I do not know which to prefer
A perfect round blooming sun
On the thin bough of the horizon
Or the wrapping of the silver shawl
Woven with moonbeam
One is Truth yet hard to bear
The other is only a Reflection
Of the reality
I do not know which to prefer
The gigantic and unmoved waves
Of shaggy rocks stilled by time
Or the dancing feet of the ocean
That wove wanderlust into the mind
One is pure meditation hard to be
The other is unceasing work
And no Repose
*I used the line “I do not know which to
prefer” of Wallace Stevens’ poem Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird
Posted for Grace’s Sunday’s
Mini-challenge: Wallace Stevens @ Real Toads
Those unread words
On the pages of your diary
Call me day and night
I have strength not
To touch or caress them
With all my heart
When the moon whispers
In her silver voice
Do those words sing
I wonder
You loved the gleaming disc
Glued in the sequined sky
The monsoon dance
On the tinned roof next door
Lulled you to sleep
You told me
May be the pages still hold
Those lively steps
The loud summer sun
You eschewed
Your sweetness calmed me down
Are those words made of that cool shade
Falling from the banyan trees
And wrapping up the weary souls
I wonder
Now
You are
Only words
My baby
Shall I touch you
In your word form
No, not now
Come to me
When I breathe my last
Posted for Poetry Pantry @ PoetsUnited
I scoop the sun from the dark night
And hang it over my drenched soul
Each drop of tears turns into light
As I scoop the sun from the night
Icy crust of fear loses might
The broken vessel becomes whole
As I scoop the sun from the night
And hang it over my drenched soul
Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~
Enlightenment @ Poets United
It is an impossible train
Running through an endless tunnel
Most compartments
Are nightmare made:
A few imported from Paradise
A septuagenarian nun
Is gang raped and………
Culprits roam about scot free
Girl child is unwanted
And killed before seeing
The light of the day
Cacophony of politicians
Their adulterated promises
Wedding bells in discord
Ivory towers of the rich
Beauty wafting from the fragrance
Of Buddha’s lotus, incense sticks,
Joy glittering in church stained glasses
And even in some golden hearts
Sari clad beggar mothers
Film stars in skimpy dresses
Tagore songs at traffic signals
Lofty ideals of renunciation
Still picking up a few
Sigh of the oppressed
Students after being beaten
Offering flowers
To the posse of policemen
Etc. Etc.
A never-ending train
Like the tunnel…
Posted for the prompt Impossibility @
Poetry Jam
That huge mass
of soil
Floating on the
water
All on a sudden
Began to tree
A man who was
the god
Was behind it
He was alone
No angels were
with him
And neither was
any devil
Good for him
He was the
father
And the mother
Of that barren
land
That became
An emerald
island
That now chirps
and twitters
Runs with deer
feet
Roars in a tiger
voice
Trumpets in joy
And plays with
the sun
And the moon and
the stars
*A
little more than 30 years ago, a teenager named Jadav "Molai" Payeng
began burying seeds along a barren sandbar near his birthplace in northern
India's Assam region to grow a refuge for wildlife. Not long after, he decided
to dedicate his life to this endeavor, so he moved to the site so he could work
full-time creating a lush new forest ecosystem. Incredibly, the spot today
hosts a sprawling 1,360 acres of jungle that Payeng planted — single-handedly. Source
Posted for Poetry Pantry @ Poets
United
Cherry Blossom 1
Golden drops of love
Make them glow and blush
S A K
U R A
Cherry Blossom 2
Bloom of my daydream
Bend over and hold my hands
Take me to your land
Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~
Cherry Blossom @ Poets United
The
Earth is fragrant
Spring alights on Palash* flame
Colors
in all hearts
The blue above showers light
A lone cuckoo’s tireless cry
*Palash is a beautiful flower that sets the sky ablaze around this time in
the State of West Bengal where I live
Posted for Alan’s prompt Flame @ PoetryJam
