The House

Are you afraid

When you hear the groan?

It’s no one else

But the empty house

It remembers

The joyful shouts

Of the happy children

Cycling on its pathway

On each page of its memory

There are stories

Written in gold letters

Not all happy

Yet there was no dearth of emotion

Now its garden is a wilderness

Three brave souls

Who went there to spend a night

Never came out

Nor was there any trace of them

It’s no tourist spot

That you buy ticket to explore

And enjoy

Beware! Don’t get caught!

The house broods

And lets mystery grow around

 

Submitted to APED Prompt-62 Weekend Wordle#9

&

Shared with Poetry Pantry @ Poets United

A Word That Rose

A Word that Rose—

Though mild - It seemed

Grew - Twisted Twirled and Cold

Became a Thorn that shot a heart

Beyond the Realm of Right—

A Word that Iced a fountain-smile

Like souls in limbo Stays

In pain – regretful sighs

No Earth – nor – Hell – neither Heaven

 

I used Dickinson’s poem A WindThat Rose for my inspiration

                                                         

Posted for MTB dVerse where we are writing in the style of Emily Dickinson

Acceptance

Misery

You are also a gift

Of kindness

From God

As it is from Him

I accept you

From the bottom of my heart

 

Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Acceptance @ Poets United

In Tune with Nature

source

Whenever I get a chance

I visit the Ganga

To listen to her melodious voice

She wraps me up with her cool breeze

And sponges up my despair

Little Shushuks* in her bosom

Leap up in joy

Such is the Ganga

Once I came across

The Himalayas

He was serenity itself

Incarnated in tranquil rocks

Showering bliss and peace

Calming all waves of thoughts

Pouring in appreciation

For having a life

Such are the Himalayas

                  

 

*Ganges river dolphins

 

Posted for dVerse Poetics: In Tune with Nature

In Memoriam

source

A

Teacher

His each breath

Taught us to live

A life with purpose

To birth dream in our hearts

We light our torch from your wings**

No was Next Opportunity

And FAIL was First Attempt In Learning

Let these words penetrate deep in our bones

(I used the Etheree form, which is an unrhymed syllable counting form. It begins with a first line of one syllable and continues for ten lines increasing the syllable count by one each line.)

 

*In memory of our beloved former President of India, Dr. A.P.J. Abdul Kalam, who was a great teacher, an eminent scholar and scientist and a wonderful leader who passed away last night of a heart attack while he was speaking on “Livable Planet”

 

**Wings of Fire, autobiography of Dr. Kalam

 

Posted for the word prompt “Teach” @ APED

&                            

Shared with The Tuesday Platform @ Real Toads

This Poem Is.......

photo by Margaret @ Real Toads

                     I

This poem has abyss eyes

Of the blistering souls

Who live on burnt landscape of suicide*

Yet dreaming of the sky to melt into blue water

And douse the hunger-flame in each gut

This poem is a groan

 

                     II

This poem pulls each groan to unite

Against the hot powdery earth

And birth deep ponds, trap rains, heed to BAIF

Whose labor of love would give magic yearns

To weave dreams of higher life

This poem is a battle-cry

 

                     III

This poem shows how magic was wrought

How soil’s wrath mellowed into green dreams

How drought’s vengeance was on the back foot

How prosperity embraced one and all

How every atom danced to the rhythm of life

This poem is a victory

 

                     IV

This poem is a groan of despaired souls

This poem is their united battle-cry

This poem is the magical victory of Man

*In 2012, the National Crime Records Bureau of India reported 13,754 farmer suicides. India is an agrarian country with around 60% of its people depending directly or indirectly upon agriculture. Farmer suicides account for 11.2% of all suicides in India.^[1] Activists and scholars have offered a number of conflicting reasons for farmer suicides, such as monsoon failure, high debt burdens, genetically modified crops, government policies, public mental health, personal issues and family problems.^[4][5][6] There are also accusation of states fudging the data on farmer suicides. Source: Wikipedia.

 

 I used the No. 3 prompt Imagined by Hannah "Boomerang Metaphors"

Posted for Margaret’s Play it Again, Toads @ Real Toads

 &

 Shared with Poetry Pantry @ Poets United

Taxman

source

 When you are in this prison

Of the body

Beware of the Taxman

 

It’s not “There is one for you, and nineteen for me”

He will “take it all”

Awaits patiently the Taxman

 

Your service begins at birth

You pay with your ailment, fear and sorrow

Mail comes from the Taxman

 

He is the Sovereign

You are the subject living in false premise

There is the Taxman

 

Your heat of life will inevitably dim

“The pennies on your eyes” will stare

Will you see the Taxman?

 

This is His system

If His advices are kept

Happy is the Taxman

 

Written for M’s Get Listed – July @ Real Toads

 

Quotes are from Beetles' Taxman...

(The listed words were: taxman, heat, prison, fear, mail, inevitable, premise, sovereign, system, advice, beware, kept)

Unity

source

My prayers for all

To be the bridge

Between discord and harmony

To be the thin crack of light

Between two banks of darkness

To be the spritely spring

Between blazing summer and icy winter

To become One

With All That Is

 

Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Unity @ Poets United

Trains

source

The old man’s indolent moments

On the railway platform on a bench

Pass luxuriantly watching

These huge steel centipedes

Pouring out humans from their

Square metallic yawn

And taking away equal amounts

To some near and distant places

After long hours were well fed with dreams

He rises and goes home

Leaving a deep sigh and the shards

Of his hued youthful past

On the unending long floor

 

Posted for dVerse Poetics: All Aboard

Let Go

We can’t uproot a sorrow

From that heart space

And plant happiness

In its stead

What we do is

Breathe in and breathe out

Time

In the hope of healing

Which is as absurd as sky blossoms

For I’ll never let go

Your smile

Your tears

Your voice

Your fears

They have crystallized

In that open space

Within my being

 

 

Posted for APED’s prompt Let Go

&

Shared with Poets Pantry @ Poets United

My Philosophy of Connection

I connect with a rock

Not because it knows

The meaning of hardness

And endurance

But only for the reason

That it exists

I too exist

Thus I learn

To connect with all

 

Posted for Brian’s prompt @ dVerse ~ Poets Pub

Prayer is Power

“Power may make many earthly gods,
Where gold and bribery's guilt prevails,”---From the poem Death by John Clare

source

We are their sleepy dolls

Holding our hands in fear

Set before the high pedestals

Where the earthly gods stand

Weaving meshes of mirage words

To entangle each one of us

To dance to their tune

And become parched

We whisper prayer

To wake up from this mesmerism

The touch of each of our hands

Warms us

We feel the gushing of stream

Each droplet made of dream

In our limbs

We stir with life

Holding a flame in the heart

We flare up

Their word bubbles burst

We come out of the noir-trap

 

 

Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Power @ Poets United

Last Song of the Dead

source

The guillotine voice whispers

An eye for an eye

We lost our land and eyes

Eons ago

We subsisted on black milk

Before decapitation

We cling

To the little root of a dream

Of a Child of Sight

To open all eye

Before this hour

Shall cease to be

 

 

I have used Paul Celan’s poems, Fugue of Death; Ice, Eden and O LittleRoot of a Dream as my inspiration. This is for the hapless victims who lost their lives at the hands of ISIS fanatics

 

Written for Grace’s hosting Sunday’s Mini-Challenge: Paul Celan @ RealToads

 &

 Sharing it with Poetry Pantry @ Poets United

Night

source

Din and bustle sinks

Beyond the horizon

Rest alights

In her dusky wings

My bleeding heart

Becomes the dark sky

My thoughts of you

Twinkle

All night

 

 

Posted for Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Night

Flute Player

source

The Dark One*

Played His flute

The peacock feather

Attached to His hair

Swayed by the breeze

Yamuna** shivered

In pleasure

The little butter-thief

Stole everyone’s heart

Vrindavan is still there

So is Yamuna’s flow

Where Art Thou

My flute player

Make my heart Thy Vrindavan

Come Gopala***

Live here

Play Thy flute

Forever

  

*Krishna ^[1](/ˈkrɪʃnə/; Sanskrit: कृष्ण, Kṛṣṇa in IAST, pronounced [ˈkr̩ʂɳə] (  listen)) is considered the supreme deity, worshipped across many traditions of Hinduism in a variety of different perspectives. Krishna, the Dark One is often described and portrayed as an infant eating butter, a young boy playing a flute as in the Bhagavata Purana,^[3] or as an elder giving direction and guidance as in the Bhagavad Gita.^[4] The stories of Krishna appear across a broad spectrum of Hindu philosophical and theological traditions.^[5] They portray him in various perspectives: a god-child, a prankster, a model lover, a divine hero, and the Supreme Being.^[6] The principal scriptures discussing Krishna's story are the Mahabharata, the Harivamsa, theBhagavata Purana, and the Vishnu Purana.: Wikipedia

**Yamuna is a river

***another name for Krishna

 

Posted for the prompt Flute given by Celestine @ A Prompt Each Day

Wonders

source

So many times in this life I said, wow

Because of the things I read, heard men say

All of them compelled my wonder to bow

 

Every century Earth’s rotations slow

Dinosaurs saw twenty three hours a day

So many times in this life I said wow

 

Dying stars smell like seared steak, astronauts vow

While raspberry scent comes out of Milky Way

All of them compelled my wonder to bow

 

Cosmic Soul’s sense of humor is not low

His cloud of alcohol is there to stay

So many times in this life I said wow

 

This big bubble called universe is now

Moving, keeping its countless bros at bay

All of them compelled my wonder to bow

 

Humans destroy and build, let love, hate grow

Bards cannot lie so sing them in their lay

So many times in this life I said, wow

All of them compelled my wonder to bow

 

 

Posted for Poetry Pantry @ Poets United

Only a few were born free

Since the birth of mankind

They had a sky in their heart

Where an eternity of love dwelt

Truth was their mother tongue

They were one with every object

Living, non-living

The path they had trodden

Led to the dawn of freedom,

C i v i l i z a t i o n,

They had left a trail asking

To leave everything and follow

I hear their call

I listen to the song my soul sings

The song of freedom

Am I not tethered to Desire?

Alas!

Freedom is seldom for those who are

A slave to the senses

To the mind

To the body

 

 

Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Freedom @ Poets United