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Lake Poems by George Freek

Starry Night by Vincent Van Gogh( 1853-1890)

ENNUI AT WONDER LAKE 

Clouds like pillows
smother the moonlight,
in a false embrace.
Waves beat the shore,
like clenched fists
beating on a door
that refuses to open.
My thoughts are banal,
but I don’t feel capable
of anything more.
The stars are like fireworks,
as the cosmos
passes over my head
like an amazing circus.
But I’ve seen it all before.

AT DUSK NEAR THE LAKE 

The years are piling up
like snow on a roof,
but my hair gets thinner.
The moon seems trapped
like an insect
in the branches of a tree.
A dove beckons
to his mate.
But I don’t think
She wanted to wait. Birds
like human can be fickle. 
The dove abandons his tree,
and life moves on,
but he leaves his
message for me.
The woods are deep
and I’m still free.
What will be, will be.

George Freek’s poetry has recently appeared in The Ottawa Arts Review, Acumen, The Lake, The Whimsical Poet, Triggerfish and Torrid Literature.

PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

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Two Poems

By adi (Adithya Patil)

Payments

“money?” i ask my mother.

.

“it’s something you pay with, child”, she says

in the usual tone of infinite patience.

“those cars you have, this thomas train,

we pay for these, understand?”

.

i blink, then slowly nod

.

into the classroom, where i

suddenly stir myself from dream.

ms.akira is pointing her chalk at me.

the classroom is in hysterias.

.

“CONCENTRATE! CHILD!! PAY ATTENTION!!”

.

oh, leave me alone. please, let me go.

i’m only a child, so poor;

i cannot even fumble

my heart for attention.

.

A Day In Kashmir

.

Tuesday. At the garden.

You pick tulips.

Orange like dusk.

Nostrils inhale.

Scent of freedom.

Srinagar shrinks within.

Petaled walls.

Somewhere.

Sound of drilling.

Distant. Banal.

You raise the flower.

The sky halts.

Tulip smells.

Suddenly cold.

Copper. Sanguine.

Sound of drilling.

Now louder.

Blink twice.

Stop. Listen.

Now read slowly:

These are not lands of construction.

.

adi or Adithya Patil is a student based in Bangalore, India. He was a recipient of the Times Scholars Programme 2019. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in different journals including Scarlett Leaf Review, The Drabble and Literary Yard.

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PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL.

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The Girl in the Painting

By Shyamasri Maji

The Girl in the Painting The sky and the sea do not mate, yet they have a child of their own It plays across the city tonight like a painter's whimsical brush on the open edges of a black canvas with eyes wide open and says, “Look! The pink flowers on the huge hoarding of a five star hotel are apologising to a bar dancer, for whom nobody clapped today.” I saw the flowers, I smiled at the bar dancer smoking in a red cab and gazed at the malls drizzling specks of light like the crackers in Deepavali, The streets flowed like rivulets in the faraway hills I visited in kindergarten: Little heads danced like a huge caterpillar in the season of Spring festival The blue bird sang to a pickpocket leaning against a sparkling sedan car. Under the noisy shed of a tea stall, I waited for you with black and white patience! The painter smiled and bent my left arm to thrust an umbrella in my pencil hand He said, “Girl! Why do you stand under the grey shed of turpentine imagination?” The thunder struck yellow, the river Nile spilled all over my trembling contour I tried to recall your telephone number in the blue folds of my wet salwar kameez , But, like an unclaimed bicycle in an olive-green lane of a closed factory town I had to walk in the splashing streets of muddy pain, all alone in the wooden rain.

Shyamasri Maji is an Assistant Professor in English at Durgapur Women’s College in West Bengal. She completed her MA, M.Phil and PhD in English from the University of Burdwan. She wrote her doctoral thesis on ‘Anxiety of Representation in Select Anglo-Indian Writers.’ She writes poems and short stories on the experiences of Indian women. Her stories have been published in ‘Unish Kuri,’ Muse India, Six Seasons Review and The Story Mirror. Her poems have been published ‘Setu,’ ‘Kolkata Fusion’ (blog) and ‘Indian Periodical.’  

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PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL.