
just down the street,
where some people buy it, sell it ,
trade it or lose it
just for something to eat,
and some
just like to shop there
for a treat .
From “Picture Book of Poetree” by PWChaltas
Lament
I treated you
Poorly.
You treated me
with love.
You adored me,
Love’s flame
brightly burned
in your eyes.
I told you
merciful lies .
I loved you
at midnight
In the darkest hours.
You made me die
by day .
We made
ill fated plans
together.
You started all
your plans and played.
I treated you poorly.
You loved me
with body
heart and sighs,
but not with soul
or mind.
They all said,
that I would pay.
You said
there were lies
on both sides,
after it was done.
I treated you poorly.
Then I ran away .
Sometimes in my sleep,
late at night ,
I see you at a distance
in a boutique
of coloured cloth,
or on sidewalks outside
familial doors,
and at times
out in the wastelands
of the city,
high up on mountains ,
in your mournful
wedding dress.
So many tears were
spilled.
So much time
has passed,
that’s given
us peace and ease,
and other lovers
to love.
From “Next Steps to Paradise” by PWChaltas
Pavlov and His Dog are Waiting
Pavlov and his
dog are waiting
In the car
side by side,
waiting for Pavlov’s wife.
The dog isn’t salivating
and neither is Pavlov .
They are waiting
patiently
without anticipation,
starring both in exactly
the same way
straight ahead.
It’s a direct order
from fate,
and the bells of desire
have stopped
ringing .
They’ve been
replaced
by patience
in tandem ,
as Pavlov
and his dog
wait patiently
In the car.
From “Ruminations of the Dead” by PWChaltas
My Soul is Boxed In .
My soul
Is boxed in
and anguished
by my body,
for want of you.
The stars
shine brightly
spread all across
the clearest evening sky
In the full array
of your habitation.
The moon and I,
we survey the places
where you are.
The stars sit like
so many
filled glasses
spread across a table,
eyed
by a seasoned
thirsting drunk.
My soul yearns
to be released
to fly far up above
the trees
To It’s high up places,
as yours did
In release towards the dusk,
and evening stars.
And sometimes I see you;
briefly
You return
Only in the spring
to tree tops
For the release of budding leaves.
My soul
is boxed in by
my body
and yearns
to leave, today,
for the places
where you are;
to abide there
with you in your habitation
of the star,
so that I can drink
once more of
loving essence
and once more be at ease,
no longer far,
but close to you again .
And then,
let the clouds of night
cover over
all the mapped out
points of light,
as we hide from sight
together
in our sheltered
habitation of the star.
From Next Steps to Paradise by PWChaltas
Things above. Things below . Which one is it that we know ?
They coexist in light and dark by love. It depends on eyes and their direction.
PWChaltas 