Purple Passion
Rain, being purple is quite a shame
But being rain, can come back again
Now then Haze, being a kind of mist
Can often be Jimi-kissed
Dye, Tyrian, and its natural tinge
Has origins which make us twinge
Purple, glorious, royal is pure passion
Its a pity it went suddenly out of fashion
Copyright: Rani Turton
poem by Rani Turton
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At Sunset, Today
At sunset, today when the sky turns red
When clouds, try to veil the sky; when birds nest
And are too tired to fly
When workers, tired, straggle back home
And school has closed for the day
And in houses the curtains are drawn
When lights spring into life
And the spirit, tranquil, reflects
On the events of the day
At sunset, today, when the sky turns red
Father, grant everyone his daily bread.
Copyright: Rani Turton
poem by Rani Turton
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My Mind, In Blinding Light
Waits, waits, in a silence that is heavy as pearls.
Waits for the lines and lanes of destiny to redefine
And refine; when the refined mind
Silently doubles and doubletalks itself out of rational thought;
Waits for the light to go, to disperse itself after the gloom
When the eyes can refocus and see
The difference between can and would be.
And destiny weaves her loom,
By blinding light or darkest gloom.
Copyright: Rani Turton
poem by Rani Turton
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Rain When You Drenched Me
Rain, when you drenched me with your cold wet drops
I felt so alone and forlorn
On slick pavements it fell
Alone, along, for long.
Rain, I tried with words to understand your song
The dripping, the dropping
The downpour, the fury and the flurry
Alone, along, for long.
Rain, I felt humble when you fell and wet the city
As you were absorbed by the soil
Rivers waited for you, bareheaded I walked
Alone, along, for long.
Copyright: Rani Turton
poem by Rani Turton
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The Night, Glorious, Unbending
The night, glorious, unbending,
Takes and gives nothing away
The night, silent, refuses the alms offered by day
Day, loquacious, has questions and answers
But the night doesn't even ponder
Looks far ahead, yonder
Night silently turns away.
Day is curious about these silences
That stretch into infinity: silences that stretch
Until the pale dawn arises
Silences that from ages past and ages to come
Are the very inscrutable embodiment
Of what the night has become.
poem by Rani Turton
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Destiny, Dragging On
My destiny is tired.
The slope leads upwards, onwards,
Into clouds and far beyond.
My destiny, like me, walks slowly
Mumbles softly
Remembers ancient rhymes.
My destiny, not knowing why
Hardly realising that every game has it's rules
Has decided to try
Though, tired, and betrayed,
A little bit frayed
Has decided
To carry on, far beyond, with aching feet,
On the winding path, the trees
The boulders and rocks
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poem by Rani Turton
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It is So Hard to be Alone
It is so very hard to be alone; from dawn to dusk
From dusk to dawn, alone, alone alone.
From a chant to a rant to a highpaying job
To an apartment in St Germain des Pres
That everybody wants to rob.
It is very hard to be a cog in the wheel
It is very hard to be a cog without a wheel
To turn, to burn in one's flaming solitude.
From birth to death, this profession of existence
Making an art of solitude, an act of independance.
It is so easy to die alone.
Copyright: Rani Turton
poem by Rani Turton
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Strum, Strum Gently and My Heartstrings Sing
Strum, strum gently and my heartstrings sing
A song that comes from deep within
Words that coin their own phrases
And that is how I begin
A terrible ballad of love
I can speak of emotional hiatus
Begin at the beginning and then
Let this song sing about us
Strum gently and let the world fade away
The time I have with you will soon end;
There is a meaning to this interlude,
I have a liftime this heart to mend.
Strum, strum gently, do not pause when
The words do not come;
Thus my heart will continue to beat
And I to this love will succumb.
poem by Rani Turton
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The River Ran Red: The Kalinga War
The river ran red; thousands died as they gave their lives
The king bowed his head; Widows and orphans this day
Families in mourning, and he, only he, was the cause.
The river ran red. Resistance at the cost of lives
Humans and animals died side by side
The mutilation and the pain, the Daya flowing red, flowing red
And thus it came about that
He knelt and cheeks wet, the King wept.
Edicts in stone that speak. Misery and bloodshed
But no glory. As far from glory as conscience can be
Watching the mayhem in misery..
The river ran red. The King wept.
Copyright: Rani Turton
poem by Rani Turton
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Solitude, Singing
Being alone is knowing
That in in this solitary splendour
Solitude, stark and staring,
Solitude, singing a lullaby
Solitude, singing a dirge
Surrounded by so many sundry things;
Things seen and unseen
Factors known and unknown
Solitude singing softly, chanting without ranting
Solitude’s songs that sing of solemn things
Silence singing golden songs
Silence healing ancient wrongs
If only silence could be
More than a memory
More than history
Silence can be more than words
Empty words echoing in an empty world
Echoing in empty valleys
Silence unspoken, unspoken, unbroken
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poem by Rani Turton
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