Tuesday, November 27, 2018

Concrete should have its own label by now

This is a sequel to an older semi-serious bilingual attempt about the same beloved Ledge.

=======================================
Ledge দুই

Ledge-কে আমি সেদিন পেলাম আবার একা,
অনেকদিনের পুরানো-কে আবার দেখা|
উড়ল যারা আমার সাথে হেসেছিল​,
উড়ল যারা নতুন ভালবেসেছিল​|

অন্যদিকে উঁকি মেরেও দেখেছিলাম --
বুক ভর্তি কান্না নিয়ে বসেওছিলাম​|
কিন্তু তাকে Ledge বলে যেই ডাকতে গেছি,
উড়িয়ে দেওয়া ভালবাসা কুড়িয়ে পেলাম​ :

The Ledge is আবার ঘুমিয়ে প​ড়া ছোট্ট খুকি,
The Ledge is আবার রঙ-চ​ড়ানো উঁকিঝুকি,
The Ledge is আবার ক্ষুধার্তকে ভুলিয়ে রাখা,
The Ledge is আবার মন​-হেঁয়ালি মিষ্টি-মাখা;

The Ledge is আবার cloud-এ ভাসা maturity --
হারিয়ে ফেলেও রেখে দেওয়ার disparity;
The Ledge is আবার অমানুষে মানুষ করা,
জন্তুমানব খুঁজে পেতে রাতের ছড়া|

Ledge-কে আমি বিলিয়ে দিলাম তাদের হাতে,
ঘুমপাড়ানি গান জরুরি যাদের রাতে|
এই পুরানো​ Ledge আর আমার না-ই বা থাকে!
আমার দেওয়া নামেই তাকে সবাই ডাকে|
=======================================

Friday, September 21, 2018

Growing Up Sucks

=========================================
Childhood Hence

Lights and sounds, they're wearing thin --
Lowly dim, or lonely din.
Things I knew go unrevised,
All my rules now supervised,
The steps are old, the grass is new,
There's ghosts and trees, but no Scooby-Doo.

Limitless could still be love!
Silent lies from stars above
End the day that had begun
In sunrise now gone pale and wan.
The wilderness, not of my choice;
Nor tales I tell with stifled voice,
Nor new fingers on my head,
Nor too few deities for my bed;

Not my concrete, not my pets
Nor my speculations, bets,
Gambles, scrambles, rhyming words,
Nightly fare, nor nightly birds,
Nor new children, iron willed,
Nor new livestock, hefty billed.

Diverging rays, convergent shine,
Indulgence theirs, no longer mine --
Useful new in armour old
Knows too well how drinks get cold.
All of me now deathly named,
I step into a life untamed;
No longer mine, the frontier edge.
Know your future, guarded ledge!
=========================================

Monday, September 3, 2018

Season Five : Victual

April 2018.

===================================
Victual

You have your birdsong, and I
Have the yellow flowers
Against the free blue sky.
You've got them concrete towers, though
And weird concert voices.
I wish when Armageddon came
We'd made different choices.

Sunlight's washing my grey world,
Colours dance beneath.
Curled up in your blurry world
At long last, you breathe.
===================================

Wednesday, August 29, 2018

Season Four : Factual

Around April 2018.

====================================
Factual

The sky is awfully blue --
I could've known
There's something wrong with you.
Not a cloud in sight.
I just might
Never come back home.
When they pictured hell,
They imagined
How we slowly fell;
But in tales of heaven,
Then what even
Did they mean?

Nature, nature, lovely creature,
Fell beasts in your arms;
Careful, careful, you're too beautiful --
All the world is yours!
I would say a million prayers
To your selfish god,
Fly away into the sun
If the wings were yours.
So show me the right of way
You alone can see;
Light up the red carpet
Of your festivity;
Layer up all your dreams
Then slow reveal, striptease.
You alone can smell
Your lonely, lonely sea.
====================================

Sunday, August 26, 2018

Season Three : Annual

Croak.

Written ~March 2018

====================================
Annual

I shooed and screamed at clouds; I hoped
They were not here to stay --
I took great pain to make it rain
When they'd gone away.

But my earth, it scorched and burned,
The dust engulfed it all;
Sandstorms swept up all around me,
Making me feel small.

And when the scornful cloud returned, oh
How it loved to gloat.
The conquered dust became a bog,
With wretched me afloat.
====================================

Wednesday, August 22, 2018

Season Two : Gradual

The second poem in that series from last year. This one was written around Sept-Oct 2017.

===========================================
Gradual

The day my body wastes away
And no one speaks for me,
Tell them of the good old days
And the good you saw in me.

Tell them of the soul untouched
That sold itself to pain;
Tell them of the wretched dance
In stinging seaside rain;

Tell them of the hungry tales
By naked fireside told;
And, bit by bit, the smokescreen built
You and me to hold.

Before they cut me open,
Immortal hope to serve,
Take a while from jewelled life
And futures you deserve

To tell them all our secrets --
Each one but how you knew
That as Lucifer loves a sin
So did I love you.
===========================================

Monday, August 20, 2018

Season One : Vertical

This is the series I wrote over the past year that I debated whether or not to post. I have finally decided to put it out there -- despite this not being my better work, I have tried my hand at a new type of content and would like to receive feedback.

This particular poem was written around March-April 2017.

========================================
Vertical

The door was open through the night,
I slept on a side of the bed;
Yet he did not think to rest
Beside my sleepy head.

In the deepest slumber, I
Spread out a waiting arm;
But, all night, I did not feel
His breathing, soft and warm.

My throat was sore, my eyes were red
From battles yet to fight.
Salvation slept but floors below
Through my darkest night.

Losing myself like I'm wont,
I could have used a hug
But he was happy with his book
And magic coffee mug.

He asked if I would be upset
If he went out with friends!
He does not know I miss him more
When the party ends.
========================================

Tuesday, August 14, 2018

Kanyakumari Revisited

While I muster the courage to post that series from the past year, here is a standalone(?) poem of the usual odd-semester-at-CMI kind.

======================================
Transience 

Etch the ballpoint memory
Of a distant past that isn't me
Alongside the ramblings of
Another maddened poet.
The reptiles on the wall
Moult when curtains fall;
"Seasons will repeat", wisely,
Simplicity still wrote.

My pen is like a broken wing --
So heavy in pain, I cannot sing!
The open sky will draw your stories,
Eight of them in all;
The creatures on the edifice
Die when kingdoms fall.
======================================

Friday, June 15, 2018

*be*

Series progress.

==================================
Noida Man

Nearby Delhi :
So much corruption,
So much collusion.
Noida Man
Takes electric vehicle --
Less pollution.
Madam is young,
Modern and all,
Clothes too small.
In electric vehicle
Noida Man
Sneaks a look
Down Madam's chest;
Madam finds
A similar view --
With foliage, too.
Noida Man
Has work to do,
No time to think
Of trying times :
Girls trying
To be like boys,
Sitting up front
In electric vehicle
In short pants.
Noida Man
Pays his ten,
Drinks his tea
With his men,
Men who think
They had a chance,
Men who see
What time has come :
Five hundred note
With a young madam!
Madam and Man --
Pained by change.
Madam and Man,
Changed by pain,
Never see
Each other again;
Madam walks
Wherever she can.
On modern phone,
Noida Man
Checks the time;
On modern phone,
Manly Madam
Tries to rhyme.
==================================

Sunday, October 1, 2017

From the dumpbox

===================================
Toyland

Matchbox cars on ribbon road,
Concrete, and your hand to hold:
Specks of human, red and gold,
Light our midnight way
Of Northwest winds that think aloud
Of lonely star and monsoon cloud.
I spin a yarn, for you and me,
Of a passing stranger's day.
===================================

I had absolutely nothing even barely publishable left. This is my last stand. Send help.
This poem was written one of the last times I actually enjoyed eating Domino's.
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...