My National Poetry Month challenge to myself has become a collaboration between synaesthetic artist Sammy-John, myself, Anjum Wasim Dar and Jay Gandhi: Day Twenty-Nine: B Major Blue

B Major Blue

B Major Blue
Oil on canvas

B major blues

Badlapur Local # 11
In a first class compartment
there are blue seats having
soft cushion.

In a second class compartment
there are brown seats made of wood.
some people discuss
the others are contemplating
the next step to be taken
because the water supply
would be cut by the time
they reach home.

By Jay Gandhi


Let Me Pass Through

city walls
that bind all your threads together,

walk through this wood,
let your cityself take same walk, see
buildings as lone trees,

homeless hostel
is an oak, butchers
a willow that bends
down over the stream
where jammed traffic swims.

A dead bird breathes
animated by flies
is a man in the corner who sings
the blues to passers.

That fall of a leaf
tickertape homecoming parade.
Your pavement footfall
echoes in my forest.

2019 Paul Brookes

B Major Blues
Draped in green, the coffin
seemed to drift, on the swarmed
dark ocean of enslaved humanity
chanting choral cries, moaning
overtures sailed through the
bayoneted air
Yet another youth martyred
lifted to be lowered in sacred earth
grief sonorous reverberated from
depth to edge, from gorge to cliff
rainbows metamorphosed to the blues
Widowed women wailed
in cordoned courtyards, stood
shoulder to shoulder, gaped at
baleful death  in powerful sinews,
pain swayed in gown and hood
blood spoke red, shroud ached in
wailful lament, joyful symphonies
divorced forever from colorful
melodies  to perpetual  B Major Blues

2019 © CER      Anjum Wasim Dar

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