FOUR FEATHERS PRESS ONLINE EDITION: BITTER SWEET Send up to three poems on the subject of or at least mentioning the words bitter and/or sweet, totaling up to 150 lines in length, in the body of an email message or attached in a Word file to donkingfishercampbell@gmail.com by 11:59 PM PST on September 20th. No PDF's please. Color artwork is also desired. Please send in JPG form. No late submissions accepted. Poets and artists published in Four Feathers Press Online Edition: Bitter Sweet will be published online and invited to read at the Saturday Afternoon Poetry Zoom meeting on Saturday, September 21st between 3 and 5 pm PST.

Friday, September 20, 2024

Ambika Talwar


Climber's Search for the Love Code


Lines that curve uphill weave
fortitude and irony keeping
polarities together and apart.
Could this grand design be
part of an old song somewhere
sung in half autumnal tones? 
Lying in wait, Climber hides 
a love that's a bit bitter-sweet.

Will Sky crack love's codes?
Will notes from valiant heavens
fall on all our simmering ears,
so hearts of mountains
break open as Hanuman reveals
inner core of pure devotion?

Doorway creaks open to infinite 
something as-yet-to-be but not
known...not even unknown.
Climber's steps fold-unfold
where bitterest road winds  
up slopes where he runs blindly.
Chaos herself chooses rougher
road until she arrives at
a standstill to gaze at Climber.

Meanwhile, sly Time slips away
a fugitive for love... smilingly
suckles sweet succulent berries.
from old bushes – blue berries.


Reference: Lord Hanuman is the monkey god who in utmost devotion to Lord Rama and Sita, tore open his chest to reveal his heart, where they reside. Hanuman himself is supreme divinity of grace, strength, protection.






Way of the Lost Muse 

A strange sweetness thrills 
my pores when your music breathes
magnificent chords.
Universe becalms eros breathing in-out
and I become an imaginary guitar
a landscape to explore.
Your fingers from afar pluck my strings. 
You name me wild woman – Once wise woman.
An eyebrow raised, I say wise women are wild.

Your intense eyes embittered
try to make meaning of fractured wholes.
Your reckless laughter bridges gaps
between wry moments – and I?
I don’t know what to say. Imagine! – So I write.

Your cynical look gleams a sadness;
One can be anything, you might say.
In an universe of possibilities,
a pea fits in a pod, a silver tuning fork hums,
singing bowls refract light on geodesic domes.
A new landscape in each new moment.
The eye of a storm crescendos 
into heart of new birth.

If you cherish your dream – will your songs 
soar through steel? Worlds wait to be known.
Will you pleasure the world with bitter melons,
so sweeter fruit feed souls lingering...lost?

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