suntannedapples

Saturday, April 10, 2021

A universe in a grain of thought and rivers in a drop of rain.

Wonder why when sitting in rain

holding an umbrella over my head

I stretch my hand to make sure it is rain.

Dreaming the sun in the middle of the night and dreaming the moon in the bright sunlight

I have stayed awake for many a night

and walked in the scorching sun

dreaming the parasol was you covering me

wrapping me around in the dream of you.

Friday, April 9, 2021

Sushama Karnik

17 June

A bird came from an arid land
to rest on my table with a heart forlorn.
I saw it as my duty, a privilege rather,
to extend to the bird a helping hand.
The sunlight caught the bird in its heart and mind,
and spun around the bird a sheathe of light.
The ash-tray on my table,
and the bottle of wine
fell silent. Everything listened intently
to the silent dialogue between the bird and me.
The bird wanted nothing; it needed not
a word of sympathy or pity.
It rested awhile in the serenity
of that morning sun, and the silence that spoke of
something we shared and refused to divulge for a long while.
Birds have prolific histories to tell
of oceans of serenity and the skies in a rage.

Sonali Dalal, Jay Dev and 15 others

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Sushama Karnik Thank you Erika Vees. Today seems to be our day!😊

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5w
György Fülöp
✍️🙏

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5w
Erika Vees Csodás találkozás, amikor nem akar az ember mást, mint a találkozást. ....Wonderful encounter like when one does not want anything else but a meeting with each other

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See translation

5w
Erika Vees Én is úgy gondolom. Nincs távolság, ami szétválassza az egybeillőket...I think so too. There is no distance separating the which Matches

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5w
Andrea Béres Beautiful lines are nice @Sushama! Silence and transient beauty, resting on the elusive moments, move forever into our hearts! Gyönyörű sorok...A megfoghatatlan pillanatokban nyugvó csend és múlandó szépségek örökre szívünkbe költöznek!

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5w

Edited
Jay Dev

THE NOMAD
Sauntering in this place in an anonymous morning
a perfume, a smell haunts.
The grey sky is turning into light,
the birds not stirring yet.
All so quiet in the arms of sleep, and yet I am awake.
Why question things when everything was an answer, everything a dream?
Before a glimpse can rise like this morning
on the hills before the light,
the sky changes, the flicker is gone.

The hardest lesson has begun
when the hand that guides
deliberately hides.
Confusion, light blurred,
nothing speaks.
When left to your device
you improvise.
Your own voice returns in the valley
and pierces the memory like a dart.
In the fading dark nothing is true.
The improvised shanty towns of temporary homes
of nomads, dismantle camps. Caravans move.

"Hurry up", the caravan says,
but the straggler does not listen.
The eyes still fixed on the hills,
the straggler is always the last to leave.

Sushama Karnik
Jul 2, 2015

Monday, April 5, 2021

In War-torn Days

Jun 12, 2016

In war-torn days they met
when they did not know
what to do with life
which brought such love they could neither  take nor hide
Her youth going to seed,
eyes bulging with sleeplessness,
and her hands...
instead of let them hang by her side
she gathered them and held close.
"One day i will come," said he,
"with heaps of currency notes
and a dream-boat; wait for me."
And she said okay.
Years went by and one day she died.
They put her in the coffin,
her hands held close,
one upon the other
as on the day she mutely said,
"Okay, I shall wait."

Sushama Karnik (c)

Art by Oskar Kokoschka
Title if the Painting : Martha Hirsch (1909)

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Sunday, April 4, 2021

From 2015

Originally shared by Sushama Karnik - 1 comment

Untitled : 16
Ancient, primeval in the cosmos
are the interiors
of the Earth, the Man and the Woman.
The Sun, open, candid,burning inside out,
but nothing to hide.
The space too, a vacuum filled with nothing and everything,
but,  allows to be conquered, its vast dimensions, extending, opening,
but never closing.

The more we belong to the Earth, the more we take on her interiors. Caught between flying and deepening, the golden point of balance once lost,
the mind takes on the darkness of the Earth, her forbidden dimensions, the ring pass not that the Earth wears,
close to the centre of her heart!

Over her brow, the billowing ocean, the acme of her beauty,
surging to the calls of the moon,
ever renewed, ever young, the bosom which cradles the sailors in their ships, the undying energy spinning the aura of life of aeons.
And at the interior, an occult boundary, inaccessible to the most intelligent forces of the mystical universe,
Till the base of the oceanic crust, and the journey ends.
Beyond the crust, a mantle, a discontinuity,
life as we know, ends there and the death that we fear, reigns.
Occasionally, perhaps when the darkness is too much to bear,
the lava erupts and reminds the heaven, that darkness too is real

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Sushama Karnik+2

Greetings +Suma Ro and +Shantha Hulme :-)

REPLY

Mar 27, 2017
Shantha Hulme

greetings back dear Sushama!
You are writing poetry
beautifully once again....
a blissful recovery....

REPLY

Mar 27, 2017
Sushama Karnik+2

Thanks Shantha. That was from the year 2015. Suma Ro reposted it. Have a blissful day +Shantha Hulme

REPLY

Mar 27, 2017
Suma Ro+2

No thought
Has ever won
In time
You said,
I am loving you.

Wisdom
Of that light
Is smashing
Hell
Onto the ground.

Far beyond
Has ever gone
The blow,
With wind
I travel on.

For my friend +Sushama Karnik .

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Mar 28, 2017
Shantha Hulme+2

+Suma Ro
that is awfully beautiful...
"Is smashing
Hell
Onto the ground.

Far beyond
Has ever gone
The blow,
With wind
I travel on"

Keep up the inspiration..

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Mar 27, 2017
Shantha Hulme+2

+Sushama Karnik from the '15..
yes you posted some cool stuff then.
Here is one I had fallen in love with, I had saved it under Sushama...
not sure which year...
I think it was in 2015 that fabian discovered you,
Here is one of my favs..

"This little madness, away from the sadness
is welcome O foolish bird !
For without your silliness
this world will have to go without a song,
the howl of the wind will stop.

This world of Nature will miss it all
and go back to its silence of death again;
all will be the unvibrating cosmos again'

.
By Sushama Karnik

So thank you song bird!
-----------------

REPLY

Mar 27, 2017
Sushama Karnik+1

Thank you +Suma Ro and +Shantha Hulme.

Slowly, lovingly,
the clouds stoop
over the earth.
Drops of rain
listen and whistle to the words of the wind and the sea.
Drop by drop
each drop
is soaked in
by the silent earth.
The wonders of the season
show up
in the bristling of the grass-roots.
Rains always carry
a relevance for the wilting earth.

Thank you my friends Suma and Shantha

REPLY

Mar 29, 2017
Suma Ro+1

It is
In our heart
We feel
Flowers
Loosing
Petals
All around.

Om Shanti +Sushama Karnik

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Mar 29, 2017
Shantha Hulme+1

O that is so full of moisture...
when there is a drought on earth...
Trump drought!!
you excel, bring rain..
Long time ago during one winter...was it
fourteen or fifteen?
you wrote a beautiful poem
on winter...and I shared it then...
Gotta locate it when I
got a min.

Rainy kisses
+Sushama Karnik also with a touch of
snow flakes

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Mar 29, 2017
Sushama Karnik+1

+Shantha Hulme As far back as I remember, in 2013, or maybe 14, I had written two poems with you in mind, in one of which I had thought of you as my twin soul. I shall try to retrieve them and repost for you.

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Mar 29, 2017
Shantha Hulme+1

twin souls....what a
compliment. Yes would love to read those.
Pl repost.
kisses

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Mar 29, 2017
Sushama Karnik+1

+Suma Ro Ever so grateful to your wisdom light,
the wishborne light of the spirit bright
that dissipates the fog of the night

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Mar 30, 2017