Toe Poetry

[austintorn@aol.com]

The Escape From SpaceTime

I had a night dream
In which I dreampt that I woke up.
Now I was once removed from spacetime,
But, just to be sure, went back to ‘sleep’
To now dream within the dream.

So, in this double virtual reality,
Spacetime no longer mattered
And thus I had a whole ‘nother life;
Everything under the sun was new!

[Wick]

Until I realized my dream
consisted of a specific configuration
of matter and energy inside

my sleeping brain...and so
my dream was caught
in spacetime's web as well.

Spacetime is a perfect prison.
There is no escape.
Even when you think

you have escaped it,
it grows just large enough
to enthrall you still.

[labelwench]

Traces of lace on aspen leaf,
and balsam poplar silver,

Nature breathes, a gentle breath,
Leafminer's world to quiver.

"A rose by any other name,
would still smell as sweet."

Wild rose wafts a gentle scent,
Blooming profuse at hinterland's meet.

A palette of colour, hastily strewn,
Brief Yukon summer, displayed at my feet.

[austintorn@aol.com]

(I can't read Wick's last post because I decided not to wake up, plus there is no Einstein where I am.)

Meanwhile…

Though laughing with all the smiles she wore,
Eve now more serious her burden bore
When she brought forth the mournful Asphodel,
Dedicating it to the souls of Hell.

The Asphodel sustains the Dis dwellers,
Where they rest beyond that fatal river—
There the wretched shades drink forgetfulness,
And to oblivion sink without distress.

Fireweed grows from Hell’s sulfurous embers,
As does Purple Loosestrife—dead men’s fingers;
But wildflower air revives the dead—and then
Those happy souls can thrive on Earth again.

[Mohan.C]

Till winter comes

The morning of June,
Awaits a breezy noon.
The rain: that which falls,
Falls down and laughs.
Chattering on the rocks,
On the stony doors it knocks.
On the grass it spatters mud
Encumbering the growing bud.

But, it dries up soon,
To clear a way for the moon.
Unless he gets clouded,
Beyond the clouds, shrouded.
Before the next morning comes,
Welcomed with thundering drums.
And again the rain will fall,
On this mist ridden knoll.

So, wait we will, till winter comes.
Trudging on barley and bread crumbs.
And wait we will, till the cold wind blows.
And lifts the clouds as the free wind flows.

[austintorn@aol.com]

Quick sprout the Buttercups, all bright and new,
Goblets from which the fairies drink the dew.
From the Eglantine springs poetry’s power—
It’s the only way to describe this flower!

The Heliotrope turns towards the sun,
Closely tracking its path throughout the day,
But when clouds appear or when day is done,
It forgets about the sun and looks away.

Eve brought the Magnolia’s magnificence,
The playful Hyacinth in its sprightly dance,
And Marigolds that follow the summer lost,
Enduring well into the final frost.

From the Poppy we gain full sensation,
Elation, and oblivion’s consolation;
When life’s miserable pain is too deep,
It simulates death with a balmy sleep.

[Mohan.C]

The flowers they dance in their fragrant might,
So mystical in this fiery night.
Barging down the door with their haunting scent
They cast their spells and out they went.

Into the paths that were never in use,
I followed for I didn't want to abuse
Those tender blooming gifts of spring
More and more joy into our life they bring.

I followed them but uttered not a word,
Next to them I looked more than absurd.
What could a man do in front of nature?
Next to it he is just a miniature!

They spread their seed around with springy feet
And far ahead they went, their friends, to meet
So cool was the breeze in this summer may,
And on the grass yellow maple leaves lay.

I gasped aloud at this dreamy vision,
I wished I would become a man without mission,
For if death it is, to god, I should give,
I would give him that gladly, if only I could live!

[austintorn@aol.com]

Growing in the cold, near the leafless trees,
Snowdrop bells ring out for friends in need;
They bring hearty hopes to those with hardships—
Icicles changed to flowers by friendships.

Eve carried forth Forget-Me-Not bouquets
That sprouted fast wherever heroes fell;
They bring back all of the happiest days
To sound in our hearts as memory’s bell.

Holly, the harbinger of spring desires,
Blooms all winter long, and with hope inspires
Our cold and dreary hearts to chime and ring
With good cheer and love for everything.

[austintorn@aol.com]

Eve gathered the amiable Jasmine,
Which soft exhales its breath of friendship, and,
By a delicious fragrance in the night,
Overpowers the stars with its sweet delight.

The Jasmine impregnates the dew each night
With its friendly perfume of good and right;
Thus morning’s incense carries its odour,
Keeping everyone in fresh good humor.

Love’s first emotion comes from the Lilac,
For it blooms when Nature is first aroused;
Yes, it’s love’s youngest dream to us come back,
Where it will ne’er again remain unspoused.

When Thyme she sowed, the bees came all abuzz,
And all around it flew their dance of love.
So now we know that those who would savor
The sweets of love mustn’t neglect the flower.

[Mohan.C]

Where is the rain?

The flower's should have bloomed,
By the end of June. But the rain
Never fell, so we are waiting
For it to come soon.
Waiting for that one cloud to close
The curtains of the sky.
The wait never ended. When
Will a cloud ever pass by-
This city? Which is burning in monsoon.
Instead of being flooded from
Morning to noon. Not one drop
Have the heaven's spared.
All the people are still wondering
Did they drink it all up there.
As they ask in vain,
Where is the rain?
Where is the rain?

There is no water now to drink,
The dams should have by now
Filled up to the brim.
But everything has hit
Rock bottom this year.
Everyone is still wondering
Why is the rain still not here?

And waiting for that one drop
Of life, for that life sustaining
Liquid to fall from the sky.
They are all asking.
Where is the rain?
Where is the rain?