Left Foot Poet: Favorites

Feb 2015 Left Foot Poet

Pradip Chattopadhyay

reflects smiles
mirrors pains
its beauty beguiles
entertains

wakes up heart
opens door
transcends art
furthermore

swells in vein
its maddening flow
drops as rain
on parchment glow

once seeded within
grows deep root
makes you come clean
speak only truth

soul's inked beat
pearls dug from deep
in true spirit
have it worshipped.

Poetry is a spirit; they that would worship it must worship in spirit and in truth.
(E.M. Forster: The Celestial Omnibus)

Jan 2015 Left Foot Poet

Pour the Wine in My Mouth Not On the Open Wounds

Jan 2015 Left Foot Poet

Ottar

Pour the Wine in My Mouth Not On the Open Wounds

has the world cracked a vessel made of clay
has the life whacked a resilience far away
has flesh and bone lost its' steel to decay

Love sits waiting I am sure to caress the fissures
Love has open arms to catch the falling, so sure!
Love can wrap and mend the damage, as it is pure

Open eyes to see
Open hands to touch
run along the naked truth
like the whisper of the wind
Open to tastes
Open to the scent of being close
Open to listen, to what is really
said behind the words and hid-
den in the emotional
play on display to be a survivor

Pour the wine, who needs a glass...

#love #thoughts #enjoy

Jan 2015 Left Foot Poet

In Meditation

Jan 2015 Left Foot Poet

Ottar

In Meditation

read me out loud, not to be proud, away from a crowd,
find the quiet and soft solitude of a sunrise of a sunset
with flashlight, candlelight in the moonlit starlight

on a clear morn, may ideas be born, in you
Abba I belong to you,
on a clear morn, play freely with day dreams,

as the day ends, the sun settles, may you settle too,
Abba I belong to you,
as the day ends, unwind and unbend, made it through

To Relief
To Grief
To Peace
To Sorrow

Abba I belong to you, even Tomorrow

#spirirtual

Nov 2014 Left Foot Poet

An Old Shirt

Nov 2014 Left Foot Poet

Pradip Chattopadhyay

An Old Shirt

on the back numerous hole
quite a few too on the chest
still it clings to my soul
I think it fits me best.

says my flummoxed wife
you’re a miser hopeless
holding on a rag for life
bringing yourself disgrace.

I feign not to hear and shrug
clutching it more to my heart
feeling warm cosy in its hug
my friend the many years’ shirt.

on it lie rivers of sweat
joy and sorrow’s tear stains
time’s all burden of weight
gloomy and dark hours’ pains.

a mere cloth and I find it so hard
to throw it and part our ways
wonder how humans discard
relations grown over years.

Nov 2014 Left Foot Poet

SLEEPING

Nov 2014 Left Foot Poet

Olivia Kent

SLEEPING

Have you ever laid in bed pretending that you're asleep.
While he's stroking the back of your hair.
You're feeling the essence of your own vulnerability.
It's deep beneath his gentle touch.
Hearing his breathing with each caress.
And you miss his image as it lingers in your mind.
Your mind us the only place he lingers still.

Have you ever curled up in a bedroom ball.
A pretence of sleep is all that's left now.
The fear left you quivering.
His coldness left you shivering.
As viciously he turned you out the house.
Welcome to the land of cold.
(C) Livvi

Nov 2014 Left Foot Poet

Invisible Me or You

Nov 2014 Left Foot Poet

Robert C Howard

Invisible Me or You

Look up toward the Milky Way and
imagine yourself forgotten -
all your files deleted -
all your sins and triumphs expunged.

What could be better
or worse
or more completely neutral?

So here I am on the beach
carving a castle in the sand.
Are you with me?

The tide snickers and waits
knowing our castle
lacks the slightest chance
or does it?

I think I’ll toss a beached sea star
back into the froth.
It matters little - save to
that one inimitable echinoderm
that may or may not perish tonight.

*October, 2014