Sunday 28 February 2016

Politics

Source

Lots of plots

To coil and clot

Toil hard

Not to spoil

No need to guard

The slot of lips

Lisp

Slop words

Over the tongue edge

Lop off truth

That MiGhT

Be the TrUmp card

Solicit supPort

Stop not

Till the top is reached

Politics Tick

 

Posted for Sunday Mini-Challenge: FASHION ME YOUR WORDS ~ Pierrot Granade hosted by Gillena @ Real Toads

Friday 26 February 2016

Take me to the Ocean


Courtesy: A Dash of Sunny

 

Once upon a time

I took my soul

To seaside

The lonely shore

Lay quietly

In the fading night

We sat there

Face to face

Wordless

All on a sudden

My soul stretched its hand

Plucked the pink pulsating sun

From dawn

“It’s God’s heart.

Keep it inside you” said my soul

“I will scoop a handful of stars

From the night sky

And the evening breeze too” It continued

But…for what?

“They are keepsakes. Don’t let them out.

Except if they want to come out on their own”

They were indeed

A very different sunrise

And evening breeze

And unusually twinkling stars

They live in me

Occasionally they come out

As words

 

 


Posted for Sanaa’s Picture Prompt ~ Take me to the Ocean [7] @ Prompt Nights

&
Sharing it with Poetry Pantry @ Poets United

Wednesday 24 February 2016

Martyr

source

How much greater the world would be

If there were no cause for martyrdom

Humans in power are a different race

Their insatiably flaming hunting spree

Makes truth seekers their big game

From Socrates to Jeanne d’Arc

To Bhagat Singh to Martin Luther King

The chase curiously involves all colors

 

Now the Eye is on the most coveted trophy

This blithe, buoyant, warbling Earth

All songs will stop and fire will rage

Love with glass stare will be in cage

Before the specters will hang the precious prize

There won’t ever be another “human sunrise”

 

The quote is from Alice Walker’s poem ~ Our Martyr

 


Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Martyrdom / Witness @ Poets United

Monday 22 February 2016

Bubble

photo by de jackson

 

The dancing bubbly lips

Are in constant hurry

They often forget to fill

The words with soul

The light phrases float

Enjoy their moment’s stay

Die leaving an air of sigh

Words that birth

From mighty pen

Are nuggets of gold

To live forever


This is inspired by the Tibetan proverb "Words are mere bubbles of water; deeds are drops of gold."

Posted for dVerse Quadrille 3 the word to play with is Bubble


Friday 19 February 2016

Draupadi*



Source

Whoever thought

That a fire born dusky beauty

Would have such grace, dignity, love

Encased in heart

It was natural for her to wield power

But how well she knew

When not to use it

Her pearl teeth, lightning smile,

Blue lotus fragrance

Kindled fire in many a heart

Her father wanted a son

Of sacrificial fire

To avenge his fury

Her father had not asked for her

Yet along with her brother

Draupadi stepped out of the flaming petals

Born in full bloomed youth

Panchali, daughter of the king of Panchal

She became

Her father had locked her

In a strange marriage

With five brothers

By fate, truly, by kismet

Five exiled princes they were

Five valiant youths

Five consorts!

But happiness was at the beck and call

Of her champak petal fingers

She breathed trust and harmony

She was the sky
To her beloveds

Exiled life with the sun, moon, stars and forest ended

With the kingdom, returned, layered evils

She reduced her foes to ashes

But not before she paid the price

Of being violated in court

Being disrobed while her consorts sat

Hanging their heads in shame

Having lost the power to speak up

Having seen her all five sons slain

Through the passage of

A bloody war among kith and kin

Though she was the stormy inspiration

To her husbands in the battlefields

She always kept the flame of forbearance,

Self esteem, forgiveness, compassion

Bright in the dark hours

She still lives in the breath of Nirbhaya**

In all corners of the Earth

 

 

*Draupadi is described as the Tritagonist in the epic The Mahabharata. According to the epic she is the fire born daughter of Drupada the king of Panchal and also became the common wife of the five Pandavas. Wikipedia

 

**meaning fearless girl, also referring to the paramedical student in Delhi who was gang raped and later succumbed to her injuries in spite of her brave fights.

 


Posted for Sanaa’s prompt Myth @ A Dash Of Sunny

&
Sharing it with Poetry Pantry #290 @ Poets United

Tuesday 16 February 2016

Marriage


Source

In the morning

To drink a steaming cup of love together

During the day

To be the rock in the sun and storms hand in hand

In the twilight hours

To see in each other’s eyes of the starlit dream on the night shore

 


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

32 sq. ft.


My Shrine

This space of a room

On the second floor

With a wooden door

Opening to a terrace

And with a small glass window

An entry way

To a strip of the blue sky

Waits for me

Every dawn and dusk

I know

               

My deities dwell there

They are my family members

Cutest of them is my baby Gopala*

I bathe him

Feed him

Dress him

Daily

As incense sticks spill fragrance

I take my seat on the asana**cross legged

With eyes closed

 

The shrine showers silence to the mind

Stopping slithering thoughts

To rare hood

Their fading fangs

Make room

For the Name of God

The Name***calms me down

I wait for the deity

To step on my lotus heart

This room is my refuge…….

 

 
My Gopala

 

*Gopala is the baby form of Lord Krishna. Since it’s a baby it needs to be taken care of just as a baby in the family

**asana is the mat for praying

***The Hindus practice Japa which is a spiritual discipline involving the meditative repetition of a mantra or name of a divine power. Wikipedia.

 


Posted for dVerse Poetics - Room With or Without a View

Saturday 13 February 2016

Love / 14 Feb


                                             
Courtesy: Google Images

These words come to me when I think of love

I see kaleidoscopes of teens in street

Wearing courage, smile they flutter and flit

Drunk in honey words, pairs of cooing doves

 

Devi Saraswati* and the Saint above

Indulge, smile, bless making hearts to be lit

These words come to me when I think of love

I see kaleidoscopes of teens in street

 

Many firsts happen on the Day of Love

Living in a cloud cuckoo land is sweet

For the enlightened hearts there is no pit

That key of prudence not all of them have

These words come to me when I  think of love

 

 

Form: Rondel

 

*Devi Saraswati is the goddess of learning, enlightenment and knowledge.  In West Bengal,Saraswati is worshipped on Vasant Panchami, a Hindu festival celebrated every year on the 5th day in the Hindu calendar month of Magha (about February). Hindus celebrate this festival in temples, homes and educational institutes alike. Wikipedia.

The day has become the Bengali Valentine Day. Specially the school and college goers are in ecstatic mood with no studies and all friendship(!).


 

Posted for Sanaa’s Prompt Nights ~ To Love Would Be Sublime


Tonight, I want each and every one of you to close your eyes and write the first thing that comes to mind when you think about Love……”, Sana says. I did just that.


&

Also sharing with Poetry Pantry @ Poets United

 

Friday 12 February 2016

Winter Skips Bengal


             
courtesy: google image

Mischievous is truant winter
With its feet ready to drop out
Pursing its warm lips in a pout
Runs the errant child of Nature

El Nino is its dearest peer
Holding hands they joyfully shout
Mischievous is truant winter
With its feet ready to drop out

Green parrots now are in despair
Date palm sap forgot to drip out*
We failed to meet its needs no doubt
So it flees and elsewhere loiters
Mischievous is truant winter

*In winter a slit is made into the date palm tree for the sap to drip out and collect into a pot to be made into jaggery by heating (During summer the heat at night makes the sap rancid and alcoholic).This is known as Nolen Gurh in Bengal, a winter delicacy. But this year we almost had a warm December and topsy turvy weather because of El Nino.

 

Posted for dVerse MTB; The Rondel



Nolen Gurh, courtesy   ; google image

Wednesday 10 February 2016

Whenever possible keep it simple


Copyright Kanzensakura


All we need is

A Window

To let in

A patch of sky

A big Heart

To let go

Scratches

Tagged to this life

A little Fire

To keep the wheels

Of the days

Moving

A teeny tiny

My space

To read and write

And not to forget

The Shrine

To talk to God

In the calm and stormy night

 

 

Posted for dVerse Poetics ~ As the Cookies Crumble

I used the 3rd fortune strip as my title as well


Tuesday 9 February 2016

Different Worlds

Source


The empty chair

The hardened ball point pen

The diary sighing over the white pages left

Rows of eager books on the shelves

The bone-china cup with a smiling Mickey

The brocaded salwar-suit

The Kolapuri sandal

            And

The neighborhood birds

Miss her

 

Stoic rock

Sits on the Atrayee* bank

Unmoved

 

*A river in our hometown

 

 

Posted for Poets United Midweek Motif ~ The Inanimate And The Non-Human


Our State Will Go To Poll Shortly


source

Black days to arrive soon

When will ensue

Battle of words

Wrong, right

Serrated and Blunt

By Right and Left

To lull the people

Into bizarre numbness

Dazed mass will vote

Ballot boxes

Will be in the limbo of a lull

Tough times ahead

 

 


Posted for dVerse ~ Quadrille – 2 and the chosen word is Lull

Saturday 6 February 2016

On Truth


Courtesy: Prompt Nights


The world

Will slip away

One day

Yet

We all love

To dump

This truth

Into the future bin

Taking the world

For real

We amass

Shadows

In the twilight hours

The lone hands

Grope in the bin

Gather Truth

We sigh

Die

With Truth

 

 

Posted for Sanaa’s Prompt Night: Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction, I chose to write a poem on Truth

&

Shared with Poetry Pantry @ PoetsUnited


Wednesday 3 February 2016

Identity


Bharatnatyam* Source

I really do not know

Who or what I am

All I feel is that

I am a bundle of consciousness

Entrapped in a weather beaten body

With a delusive mind

That often directs me

Into action

Making me its slave

A slave to its hunger

To its passions

To its desire

To its happiness

To its ailment

How I wish to break free

And have my own identity

What would that be like

I wonder though

May be a very abstract ‘I’

Without the attributes of a body,

A name, a gender, a religion,

A home, a language, a country

And never enthralled by this magic that world is

It would perhaps be very out of this world

Will that ‘I’ be infinite, eternal

Omniscient and omnipotent

I really do not know

All I know is that

I am a spark of consciousness

Intent to end this slavery

To find out my true identity

 

* Bharatnatyam is a form of Indian classical dance. Here the right hand of the performer is in the pose of Bhramara(Bumble-bee)-Hasta(hand). Bumble bee is regarded as auspicious. The left hand fingers are in the pose of Alapadma(Fully bloomed lotus) hasta, the rotating lotus of spiritual life. The eyes are directed towards the supreme lord. The left leg is lifted, symbolizing the swift ascent of the consciousness in one step from earth to the heaven.


Posted for Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Identity