Category: Poet's Day by Neetu Malik

Neetu Malik's poetry.

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Searching for Flamenco

June 26, 2022 by Neetu Malik in category Poet's Day by Neetu Malik tagged as dancers, flamenco, guitar, Neetu, Spain

Searching for Flamenco

The streets of Seville keep
their best secrets hidden in the dark

cobbled paths wind in stillness
I wonder where all the dancers have gone
cafes and restaurants throb with the pulse
of a late night soiree

the candles have burned down to stubs
but the servers will not turn out the night
until platters of paella and pitchers of sangria last

I ask where I might find a tablao,
to be charmed and mesmerized

taking directions, I walk into the soft beam
of streetlights through the tangled sleeping town
on the other side

it is so quiet—
what is tucked behind the old buildings
in a walled courtyard I can barely glimpse?

I walk inside—
ensconced in a shell
of darkness, burns the fire
of a woman, her back finely arched
she is attired in a ruffled gypsy dress

her voice reaches
into the desert…………

the man with the guitar plucks on strings—pulling me inside

I have arrived.

In the Moonlight

in moonlight's soft sheen
I bare all that I am

it's the sun's harsh rays
that send me scurrying
into dark caves and crevices
where I am enveloped
in the shell
worn and roughened
through years        and tread
of time's wheels,    cracked by

aches and maladies
with marks etched deep
in my self



© Neetu Malik

War

I try 
to find words for war

how it wrecks, how it feels
but
there is no language I find
to reach

that space inside me
to define the terror
give utterance 
to grief

why war when
there is no winning

when there is only loss
and losing

no matter which side
you're on



© Neetu Malik

see as they for they are us

see as they who walk alone
blindly staring to atone
the sins committed on fellow man
when what they need is a helping hand
someone to guide them along the path
through minefields of humanity unscathed

see as those who bury their dead
disease running rampant, too many unfed
victims of hatred, ignorance, abhorred
collateral damage in another man’s war
to those still giving when all is lost
who care for others, no matter the cost

see as they who take one step
forward progress, a movement swept
to not disdain someone on sight
and realize everyone has the right
to live a life filled with hues
to love in peace and not abuse

see as they who stand proud
love is fertile and grows abound
make way the hoe to till the soil
weed the hate, uproot the spoiled
open your palm to plant the seeds
offer a smile so more may feed

see as they who know the sins
of what humanity has done to them
yet open their arms to love one another
belying religion, creed, or skin color
to heal the pain that others commit
by offering themselves compassionate

©2022 Diane Sismour

Deep Roots

I will weave you garlands
of dazzling wisteria
twine the flowers
with stems of love
growing from roots
seeded strong and deep
where the ground stays warm
and evergreen.


© Neetu Malik

Poem written for my children, 2019.