Oh, Melancholy: Poem

Oh, Melancholy
Oh, Melancholy

You almost tempted me

On wet city streets, in grey city nights
To trust uncaring strangers
Yes, those city knights.

Oh, Melancholy, you are my love
I have walked, talked and sung to you; 
Years and years have gone by.
Melancholy: I was savage and shy.

One day I waited near the river
I saw you pass by on the bridge.
You were all I had ever dreamed of
Me, walking on the river's edge.

I almost lost, ever in love, but
Never, never really wise; 
Lost in romantic dreams, 
I wished to believe in your passionate lies.

When I saw you walking by
On the bridge, your face in shadow
I knew then, you would always
Follow me, go where I go.

Touch me with soft, gentle hands
And often take my pain
Letting me believe that
You could dissolve it in the city rain.

That you would speak to me
And I would for once understand: 
My emotions would surge
As we walked on hand in hand.

Years later now, I still have you
In every shadow, mirror, poetic line
Oh, Melancholy, you know
You will always be mine, only mine.

Copyright: Rani Turton 

All I Need Just Now: Poem

All I Need Just Now

All I need just now

Is for the earth to curve into the sky:
To listen to rustling leaves
Watch clouds sailing by.

Then when my fatigued brain sleeps
And worries cease to be
I will dream of peace
Lying here under this green tree.

Copyright: Rani Turton

My Heart's Empty Spaces: Poem

My Heart's Empty Spaces

I have looked for you in many strange places:
Highways, subways, and in my heart's empty spaces.
By brightlight, flickering light, by rain and sun.
I waited. That is when this quest had begun.

I wrote in imperfect rhymes, by day and night.
That is how the heart reasons, and why I write.
That is how the ache is dissipated, as days go on
As times whistles by and hope is born.

I have waited at street corners, even in biting cold
Many strange cities have I roamed, wild and bold;
To follow my destiny was a toss of dice.
Beloved, if only you could love me twice.


Copyright: Rani Turton

Photograph: Lord Ganesha

A close up of Ganesha, magnificent in shades of gold.

Adored: Poem

Adored

All steps lead to your door; all paths lead to you somehow.
When I saw you the very first time, it was evident to me
Life’s doors opened and closed for you. That my life
That the years, all these days and nights lay in your eyes.
Adored you are, adored you will remain, come what may.
Life can be fickle. My heart, however, is sworn to secrecy
Though sometimes weary; but walking, walking
On this road of destined love. Adored you are.
You will always be.
Precious as the air I breathe,
As vital as life is to me.

Copyright (text and image): Rani Turton

Nothing To Do With My Life: Poem

Nothing To Do With My Life.

I heard the clouds whisper from .land to land
It seemed that rumours were running rife.
Nothing to do with my life.
Nothing to do with my solitary life,
Nothing to do with my perturbed mind.

There was a rift in celestial realms.
Nothing seemed to be the same anymore.
What happened, what was to happen
World spinning fast on jerky axis
Tsunami, forest fire, war in many lands

I heard the clouds whispering
My mind tried to remain calm.
Lightning in a bleak black sky; tempest
Over choppy water; drops of water
Falling,falling, onto placid lakes
Thinking, regretting many mistakes.

Clouds that move from land to land.
Maybe only they can really understand.


Copyright (text and image): Rani Turton

Bandplayer at Indian Marriage, Delhi

The band players are dressed for the occasion, and fit in beautifully with the bright, shimmering colours of the festivities!

The Painted Trucks of India

Indian roads have marvellous handpainted trucks that brighten up mundane living. The artists use colours imaginatively, and the motifs can be mythological, Bollywoodian, Nature or just about anything. Wonderful!

Street Art: Victor Hugo, Paris

A fabulous interpretation of Victor Hugo. The artist has, it seems, rubbed the dust off the walls with considerable dexterity. This work of art is to be found at the Place des Vosges, Paris. The museum of Victor Hugo is to be found at 6 Place des Vosges 75004 Paris.

My Solitary Self: Poem

My Solitary Self

I asked my solitary self, shy, splendid and sad
What to do wth the rest of my life;
My solitary self, debating with being and existing
And unravelling sundry strife.

My solitary self, aloof at times
Decided to ask my soul when and where
My brain and body could join in
And finally all griefs to share.

Wisdom, wherever it lies,
Perplexed by this intellectual discussion
Asked my solitary self to flee
All complicated abnegation.

So, alone with my solitary self,
Again I let my mind wander winsome and wild;
Slowly walking on mile after mile:
And then I saw my solitary self smile.

Copyright: Rani Turton