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Your Happiness Smiles

Posted on November 21, 2015 Updated on October 27, 2015

As the autumn arrives

the trees shed their innocence in to twigs
the leaves break the ice of silence
and fall on the soil so indifferently
that the wind wanders on the sheaves
only to feel the warmth of spring
only to ear the songs of the heavenly bliss

The Satan that always cajoles me
drifts me in to the salmon sea
in to the darkness perched deep within me
disgracefully lies like fallen leaves
thy blessings my lord circumvents
every malefic deeds of the Satan
and the dashing beauty of autumn
wiggles me out from the dirt
of self-pity and unfaithfulness

I draw a curtain of clouds
that blurs the sight of my vision
I snug your hold close to me
and tenderly tighten my noose
and your world seemingly melts
into my endless passion

I plant a sweet sapling of peace
on your kissing lips so wet
the shining dawn blushes
and sneaks into the swanky dusk
the pansies decorate the butterflies
as the autumn arrives filled with promises

Your happiness smiles
as the autumn arrives.

– Tarapada Mohapatra

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The Autumn Walk

Posted on November 19, 2015 Updated on October 27, 2015

She had strings tied around her limbs, which bound her limp body to her surroundings.
Unable to move or make decisions, she begged to find an escape.
She screamed and pleaded but all she got were frightened stares and hurried whispers,
In odd angles, she was tangled in the strings that held her down.

Her screams echoed off the walls, as she lay down in frustration.
Another day of countless struggles which made the strings tighter still.
This inevitably would lead to her downfall, though then she did not know,
In odd angles, she was tangled in a world she’d never call home.

Autumn came and autumn went from outside the bars she called her house,
While she sat there tied together willing herself to just…fly away.
She has no companions, for she saw no need to reveal her wounds,
In odd angles, she was tangled in these things she called her puppet strings.

The walls, they listened, to every story she’s had to tell
She could whisper all her secrets, or she could yell her words out loud.
She would lay down on the floor and speak softly to the darkness,
In odd angles, she was tangled in her strings inside a coffin.

No one came so no one went, as she sat in the corner broken,
She would pull at these things that tied her down, until her fingers were raw and bloody.
No friendly faces, just a tattered soul, to keep from her fears,
In odd angles, she was tangled inside herself, but inside grew cold.

In her dreams, she danced with the sun, which beat down on her shattered features,
She felt so free to dance, to sing as her strings lay in a crumpled heap.
Leaving behind her Autumn walk in return for a sunny escape,
In odd angles, she was tangled in a dream world all her own.

When Autumn woke up to find her world strung high above her head,
She whimpered lightly and found the courage to fight with all she had.
She shook and screamed for she hated these strings, which tied her to her fears,
In odd angles, she was tangled though soon she would be free.

One by one she pulled these strings hoping then she could stand tall.
Day after day she cut free of these things that would never regain their hold.
Although it hurt, she fought her fears until she felt the tight pull release,
In odd angles, she was tangled still, but only by one tiny thing.

Her knees shook a little as Autumn stood up to walk,
Out through the bars that had always held her in.
She gasped at the Spring sunlight and smiled just a little,
In odd angles, coming un-tangled, she knew she would never have to go back inside.

Like the sunny escape inside her dream world, Autumn left with her strings behind,
She danced and she sang with a new spring in her step,
no longer tied to her old Autumn walk.
Strong and secure she let herself run free, feeling odd that no string held her back,
In odd angles, and no longer tangled, Autumn left walking into her sunny Spring dream.

– Cora Lee

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No More Thank Colours Autumn Brings

Posted on November 18, 2015 Updated on October 27, 2015

No more than colours
Autumn brings:
what left are only
plans and glooms.
Hours became once again
so still
Close you once more
in frozen rings.
Summer’s nights hopes
are now so dull
Becoming enemies
wrap you in a thrill.
When the first yellowed leaf
fall on the ground
and break the desire,
thirst in the soul.
All is now inert, like a murdered bull
Before full of blood, then flesh to sell.
Damned Autumn, who’ve created it.

– Mattia Airoldi

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Love Bloom But Once

Posted on November 17, 2015 Updated on October 27, 2015

When Autumn’s chilly winds complain
And red leaves withered fall,
We know that Spring will laugh again,
And leaf and flower recall.

But when Love’s saddening Autumn wears
The hues that death presage,
No Spring in Winter’s lap prepares
A second Golden Age.

So when Life’s Autumn sadly sighs,
Yet smiles its cold tears through,
No Spring, with warm and sunny skies,
The Soul’s youth will renew.

Love blooms but once and dies—for all,—
Life has no second Spring:
The frost must come, the snow must fall,
Loud as the lark may sing.

O Love! O Life! ye fade like flowers,
That droop and die in June;
The present, ah! too short, is ours;
And Autumn comes too soon.

– Albert Pike

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