Saturday, May 30, 2009

Hm ...

... like a volcano, tonight
I am a sitting here and ... write ...


  1. ...just thinking...

    'A silent ebony night
    still no fear, no fright
    coase I am not alone
    There is someone who is known.

    They are the tiny drops from the sky.
    who are so pure that they connot deny
    They quitely listen to all that we say
    then, touch the earth or vanish in a bay.

    I love to walk in the rain
    cause no one can feel my pain.
    No one can see me cry
    cause tears mix with them and finally die.'

    Written by Mondal.

  2. ...just remembering...

    on a window
    slowly slide down
    like tears
    on cheeks.

    It leaves a mark
    one can erase
    with a tissue.

    But glass withstands
    a huge amount of rain.
    My face
    is all used up
    by tears.

    Is it the salt in them
    that deepens the wrinkles
    and burns, anew, the wound?

    Written by Claude.

  3. Hans -
    Mondal writes so beautifully of the rain's companionship, sharing, hiding and healing our pain through the night.

  4. Now, what a surprise. :) What a lovely surprise.

    Dear Hans, dear Claudia,
    thank you very very much.

  5. Sean, you're welcome.
    Used to write poems until a publiser saw my work and wanted to publish it...I was frightened, as a stone...and I wrote maybe 4 or 5 poems more and stopped..I was 24.))

    Since I'm good in 'misleading' people they offered me a job in advertisement, the rest is history.)

    Beautiful poem dear Claude!
    Cordiales salutations