in the distance
where desert sands
meet the sky
undulating waves of sound
break the silence
soothed by softly falling night
a balm of star-speckled skies
as lulling music hums and whooshes
almost like an ocean, rhythmic
cooling blistered souls
who wander lost
in the unknown
© Neetu Malik
You play the piano, I listen—
notes slide off
smooth as ambrosia,
dripping a symphony
or a ragtime song
into my senses
parched for so long.
Thirsting for the heady
intoxication to fill
I turn to see your
your dancing fingers,
the world slips away,
as drop by drop,
then sinks into
tunnels of me.
© Neetu Malik
This poem was first published in The Australia Times Poetry Magazine.
I am a very lucky duck to know book reviewer and entertainment journalist Tracy Miller Tracy is also a gifted and prolific poet who has published over 20 books of poetry! After working diligently for over two decades as a lawyer (after winning full scholarships to Temple and University of Pennsylvania Law School), she is now fulfilling her life-long dream of writing full time. And Tracy doesn’t just write poetry and reviews of books and television – she uses her talent to write birthday poems for people she knows, admires, remembers, as well. On July 4, she and her twin sister Stacy celebrated their birthdays, so I wrote Tracy her very own birthday poem and pasted it all over Facebook this past July 4 . And Here is the birthday poem I wrote for her:
A peculiar Lady stands in line
At Whole Foods and the bank.
And if you try to suss her out,
You’re sure to draw a blank.
She speaks into a hand-held mike
And says the strangest things
Of plots and tropes and characters
And poetry that sings.
Her mind’s forever active
And her heart’s always replete.
She’s composing all the live-long day
Her demons to defeat.
She celebrates the lives, the art,
The love both here and gone;
The memories she yet holds close
Their might she pushes on.
She’s like a warm and searching poker
Stirring ashes ‘neath the grate
To find the embers burning there
And make them glow. But wait-
No, not a piece of iron
To grow cold when set aside.
But a lively torch that catches flame
To light the air on which it glides.
Like a Firefly she bops along
Brightening the dark,
Building fires or fanning flames, or
Nurturing a spark.
That well sprung magic of her own …
Oh! Such poetry transports.
To be precious, mentioned, known so well ..
Or just to read these dear reports!
It’s not just about her poems though
That makes her heaven-sent.
The prose she writes in her reviews
Is truly incandescent.
To know that someone’s work reached out
And lit another fuse …
To share the secret, bounding joy
Of audience and muse!
When someone’s efforts speak to her
She tells it to the world
In such detail you’ve never read
Creation is unfurled.
Writing is her full-time gig
After decades of the law.
She made her precious dream come true.
Tracy Miller I applaud!
Tracy, Girl, I know that life
Has hurt along the way.
But know that I am grateful
You and Stacy have this day!
When she was a kid in Scranton, Pennsylvania, Geralyn Vivian Ruane Corcillo dreamed of one day becoming the superhero Dyna Girl. So, she did her best and grew up to constantly pick up litter and rescue animals. At home, she loves watching black & white movies, British mysteries, and the NY Giants. Corcillo lives in a drafty old house in Hollywood with her husband Ron, a guy who’s even cooler than Kip Dynamite.
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