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Wednesday, 12 November 2014
What Swims
Amazing!!
They are swimming!!
One year old babes!
Swimming!
Amazing!!
Amazing is this human race!
They can kill their own kind
And burn their face!
An unpredictable kind
No one knows
What thoughts swim in minds
May be a gigantic mushroom
Snuffing out all life
Or
Birthing of a Christ!!
Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif~ Swimming @ PU
Tuesday, 11 November 2014
Dream
source
My heart beats with you
When you rise
From the waves
Of golden mustard field
And dance
Twinkle twinkle
Bollywood star
How I wonder
What you are
Million hearts
Laugh, cry and sing with you
I tell you
You are made of moonlight
You say, “Sweat”
Up above the world
So high
Your hearts shine
In the sky
Your words are ours
We gift them to our loved ones
I tell you
You are made of dream
You say, “Industry”
When the blazing sun
Is gone
When nothing
Shines upon
Our dark cottages gasp for a
little air
You gift us a sky to breathe in
I tell you
You are made of grace
You say “your love”
You do show your
Magic light
Twinkle twinkle
All the night
Bollywood stars of Hindi films
have been entertaining millions of people for one hundred years now. Films of
all genres have been made. Romantic flicks with delightful songs and dances
that make the mass forget their sorrows for the time being are all time
favorites. The film industry churns out bucks for many a mouth. I’ve included
two videos: one is on Indian heart throbs Mr. Shah Rukh Khan & Ms. Madhuri
Dikshit singing & dancing in the film “Dil
To Pagal hai (Crazy heart)” and the other is Mr. Raj Kapoor, the great
showman of Hindi cinema, singing in the film “Shree 420(Mr. 420, section 420 of
the Indian Penal Code covers offences relating to cheating and dishonestly
inducing delivery of property and leads to punishments or fine and / or jail
terms of up to 7 years). Hope you enjoy the songs and language poses no bar.
Posted for the prompt
Dream @ Poetry Jam
Saturday, 8 November 2014
To a Hate Campaigner
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I see a man walking on fire
Fire in the shape of words
Rolling down his tongue
Through the lava tube of the
frail body
There is a volcanic flow
24 x 7
In the stormy Phlegethon*
He is drowning
And burning out
Drifting away
From the magic of life
Where water is love
If I had that power
I would make a littoral cave
In his blazing heart
So that he might croon
In spring flower phrase
And change the storm into a zephyr
I want him to sing
“Grant me my day
so I might yet search myself
and weep for love of myself”
A phoenix**
never fails
To rise from its ash
*In Greek mythology it is a stream of fire flowing in
the infernal region of the underworld.
**I like to believe that a man always learns from his
mistakes because he is a man.
Posted for Grace’s
hosting Sunday’s Mini-Challenge: Salvatore Quasimodo @ Real Toads
&
Shared with Poetry Pantry @ Poets United
Thursday, 6 November 2014
Fair?
Hungry waves pounce on
Tender tasty meat of earth
Tsunami in hearts
Who will ask whom if it’s fair
The dead man sighs with blank
stare
Written for MTB d’Verse ~ Fair
source
Wednesday, 5 November 2014
Bonfires
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Each year
Our myth
Comes alive
From the pages of Purana
The demoness*
Holika steps out
Taking Prahlad
On her lap
To sit on the pyre
The flame touches the sky
Prahlad lives while Holika dies
The intent is to kill
The child devotee Prahlad
Who sees his God Vishnu
In every atom of the universe
It is a blasphemy of course
So the child is sentenced to
death
By his father, a demon
To make the job easy
Prahlad’s aunt Holika
Comes forward
No fire could burn her
But Vishnu wills otherwise
So Prahlad lives while Holika
dies
Each year
The myth
Comes alive
The old mother Earth Herself
Becomes Holika
Spreading Her firewood arms
She becomes Her own pyre
Where She sits perhaps mourns
Having lost Her magical charm
She lets Her children set fire
Her sputter bursts into a painful
flame
That reaches the infinite sky
We utterly do not know
Who will live and who will die
Each year
The myth
Comes alive
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Posted for Susan’s
Midweek Motif ~ Bonfire @ PU
*had to use this un-English(!) word for a female demon
Tuesday, 4 November 2014
She*
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She
Likes to think herself
As a pebble
It’s not out of humility
Truly
She has become one
A rock she was
Slowly very slowly
Erosion began
When those waves were flowing
Over her
She was dragged
Down and down
By the current
Into a dark hollow
Of sorrow
The bruise
Was wearing her away
But she is of rock material
Not so easy to grind her
She has changed her texture
On purpose
She is smooth to touch
Her contusion in streaks of
quartz
Glows
That amazing inner light
In multifarious hues
Make others bow in awe
A miracle
of God is
She
*She is a dear friend of mine and
my inspiration. Having lost her only child, husband and very recently her
father she is still standing and like the mighty pine deeply rooted to the
faith in God is braving the storm. We’ve been friends from school and though
she lives far away from my town we meet more than once in a year. I am in awe
of her.
Posted for Alan’s
prompt Pebbles @ Poetry Jam
Dead Man prays
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Dead man wishes
For a body
Any color would do
Black, white, yellow, brown
Any hue
Dead man yearns
For a body
Any body would do
A man’s, woman’s or a eunuch’s
A body true
Dead man dreams
Of a body
Of any kind
Deaf, mute, blind
Dead man badly needs
A home
He has consciousness to keep
He will pray for a thousand years
He has sacrificed his sleep
Posted for Grace’s
prompt @ d’Verse Poetics
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