Saturday, August 29, 2015

THY FOLD



Tranced
Heart upswells,
unto her feet

Prest my beat;
a single loan
of my heart

Thy beauty
doth inform
stillness of love

Amid bandwagon rites
I rolled the dust
with the longest glee

With braided breath
I roped thee
into 'me'

O, those of trance!
Cleave not thy bond
Tuck me into thy fold

A PENNY IN MY POCKET



Not lesser was the appetite
to buy fruits from the vegetable market,
with a penny in my pocket

I hankered after my passion
salivating my thirst,
to own an ounce of that fruit piece

No less was beauty more voluptuous
than with green lush and luscious flavour
that stacked fruits one over the other

I consoled my disappointment
banking pungent odour by my nose;
A putrified smell with stinking stem, there-after

A penny in my pocket!

SILENT FEET



Walking our thoughts
in goodness, we see
a clear sky, hung;
Over our heads

Hearing the gallop
in mighty heave, we lend ears
down the path, an image;
restoring my failing sight

Breathing peace of air
in numbness, we cleanse
our inward eyes, easing
moral strife to go

Observing things
in varied impressions, we feel
the silent feet, prized;
over spirited mood

Curl my beat

How I curl my beat
to thy eternal womb.
Every line you sketch
opens up a vast space!

BAD OMEN



I can never understand
your bigger weight;
the denouement of your vast space

A bud of reason, that
offshoot by my cursory glance
slight my tender life

Plethora of drunken imagery
dribble the plight in scarcity;
brewing poverty of faith

I can never own
your subtle form;
the irony of flight prat my being

The potency of strength
that vile me now
Debase morality

A shooting star, that
surge down the sky
augur a bad omen

ODOUR OF LOVE



When sweet words
croon our ears,
Hearts trills
resonating its beat

When the leaves
have its hue fresh;
Fragrance of love
Comes, blooming near

I manoeuvre tactics
contriving a scheme;
to inhale, fresh
An odour of love

REALITY OF LOVE



When I wear
the only apparel to thy
sweet memory;
In credit,
I orb thy sweetest love

When I demolish
the wall of fear
crumbling down;
In tranquillity
I bask, orbiting thy love

When I wane
the façade of illusion
hanging high;
In greater image
I perfect, thy reality of love

THY KNOT


I was waiting for you
In heart of my hearts,
Prowling fearless
In an ocean auburn

I tried summoning you
In births and deaths,
Calling vociferous
Words of thy silence

I was nailed
To bleed my shadow,
Shooting black
My tanned blood

How can thee
Sever a tie.
Have I
Offended thy knot

POST CARD AND INLAND



Post Card and Inland
are the privileged few
smelling old and sweet.
Hand written letters
all smeared with love;
A family filum
of all antiquity, and
a golden bough of communication
dripping the gravity of
said and un-said
in different hues
of parched and baby blue:
Post Card and Inland!

GOLDEN BLOOM



Today it rained heavily
Giving visible forms of dribble and drops
in an overcast sky.
A solitary tear trickled down my cheeks
Giving pleasure in tiny droplet

Not that it aroused
Wholeness in that tiny whole
but, an embodied self
bigger than me
Came piquing with curiosity

Towards the dim light
sipping in from the dark clouds
I could guess
Someone nodding his say
ascending my faith:
That golden bloom coveting my wish

HEART OF DARKNESS



Now, that
You have bigger tusk to show
in beauty; thy ivory greed

Who planted a bigger tusk
on your canine teeth, that
you sparkle grinning cruel smile

Now, that
You have longer tuft to desire
In ashes; your abundance lie

Who sever the light
by grey hounds of darkness
My irony peeve on your pretence

Now, that
I have no reason to cleave
I affirm 'Heart of Darkness'

ULTA SHASTRA



Swill the gun barrel
cleansing with fur and peace

Paraded to the grave
'Ulta Shastra' tunes

Raise the bier sky high
Beaming bravery and blood

Hold the hilt firm
Rolling tears with might and muscle

Let freedom rinse
the bravery of our martyr

When all sleeps
Our borders are awake in the night

I bow, I bow
To to take the dust of thy feet

'Ulta Shastra' tunes
Vande Mataram!

Thursday, August 13, 2015

SIJO

What strangeness crept in mauling my dreams that never casted any shadow, nor reality, to pin
Perhaps emotions were symbolic in effect, but weirder was my tears that never came to fore
All radiance denied, I varied the pace of cadence in pleasure and pain, modulating the flow

............

With feet of joy I rub my shoes, all day long for a brighter Sun
In soft murmur I opine an anklet round my silvery legs, as the night falls
Twilight yawn takes a fur to my illusion, one more quill to subdue strength

............

Daily hunger savour roti and rice, relishing it with longer tongue
Banned fast-food tempt me forked, by its bright and crunchy wrapper
Many sour and sweet fruits are hung by the tree branches, raw and ripe

............

No moving imprints of steel letters are coming out from the old typewriter
The authorities must have taxed heaviely the imports, to ration the carbon ink
A rope is needed to paint the blood blue for the gallow and hang person's writ

............

Life's playful perky stance fret the state of my anxiety
Invisible warm hands touch my life's colder pulse
Dog's long stretching yawn belie to justify its act

TO MY LOVE



I float my hands
to dapple my touch
on the clear maple shrub
loaded with full leaves

Now many waving tentacles
of blooming happiness
looms out a fruit, fresh
from the crevices;
A sentinel to my joy

To spot the merger
I darted and dived.
More brightness came out
unflinching to my love

OPTICS OF LOVE



Into your framed glasses
of photo-chromatic lenses
mirror my eyes, with
A pattern of my love

I have, but, one thick
Convex lens to wear
by my weak stony eyes, and
an alms; begging your love

Do me all
to epitomize my love.
Miracle gains sustenance
In optics of love

OTHER LAND



There must be
other dimensions of silent spaces
in our stretching vastness,
clashing violently
with each other;
making its own vocabulary of war and win

Rimmed with passionate qualm
I slice my present urge
with thicker remorse:
Why with a noise,
birth gives a cry, and
Why with an end
It dies feeding the space
For fun

There, I explode
Like a giant star.
There, I burn suns and moons.
There, I quaff the burning ember
As Shiva consumed the ‘Poison’
Churning an ocean of milk

One more silence
For a demand;
One more victory for a win;
One more beyond, for a beyond;
One more birth for an immortal man;
No cry and no death
No war and nothing to win

O, denizen of other land!

SWEET DREAMS



With what aplomb
I discovered richness
in colour of thy resplendent heart,
all sweetness, thy voice
made a jaggery to my heart

All weak forces
that
wrought and twisted my form;
Flexed before my eternal faith
The only One
That,
Wished glories to no ends

With what suppleness
I purview thy stance
The whole expanse to thy world, seems
A clump of candy
To my sweet dreams

HECTARES OF LAND



Take the wrath of flowers
Keeping all burial under the earth;
Move with an undulating thoughts
Burning all the words within

Bang the shouts with silent stare
Keeping peace on the dove's wings;
Go out to seed hectares of land
Seeing greenery in dancing dreams

Take the task with toil and tan
Live the world singing beat of heart;
Witness the symphony exiting this world
Complete the stillness, where you must

Many more hectares of land to till...

PING-PONG THE 'TIME'



If by kicking the rock to roll
will silence the talk;
Will it happen again, that
By resuming the talk
The rock will roll back its place, again.

If by pulling the Sun to beam
will torch the galaxies midnight;
will it happen again, that
By gathering the dark matter
The sun will reposition its take

If by force of pen
the will of an ink bloat page after page;
will it happen again, that
By spilling the pages back
the history won't repeat itself

If by hopping the warped spaces
will ping-pong the 'time';
will it happen again, that
By playing the 'time'
Can we not peep the wormhole!

AS BALD AS DEATH



Must I wear 'Bata' shoes
A gentleman’s hat;
Put on 'Raymond' coat,
a glittering tie, or
A shining belt
a creased trouser
and, buckle all,
to walk my poetry, in

though
I bash a blush
to put lipstick
like, a women do;
bangles that clink the wrist
or,
a sari to cloak my skin
or,
high heels for a sturdy walk

I
a half man, and
a woman too

fully ornamented

a bridegroom
and a bride,
to marriage my ‘self’, and
My beauty too

Not that 'm chimera or phoenix
Or
God of any kind

or,
must I show my bald head,
femur, shaking calcified bones,
a walking through the cane
that I do, and
slurry my path along;
lingering and pausing, repeatedly
along, the fearful path
Where it blows
its last horn
as bald as death

पनाहगीर



उन्हीं से जाकर पूछो
कितने रकबे प्यार के, मैंने
सिसकियों तले
लहू की लकीर से बटोरा है

उनके किस नक़्शे ख्वाब में, वल्द
अपने को नहीं पाया है

मांनिंद उनके जरा सी आह से
कभी मरने तक के ख्याल आते थे;
अब तो लगता है, मैं
किसी रह गुजर से इत्फ़ाक रखता हूँ

उनके किस पायल की झंकार से, मैंने
आंसुओं की मोती को नहीं सराहा

अब तो सांसों की आहट तले
जिंदगी भी बेमानी लगती है;
अब तो लाज़ की रवानी से
हया की बू आती है

रोज जमींदोज़ होता हूँ मैं
एक नए पनाहगीर की तरह