John Gallar
San Jose, California
John GallarSan Jose, California |
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John Gallar - Engineer and Educator by profession, Poet - by birth. Education - BSME, MSME and Ph.D. degrees. Professor of Engineering, Director of Post Graduate Studies at several renowned universities. Engineer, Manager and Consultant at numerous semiconductor and medical companies in Silicon Valley. Published over 50 scientific papers and obtained several patents. Published poems in eleven anthologies of the National Library of Poetry, such as Best Poems of 1995, Best Poems of 1996, The Best Poems of the 90s, etc. Has been awarded the Third Price Medal for poem "1939". John's poems are classical in form, somewhat of the Vergilius style, but the content of his poetry reflects human concerns, and feelings of our times. |
1939Sticky fog patches bedew squinty eyes,Faint wail of skylark falls deep into heart... Smoke from burned quitch grass licks face with a tart, Leaves whipper prayers falling from the skies... Autumn begins its mystery design... What autumn is it? Is it 39? Innocent shadows crawl over the trees, Children catch sun spots in a morning play; Suddenly rattling...Bullets spatter clay... Do they pretend that they gap for the breeze? Who are these children? No, they are not mine... What autumn is it? Is it 39? Panic and anguish; Alone, all alone! Blotted wings bursting with flickering flames... Hundreds - all running in last mortal games... The skies are empty; the shadows are gone... Autumn is dandling a baby from whine... What autumn is it? Is it 39? Sunset turns misty, chills run down the spine, Stubborn time trickles... Why?...Why 39? |
HopeLook at the blooming frangipani...Calm down your heart, just sit and listen... The drums are talking, fire flies glisten, Tomorrow will again be sunny.. Beacons of flame-trees, shy and hazy On malachite of endless prairie Will talk to you like old, good fairy How life is fragile, but amazing... Flickering skies immerse in glare, Far away lightnings fade like worries... Listen to drums and their stories; We must reach further than we dare... Don't hush cicadas stubborn chatter; It drains away all pain and sorrow... Look at the skies how they are stunning! Forget the worries ... they don't matter, You'll see ... Just wait, wait till tomorrow... And smell your branch of frangipani... |
At dawn...At dawn foamy clouds wash off melting copper and brass,Blinking skies open eyes and blush looking down under, Languid plains wash off stains of last night murky blunder And grass hoppers stubbornly shake off dew drops on grass... At dawn mushy birds - husbands sing for mothers to be, Hungry bees buzz in trees that dress up for heat hours, In their shade - on parade - ants leave cozy clay towers, And deer sniff at cornflowers in last moments of spree... At dawn through open window sprinkle few drops of dew... Fairy tales fade, grow pale, and the dreamy heart hushes... Daylight beads brush eyelids, sink in twinkling eyelashes, And the room, home, the whole world slowly fill - up with you... |