A poem must be simple, like counting.

You utter a number and the next follows

on its own. On and on it goes,

linking one to the other

until reaching Infinity.

Like counting, a poem should

be clear to us all:

we must glean the value of each digit,

and that value remains unchanged

anywhere in the universe it may explore.

Odds and evens, as in numbers,

both carried in each poem,

and whatever the digit is

becomes an integral part of the number.

As in counting, a poem

gives value to zero

with its digits,

and from the front lead the people

who are declared insignificant.


Fresh Voices - https://poets.ca/fresh-voices-22/ (Jan 21)



Whenever there is whispering in solitude

ears are alert,

eyes look in the direction opposite,

mind catches the events behind.

My daughter knows the truth

that I am hearing all,

though pretending not listening.

She asks what colour I like.

A colour-card starts running in thoughts.

My mind never stops anywhere

the colour I think, fades

going from the deepest to the lighter ones.

I see the colours

yet unknown to me.

I see multicoloured mermaids,

hovering butterflies,

birds pass by ramp-walking,

the rainbow shimmers.

Still the mind does not pick up the choice.

She asks again

‘you don't even know that?’

and giggles out loud.

I see the colour; I like the most

the color of her laughter -

All the colors are visible in it.


(LEAP Chapbook 2022 by the League of Canadian Poets)