Light – Bouncing Beams, Waking from verdant fervent dreams. Reviving scent in the wind, Fresh as green mint. I know this scent. I know what it meant. Take fresh air from dreams – Aspire. Reed in hand to realize… That desire. Poem by Sanjeev ‘Cimeries’ Retnasingam
A summers night. What a damn sight?! A beautiful breeze, Won’t sear nor freeze. A scent like no other, One best shared with a lover. The day’s sweat dries, While the crescent rock rises. The stars shimmer and dance, I yearn to prance. A warm palm in hand, Nothing else to demand. This could be … More Summer Night
A desperate cry. A desperate lie. A full cask. A stone mask. We put on a smile, Push away a mile. Day in day out, Till eyes fill with drought. Be thick skinned, Fresh as a mint. Not as thin as a reed. Nor easily bleed. Same mask we all bear Though different sears and … More Maskless World
When glee fills the air, Only I know it’s fare – A price of nightmares And skin peeled back bare. This cold stare That they all share. Always ready to steer My path of rough stairs – Is all but rare. I’ve been down here Like it’s my career. Like always… Endure and bear. Ascend … More My Bane called Life
Met by moonlight – Scarlet skies. The Vermillion district – Countless lies. Only Blue, are you & I. With Red lips you kiss. I get high. I know you lie… but I’m blue and Green. Teach fast and wipe this Cream clean. Nails dig deep, you shroud me in Midnight. I slip the Gold… You … More Curse of the Blue Moon
Where do you find the wise? Under a tree? Or near the sea? By the boulder and rocks? Or a waterfall beside the loch? Maybe the hermit in its shell, Can show and tell. Or the nomad that soars, Will show the right door. Don’t look far, Just look within. Pain, discourse and sin – … More Where Wisdom Writes
Once a blue moon, Withers the boon. Tides of tomorrow, Never comes to my howl of sorrow. The walls of stone, Share the blood in my bone. Stand tall and firm – In my way. Tide that never comes – I’ll never have my say. Only harsh winds they permit. Weathering. Withering. Pain. I Submit. … More Misery of the Mountain
Blood is thicker than wine. I suppose… But not mine. Red weak and thin. Enough to bleed from scratched skin. Could lose a few pints and be fine. Better the white line and dry wine. Thinning every day. Losing the will to stay. Passing straight through the heart. Fast and careless like a dart. My … More The Runt of the Litter
The night may be cold. Shivering shadows, scold. But here I stand, With umbrella in hand. Clad in cold hard steel, Your grey fur and blue eyes of zeal. I can be your shield, Will you help me heal? Poem By Sanjeev ‘Cimeries’ Retnasingam
Strings of light, which beckon to the call. Shimmering and dancing. Giggling with each fall. Scavenging and feeding on last night’s gloom. Swiftly multiplying. Crawling through, weaving a loom. Warmer than before. Easing the eyes. Ready for the long rest, from this body of ice. Poem By Sanjeev ‘Cimeries’ Retnasingam
Art of Cimeries 