Today's English Poetry
Sort of a flow wheel
That goes round and round
In a sphere of thoughts
Forming an areal space
The flow wheel flows
Between ideas and words
Images and music
Enriching each other flowing
Fed by thoughts sprung up
Out of our living the life
That carries on deepening
Ducking and diving expanding
In it art flows through the flow wheel
As though it is life's electrons flowing
In the end what remains is the art
It remains as the flow, glow that glows
Copyrights @ Munayem Mayenin, London 2007
The Wind! The Wind!
Sitting by the living lake I saw water’s soul
The wind! Oh! How its magic brought the
The water to life! The wind’s silent rhythm
Played the water like a happy canvas alive
An invisible magician the wind’s magic touch!
Under the outgoing lights and incoming dark
Where added rays of lamppost’s contributions
Spoke with a colour transparent silver aqua:
Making wind’s crafted waves into swimming
Swans in a joyous flight and they swam silently
As the wind blew them onwards: these swans!
Oh! The swans of majestic transparent aqua silver!
They swam wearing dresses of water’s silent songs
On the kisses of water-soul wind! The wind! Wind!
Copyrights @ Munayem Mayenin, London 2007
About Statistics
Anything is possible within the grasp
Yet probability’s counter fixed in a fall
Of a hundred for we ought to have means
To count: to do, to do absolute business.
Anything is not possible and only probable
Will do and hundred is the number numb
In our head and there is the per cent port
Where ten, fifteen and forty five comes along
Yet one wonders if one might at all want to
Why a hundred? And not infinite since we
Are between minus and plus of this number?
There are no answers’ hedgehogs that poke
Out their heads! We must count our statistics
Mindful of the market so that it can sell them!
Copyrights @ Munayem Mayenin, London 2007
Tescoping Your Life
They say: here you are with a lens
Magnifying marked objects: oily
And ornamented with absolute
Fanciful market’s sure-fire moulds
They say: here you are to press these
Bankrupt buttons and then add the
Final one: fully accommodating to give
A total and say: twelve twenty, please!
They say all this and offer you a sheet
From where you howl in and out your
Day’s diagram: fully functional you are,
As a professional: your smiles and words
Are versioned, shaped and all you need
To do is to pick and use the right one up
Copyrights @ Munayem Mayenin, London 2007
To My English Lecturer
Our English Lecturer, we called her Madam,
Always spoke beautifully like a transparent
Song floating on a spring day’s wind: always
She was a composed rose radiating literature.
Lean and thin attire she walked like butterflies
Light and tall as though she was winning
Against the air, carrying register and books
She was the metaphor of a motherly beauty’s
Face. Unruly bunch in the class we could be
Yet in her class silence fanned our perimeter
And we were duly arrested in her lectures
The way she spoke, stories became real and
Living and joy it was listening to her talk yet
Oh! How cancer grabbed her butterfly wings!
Copyrights @ Munayem Mayenin, London 2007
19.
Mint green mingles in your mind
And you wonder what else could
You mix to make it dance: try
Melancholy purple around it
And you can hear them dancing
A mint circle petaled in purple
Almost like the earth and moon
Inner and outer layer of one
Copyrights @ Munayem Mayenin, London 2007
Give Back My Lyre
The earth takes in all and in return
Offers a serene resolute silence-urn
Filled with darkness that takes a hearth
Shape where dark fires of silence churn
There I offer my cries and sorrows to burn
Distant they become; no need rises: tape
There is none or devices to record nor any
Witnesses to withstand the heat’s many
Acts of arts to destroy: give back my lyre!
(This is what I call Ninnets)
Copyrights @ Munayem Mayenin, London 2007
Neuley Pleasance
The first French phrase I fell in love with
Neuley Pleasance in full moon silver glows
Slight showers drizzling the midnight hour
Subdued silence holding a vigil in lunar kisses
Through the train window’s aqua paint
Outside awash with a song of silver lights
She spoke anew and beauty born in soft
And gentle a musical opening a welcome
Neuley Pleasance where there was a state
Of mind that I held within suddenly came
Right in front of me: two notes mingling
She sang in midnight hour with the moon
Copyrights @ Munayem Mayenin, London 2007
Landscape of the Song
That may be too ambitious a thing to aim for
To build a home in the landscape of a song?
Or have a dance plucked from the sparkles
Of your eyes where its choreograph flashes
Or may be it isn’t so bad that we do have these
These unreal unusable gold just to remind us
That we are still attempting to unfold a living
That checks us in the end: the striving to mark
Or may be it is the only gold-the only sun
The expanse of the landscape of the song
Copyrights @ Munayem Mayenin, London 2007
Read interview in The Guardian
http://www.guardian.co.uk/weekend/story/0,,2168427,00.html
Read interview in The Observer
http://www.observerunlimited.co.uk/print/0,,330736719-103425,00.html
Read the October issue The Sentinel Poetry Quarterly Interview and Poetry http://www.sentinelpoetry. org.uk
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