NOSTALGIA I never thought that my life would become like dry leaves that fall from a tree, my whole past withered and now the wind of...

ARC PROSE POEM ANTHOLOGY 2021

evening train was leaving- leaving the platform in summer rain, I told my mother in her absence, we don't have much time to spend a shred...

A grass bent upon me & asked: What life is. I stumbled & said: Isn't it best known to you! For you have been Maiden child of the green...

like a roaming bird looking for a lost nation Dejection in her eyes lies Time of wrath and depression like a white lamb, never ...

Raining on me with moments, a long roar splits the grass of memories, from seashells of foam rise a groan of phosphorescent Phoenix,...

Move to the front of the line a voice says, and suddenly there is nobody left standing between you and the world, to take the first blows...

Nice poetry bringing abstract sacred thought on non dualism, composed by Dost Muhammed Rajper

It feels like being thrown overboard to lighten the load of a ship, becalmed in a storm. It must be snowing oats over The Horse...

Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up...

I cannot recollect now how once you translated my life into death and death into rains and rains into tears I hear the gossips of shining...

What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I walked d zaown the side streets under the trees with a headache self-conscious...

The apparition of these faces in the crowd : Petals on a wet , black , bough . EZRA POUND This is one of the quintessential imagist...

Day after day you thread the fragments of your years in the absence of your wounded shadow. Shards-- in the smokiness of a kerosene lamp-...

There is but one hole in God's argument with the ocean, children fall through there, 300 of them. They know nothing of rhetoric. I see...

The lemon tree piled her dry vibes, over there at the topmost tedium, the spring molded her into a glittering and warm crystalline, that...

A primula scotica beams at me but the wind is a 'cat o' nine tails' as the waves smash against the rocks in an explosive frenzy of clots...