Wednesday, 30 April 2014

Poem: 30-4-2014


We met for the month of spring
Shared good cheer
Supported each other
Wrote our best poems, every day
It is the last day of April
This is the last poem
So the sojourn ends
If this is the time to part
So be it!
Till we meet next spring
For hello!

 ©2014 April        

Lalarukh Lasharie

Tuesday, 29 April 2014

Poem: 29-4-2014

A poem which I had written earlier and changed for today....

School Days

Fridays were a bore
Washing hair, meatballs and treacle
Afternoon tea, watery and insipid
Tuck was glorious, to share and eat
Morning walks to study Geography
Terrace, water-shed and gradient
The nativity performed
Female Joseph, singing hymns
Hillside covered with blue gentians
Rolling down with friends

 ©2014 April        

Lalarukh Lasharie

Monday, 28 April 2014

Poem: 28-4-2014


All too many regrets at having held back
I could have done it this way
Or tried that way
Your way, not my way
When can I call back used up dreams
How can I stop time in its tracks?

Our walks in the autumnal landscape
Your need to go further, mine to stop
We could have met mid-way
And not parted ways
When can I call back used up dreams
How can I stop time in its tracks?

 ©2014 April        

Lalarukh Lasharie

Sunday, 27 April 2014

Poem: 27-4-2014

An Ekphrastic  poem:


They were the king and queen
Of all they ever surveyed
Always loving, never mean
Happy as they were portrayed
Health, wealth and happiness
Power, status and uprightness

Once upon a time, long long ago
There lived a family, far far away

When the war came it destroyed
One couple and the sibling
They were the troops deployed
No food, no water and an ailing
Mother, loss of love and senses
Surrounded by very tall fences

Once upon a time, long long ago
There lived a family, far far away

Next the childless couple
Their days lost in search of love
Money grows and is double
All alone, and trying to shove
Forward in this rat race
His heart fell from grace

Once upon a time, long long ago
There lived a family, far far away 

The last couple was lost to disease
After the children had grown
They were married, an increase
In distance made them drown
In loneliness and sorrow 
And no way to heal tomorrow

Once upon a time, long long ago
There lived a family, far far away

Now the children and grandchildren
Look lovingly at the movies and pictures
Of their fairytale lives and their gardens
Tales and exploits are just conjectures
Sometimes I wonder, how the future
Will treat us, will our legacy endure?

Once upon a time, long long ago
There lived a family, far far away

 ©2014 April        

Lalarukh Lasharie

Saturday, 26 April 2014

Poem: 26-4-2014

A curtal sonnet ( invented by G. Manley Hopkins ), form is a sestet, a quatrain and a half-line 6+4+1/2, rhyme scheme is abcabc  dbcdc 


Right behind the house is a stream
Across which starts the woodland
Under the tall trees is an ethereal glow
Afar a dead stillness, a soft daydream
Ahead a doe watches, than sprints inland
Behind me the stream’s lazy, slow flow

I close my eyes, open my third and walk
Birds sing, bees hum, happily painted land
The stream is a torrent, and the winds blow
The trees sway, whisper and poem-talk
                         Open the third eye below!

 ©2014 April        

Lalarukh Lasharie

Friday, 25 April 2014

Poem: 25-4-2014



He was ginger with melting amber eyes
         Soft as down, smooth as honey
He was a beautiful, red Persian
         The best meow in the world
He had pedicure, manicure daily
          Coiffed and scented too
He would cuddle and snuggle off to sleep
           With a sigh, and purffle
He was my only, Antonio Banderas
            My tiny Puss in Boots

 ©2014 April        

Lalarukh Lasharie

Thursday, 24 April 2014

Poem: 24-4-2014

Poem involving masonry!

Roof Over Our Heads!

What is the importance about a roof
Over our heads? A roof of hard concrete
Solid, pre-cast, stable, immovable
But my roofs are trees, ever expansive
All encompassing, gathering to the womb
Of mother earth. Its wide branches swaying,
Dancing in the breeze, moving to the beat
Of invisible wind-drums, not air-tight
Sealed coffins for our material times
To keep wealth in, health and happiness out
Build roof over roof, trying to touch the sky,
This is unattainable through money
Milestones moves further as they move nearer.
Lying under my roof, the sun filters
Shines with falling rain, each drop divided
By leaves, fall as sprays, refreshes my face.
Why do we want to be hedged in and
Confined by unnatural fixed roof?
We have grown to like artificiality
It stops our souls from rejuvenation
It stops it from reaching for the skies
From touching the stars, the open heavens.
To the concrete coffin, a millstone
Let me prefer the roof of the heavens
As a roof over our heads!

 ©2014 April

Lalarukh Lasharie

Wednesday, 23 April 2014

Poem :23-4-2014

A homo-phonic translation of a Persian poem:
by: Maryam Hooleh


Agree to bear the main rage of sincerity
Bare and allow labels flung, grazed
Careful but patient, heard raging, but dared to share
When I stare in, within
Snatch a long death, heard by each person
Why outrun it, why overtake?
Yes, re-fire the mainstay of partial self
While you chill, they are unfairly marked
Fear and sadness their diadem

 ©2014 April

Lalarukh Lasharie

Tuesday, 22 April 2014

Poem: 22-4-2014

Dirty Laundry

Every once in a while
We open our eyes to a pile
Of dirty laundry shoved under
The carpet, having festered over
The years. It gives a distinct smell
Of neglect and distrust, we can tell
The years have made it difficult
To remove the stain. To add insult
To injury, we pick at it, scratch
The scabs, cover it and patch
The wounds, like a pet project.
It’s an open sore, even if we inject
All manner of cleaning and dusting.
We store it till the next spring cleaning
In the deepest, darkest cupboard
Swaddle in clean sheets and to ward
Off foul scents, add sweet lavender
It is what it is, and remains forever
Dirty laundry.

 ©2014 April

Lalarukh Lasharie

Monday, 21 April 2014




My troubled thoughts
Own the rise and fall of my breath
Makes images of untold words
Forms into poems on will-o-wisps
Which fly on wings of butterflies
To you who are so far away
And yet so near----
Your whispers entangle, beckon
Urge me towards the window
Looking down the Cliffside----
Sheets of paper rain
Petals of orange blossom
So easy to walk on clouds
Softly float with the poem
Down to rest-in-peace
A transition----
From this-to-that

 ©2014 April

Lalarukh Lasharie

Sunday, 20 April 2014

Poem: 20-4-2014

Ghazan Khan age 3
Airah Khan age  1
Nanno (me) ageless


Nanno, why are you in bed all day and sick?
You know you have to do important things
Take me to the garden and play with me
How can you do that if you cannot run?
You will feel better when we play with the
Yellow ball! And maybe some mahjong too!

Airah plays with my books, tears them apart
This is not a toy! I keep saying, but
She doesn’t listen, in fact takes my cars
Motorbikes and tricycle too, then bawls
Whenever I snatch it back, I am fluent
You know, while she speaks baby gibberish!

The other day I watered some poor plants  
In the restaurant with bottled water
They had no flowers. I planted pretty
Primulas at Nanno’s gardening club
Took them to school, teachers gave three
 Stars for Fuchsias and Rhododendrons too

But seriously I do love my Nanno
Even though she is getting really old
She scribbles poetry in a small black book
When I ask her about what she’s writing
Poetry! She says! As if I didn’t know!
Older and wiser! When will they all learn!

 ©2014 April

Lalarukh Lasharie

Saturday, 19 April 2014

Poem: 19-4-2014

Poem using the given names of sea-shells!

Nonsense Verse

Snout Otter Clam
                   Pout at others be glam
False Cup-and-Saucer
                   Cleanse crap and denture
Shuttlecock Volva
                    Paddle down the Volga
 Tricolour Niso
                     Sushi and miso
Tuberculate Emarginula   
                      Inculcate energy granola
Lazarus Jewel Box
                      Lozenges for wily fox
Triangular Nutmeg
                       Trick it down a peg
Atlantic Turkey Wing
                        An antique dark key ring
Woody Canoe Bubble
                        Moody mango double
Unequal Bittersweet
                        A sequel to, Litter of Tweets

 ©2014 April

Lalarukh Lasharie

Friday, 18 April 2014



Déjà vu

Passing lines of villas in blue
One open red door, déjà vu
When and why did I last come here?
The courtyard where gnarled trees grew

A sun kissed bench, I had sat there
Colours and scents were everywhere
Limestone walls, paints that peel and flake
Walk on dry leaves and loose all care

I hear the dulcimers’ faint shake
Echo through the vast rooms and make
Me linger next, near the fountain
Each droplet, a memory break

When can I go back once again?
I keep coming back to regain
An elusive idea, a pain
And relive it more, once again

 ©2014 April
Lalarukh Lasharie

Thursday, 17 April 2014

Poem: 17-4-2014

Poem using the senses! Five Haiku, five senses, one topic rain!


Pitter, patter, pit
Slow droplets on the tin roof
Pulses towards sea

Bite a ripe, red, plum
Juices flow with rain to mouth
Fresh, fallen, nectar

Sun filtering rain
Strings of broken diamonds
Turner’s new landscape

Baked, parched, earth
Mingles with rain to release
Old captive scents

Rain drops on the face
Tickles the shoulder-blades
Flows smoothly, to toes

 ©2014 April

Lalarukh Lasharie

Wednesday, 16 April 2014

Poem: 16-4-2014

Today's prompt is to write ten lines poem of lies! Here is my take on lies around us.


My alter ego stares back at me
I laugh, it cries
I comb my hair, it musses it
I walk away, its eyes follow
I cry, it smirks
I sleep it awakens

Some images are pure reflection
But others are mere pixilation

Satellite images approximate
Path of Flight 370
Tiny lines stretch over oceans
Looking for specks in seas
Searching for bodies to bring
Closure to families

Some images are pure reflection
But others are mere pixilation

Public images are just faces
Beautiful, shiny platinum blond
Masking the hidden tortured soul
Strong, athletic, virile men
Golfer, cyclist, footballer
Masking sex, drugs and murder

Some images are pure reflection
But others are mere pixilation

 ©2014 April

Lalarukh Lasharie

Tuesday, 15 April 2014

Poem: 15-4-2014

A poem in Terza Rima, in iambic pentameter.


There was a time when no one could disclose
What was lost, what was wrong, path of intent
Pointing to the red line, when to foreclose

Initial heart-break, awful discontent
Where to get credit, stop deficit, how
To overcome, smile even if not meant

Time passes, that was then and this is now
Happening to so many, why appease?
Identical blue-prints! What is the row?

All are part of the same boat, if you please!

 ©2014 April

Lalarukh Lasharie

Monday, 14 April 2014


These are words with deep thought and I have left it to the reader to place their own question marks as the prompt desires!


Sink and flow, rise and glow
They wash my feet
Tickle my steps
Pull me to their depth
I roll over, play with them
Do I have the strength to resist?
Do I fight, to get back my breath?
The weeds caress my feet
Fishes come to marvel at
A creature of land, free from toil
Come to live here, be our meal
Maybe someday it will
Wash up the shores 
Crawl up the sands
Climb up the trees
Soar up the mountains
Stand up and hunt
Build up cities
Turn up on the shores
Our wave of life

 ©2014 April

Lalarukh Lasharie

Sunday, 13 April 2014

Poem: 13-4-2014

Poem with kenning words!

No one smiles, no one laughs
Stark white light glares down
Glazed eyes, hesitant steps
Brooding, aching, mourning
Aimlessly moving to and fro
Soulless, septic announcements
For heart-breaking appointments
Bandaged hearts, limbs, eyes
Of relatives, wives, husbands
Low hum of anxious concern
Clinical white walls, uniforms
Blue seats and black moods

 ©2014 April

Lalarukh Lasharie

Sunday, 6 April 2014



Spring is here, winter is away
Flowers, birds and bees are at play
Yet it is the cruellest month
Time for rebirth after death
April showers rejuvenate
Makes us face a shiny new fate

Break the boundaries
Run for cover
Shortage of water
Surplus of hate
Vapid faces
Gnawing hunger
We’re here, now,
April’s fool!

 ©2014  April

Lalarukh Lasharie

Saturday, 5 April 2014

Poem: 5-4-2014

A golden shovel poem:
Faces in the Forest
After Ezra Pound

I walk the path, down to the
forest floor, an apparition
appears to move slowly of
towards the deep valley. These
trees around me look as if faces
brood and stare down at me, in
deep contemplation, and move the
branches as if sighing, in a crowd
of silent sentinels. Their petals
strewn on the forest floor, like pearls on
green velvet. The moon-beam, a
stream of radiance, on leaves, wet
which gleam with an inner black
shimmer and glow on the bough.

 ©2014 April

Lalarukh Lasharie