Sunday, August 26, 2012

The Return


Courtesy: kellyyp.blogspot.com
 A poem from my book " So I Used Gray and other poems" ( Published by Writers Workshop, Kolkata)

  
The flicker of her little heart
Or flutter of her fluffy feather,
The dazzle of her quenched eyes
Or cravings to shoot free in air,
And liberate her self from the sighs
And fill her lungs below the foliage
Oh! She has been long within the cage,
So with golden string clutching her claw
One day, atop the golden bar,
She was flown to dreamland afar.

“Go and see the world my dear
And perform the master's Raqs Sharqi* ,
Your lungs breathe the alien air
But your soul under his locks and key
Within the solid walls of piteous prison
Wriggling in rigours of strict discipline,
Be happy, be merry and woefully gay
Deep within the Guantanamo Bay.”
Said her admirer, who soars free
Up above the Chatim tree.

Up and up he rises to hear
If at all he could catch her trill,
If at all some fragmented tune
Overflows down the distant hill,
But alas, the crestfallen admirer-
Hears dry wind, blowing down,
That sucks the blood from his veins;
Crestfallen he plummets down in pains
And picks up twigs with utmost zest
Hoping one day she returns to his nest.




*Raqs  Sharqi  is a classical belly dance of Egypt.


Thursday, January 19, 2012

The Breeding Boon





No politician ever pointed his finger at
Uncontrolled breeding of humans in our land,
Half fed souls where bred like jaunty rats
Stressing meager resource, that our country had;
Skin on bones they are and scantily clad-
A leader knows these men will come to them,
His leftovers is all these men have ever had
For ages these half nourished bodies were his game
More heads brought more grants, a vote in every name.





(A Spenserian stanza)

Friday, January 13, 2012

A CASE OF RAJA & RANI




All pervading gloom I daily see
The snail’s pace of Democracy
At last the King is in custody
After hue and cry      
With years of coffer-looting spree
And he wasn’t shy.



The Rani later followed suit
With an MP’s tag to boot,
Ill gotten money, black as soot
She obtained,
From companies that vendored fruit,
Which, she never ate.    



After the cry for justice surged
One ninety days in jail she served
But Delhi’s strings are attached
Deep in south,
No commoner to her stature matched
So she walked out.
                                      






(A Burns Stanza on 2G scam)














Saturday, January 7, 2012

Hold me not


                                                      


















Hold me not as the moment has stealthily come
From the fateful abbeys of dark holes,
To ruthless time let’s seek the balm-
Hold me not.

Let the cord that tie our fateful souls
Silently part, without humdrum,
Let secret tears flow far from consoles.

 O’ bees, what monotonous laments you hum
 Cronies- Stop the heart- wrenching carol!
 I need no parting tears, let my strings charm,
 Hold me not.


 (A Roundel)





 ( Published by The Journal of The Poetry Society, India, 2011)

Friday, September 16, 2011

Ephemeral moments-III- A haiku


 

Mid winter night,
      Dogs howl in the street for warmth
            We dream in warm bed.

Ephemeral Moments--II - A haiku




The sea washed sun
 Jumps out of the cold water 
To wipe out darkness.

Ephemeral Moments- A haiku


  
      
                            In midsummer dusk
                            Gold dissolves on the Ganges
                            Conch-croons fill the banks.
                             
(NB: In the evening the Hindu ladies pray blowing the SHANKHA or conch shell)