Poems About Rabindranath Tagore Published by Members Recently Online
#RabindranathTagore
nomoth
Poem Published
27th Oct 2020 9:56pm
27th Oct 2020 9:56pm
Jayne and James
With the hand of my anger,
a fist of dolomite to the moonlight,
I forced this prescient night to bruise the floor
and turn up the corners of its sheet.
Where a life lay unbeholden to the laws of my eyes,
my radio and scent. A ley of dark beehives with black honey
dripping. Glistening under the thunder, the birthday parties
in which I didn't cry; for when I pulled back my hand,
would I, could I ever not give away their secret.
So I had them make for the morning
a mirror from the skin of a snake,
from which it...
a fist of dolomite to the moonlight,
I forced this prescient night to bruise the floor
and turn up the corners of its sheet.
Where a life lay unbeholden to the laws of my eyes,
my radio and scent. A ley of dark beehives with black honey
dripping. Glistening under the thunder, the birthday parties
in which I didn't cry; for when I pulled back my hand,
would I, could I ever not give away their secret.
So I had them make for the morning
a mirror from the skin of a snake,
from which it...
#grief
#dark
#heaven
#emptiness
#RabindranathTagore
553 reads
3 Comments
nomoth
Poem Published
27th Oct 2020 9:56pm
27th Oct 2020 9:56pm
Jayne and James
With the hand of my anger,
a fist of dolomite to the moonlight,
I forced this prescient night to bruise the floor
and turn up the corners of its sheet.
Where a life lay unbeholden to the laws of my eyes,
my radio and scent. A ley of dark beehives with black honey
dripping. Glistening under the thunder, the birthday parties
in which I didn't cry; for when I pulled back my hand,
would I, could I ever not give away their secret.
So I had them make for the morning
a mirror from the skin of a snake,
from which it...
a fist of dolomite to the moonlight,
I forced this prescient night to bruise the floor
and turn up the corners of its sheet.
Where a life lay unbeholden to the laws of my eyes,
my radio and scent. A ley of dark beehives with black honey
dripping. Glistening under the thunder, the birthday parties
in which I didn't cry; for when I pulled back my hand,
would I, could I ever not give away their secret.
So I had them make for the morning
a mirror from the skin of a snake,
from which it...
#grief
#dark
#heaven
#emptiness
#RabindranathTagore
553 reads
3 Comments
nomoth
Poem Published
27th Oct 2020 9:56pm
27th Oct 2020 9:56pm
Jayne and James
With the hand of my anger,
a fist of dolomite to the moonlight,
I forced this prescient night to bruise the floor
and turn up the corners of its sheet.
Where a life lay unbeholden to the laws of my eyes,
my radio and scent. A ley of dark beehives with black honey
dripping. Glistening under the thunder, the birthday parties
in which I didn't cry; for when I pulled back my hand,
would I, could I ever not give away their secret.
So I had them make for the morning
a mirror from the skin of a snake,
from which it...
a fist of dolomite to the moonlight,
I forced this prescient night to bruise the floor
and turn up the corners of its sheet.
Where a life lay unbeholden to the laws of my eyes,
my radio and scent. A ley of dark beehives with black honey
dripping. Glistening under the thunder, the birthday parties
in which I didn't cry; for when I pulled back my hand,
would I, could I ever not give away their secret.
So I had them make for the morning
a mirror from the skin of a snake,
from which it...
#grief
#dark
#heaven
#emptiness
#RabindranathTagore
553 reads
3 Comments
nomoth
Poem Published
27th Oct 2020 9:56pm
27th Oct 2020 9:56pm
Jayne and James
With the hand of my anger,
a fist of dolomite to the moonlight,
I forced this prescient night to bruise the floor
and turn up the corners of its sheet.
Where a life lay unbeholden to the laws of my eyes,
my radio and scent. A ley of dark beehives with black honey
dripping. Glistening under the thunder, the birthday parties
in which I didn't cry; for when I pulled back my hand,
would I, could I ever not give away their secret.
So I had them make for the morning
a mirror from the skin of a snake,
from which it...
a fist of dolomite to the moonlight,
I forced this prescient night to bruise the floor
and turn up the corners of its sheet.
Where a life lay unbeholden to the laws of my eyes,
my radio and scent. A ley of dark beehives with black honey
dripping. Glistening under the thunder, the birthday parties
in which I didn't cry; for when I pulled back my hand,
would I, could I ever not give away their secret.
So I had them make for the morning
a mirror from the skin of a snake,
from which it...
#grief
#dark
#heaven
#emptiness
#RabindranathTagore
553 reads
3 Comments
nomoth
Poem Published
27th Oct 2020 9:56pm
27th Oct 2020 9:56pm
Jayne and James
With the hand of my anger,
a fist of dolomite to the moonlight,
I forced this prescient night to bruise the floor
and turn up the corners of its sheet.
Where a life lay unbeholden to the laws of my eyes,
my radio and scent. A ley of dark beehives with black honey
dripping. Glistening under the thunder, the birthday parties
in which I didn't cry; for when I pulled back my hand,
would I, could I ever not give away their secret.
So I had them make for the morning
a mirror from the skin of a snake,
from which it...
a fist of dolomite to the moonlight,
I forced this prescient night to bruise the floor
and turn up the corners of its sheet.
Where a life lay unbeholden to the laws of my eyes,
my radio and scent. A ley of dark beehives with black honey
dripping. Glistening under the thunder, the birthday parties
in which I didn't cry; for when I pulled back my hand,
would I, could I ever not give away their secret.
So I had them make for the morning
a mirror from the skin of a snake,
from which it...
#grief
#dark
#heaven
#emptiness
#RabindranathTagore
553 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems About Rabindranath Tagore Published by Members Recently Online
#RabindranathTagore is curated by Ahavati (Tams).
