Another old poem

Remembrains

Sleeping is all well and good --
I really can't complain -- but
I really wouldn't like to sleep
If I'd miss the rain.

Let the sun be out, or let
The darkness still remain;
In light or night I'll always wake
To see my precious rain.

Be you a child who's running wild
Or a man who plays with trains,
In present, past, or future tense
Please wake me when it rains.

This rain of ours will come and go
As do fun and friends -- but,
From slumber deep in memory's keep,
I'll wake you when it rains.

Gonna unload some old poems

It turns out that a lot of my poems lie unposted, so I shall start posting them one by one. Here's this, from about 1.5 years back. Time sure does pass strangely during this pandemic.

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Icarus

When I see into your soul
Hope screams like a wounded beast,
A vulture, long of carrion starved,
She throws herself into the feast.

Then, she flies -- exultant, crude --
For she sees you look at me;
But Reason sees you grin and bear
That which is not meant to be.

Hope and Reason, rival wolves,
Battle for this battered throne
That I have nursed within my breast,
Secretly, for me alone.

When the wartime siren sounds,
To each, a different song it chimes:
Hope, she hears of bliss and love,
But Reason hears the end of times.

===========================

A remote goodbye to She-Infinity, the smoothest goshdarn dogger

 A Dog-walker’s Dirge

The vet has said that you must walk:

Foot up, foot down, foot up.

Walk now or you will never learn!

Please walk, my little pup.

Walk to the mess for tasty scraps,

Walk right, and left, and right;

And walk upstairs for treats and love

At all hours of the night.

Walk on fields, and on the streets,

And jump, and play, and run!

And walk, a proud and tired mum,

To bring me to your son.

And now that end times call you home,

Walk up, and up, and up,

To the highest heaven that's just for dogs--

Walk proud, my little pup!

Show and Tell

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Sacred Games

This fabric of hope
Stretched thinly on your bones
Reminds me of a comrade, fallen,
Another of your ranks.
Merciless and wanton,
One more I abandon
On the busy seashore
Of these rocky banks.

Each one that fell away
Wanted ballads on his stone;
Each one, he took his price
When he burned away alone.
But asking not my rhymes,
What does he ask of me,
He whose spirit burns away,
Everyday, for free?
==============================

Breakfast Mathematics

After one and two, comes three.

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Ledge Drei

Algebra শিখিয়ে গেল যাবার পথে,
দিচ্ছে যারা সুদূর পাড়ি একলা রথে,
যাচ্ছে যাদের কিনতে গিয়ে একটু চেনা,
হোক বা না হোক চেনার টানে বেচা কেনা |

The Ledge is এখন সবজান্তার শান্ত হিসেব,
Markov-এতে ঠ্যাং দোলানো বাপ Chebyshev;
The Ledge is এখন ল্যাজ্যবিহীন মস্ত critic
যার চাপেতে morphic হল analytic.

Ledge-কে ফেলে যতই হারাই আঁকেবাঁকে,
Ledge যে আমার usefully সঙ্গে থাকে !
কঠিন কথা বলায় সে যে সহজ পাঠে,
হোকগে না হয় সব goal আমার ফাঁকা মাঠে |

The Ledge is এখন হরেক বছর একই ছড়া,
নতুন ভাষায় সস্তা বুলির লেখাপড়া ;
Ledge কে দূরে থেকেও ভালবাসতে পারি !
Algebra পড়েও এখন হাসতে পারি।

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Frenten

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My Kingdom For A Room

Like a poem I lost in sleep
And would dearly love to write,
A thickly blurred and flickering form,
Lit by memory fond and bright,
Rises when my waking breath
Strokes my patient bedside wall
And clings about my tired limbs
Until my nighttime deigns to fall.
Neither like unwelcome bird,
Nor like cogs in baleful hum;
Matchless in its radiant ease,
As blessed child in lay humdrum;
Consecrated but in mirth;
But in exploring, corrupt;
With what urgent, raucous joy
Does it my idyll tales irrupt!

In numberless numbered days,
Steadfast in contrarian grace,
Into my sight and taste and touch
It spirited pride anew;
So if all the world believes
That lilies bloom when memory grieves
Must I repent my stubborn spring
That sprouts but far and few?
=================================

An Old Poem to Fill the Time

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Util

I built you back from the pieces of the boys who were your friends --
Like every seaside story, at my feet is where this ends.
Put a gaping hole where our own world used to be,
Fill it up with rum and coke and call it fantasy.

It used to be, it used to be :
I was used to you, you were used to me.
Everyone's got their own world where they could use a friend.
It used to hurt and crash and burn and beat down and offend.

I broke you down and deconstructed girls who loved you more;
I cracked your shell, and here you fell, upon my rocky shore.
Brew your bubbling, caffeinated, dated heresy;
Fake your fiction, contradiction, trills of melody.

It used to be, it used to be!
I had use of you, you had use of me.
Trodden twigs and wizened wigs don't feel quite all the same.
I hope your breath falls easy, love -- it used to be my name.
===========================================================

... blaze like meteors and be gay

==============================
Inflection

Sometimes, in some crowds,
Some faces simply shine.
You know it's in your head, but still
It feels simply divine.

On your hasty, fearful way
You see a safer place.
Unto your guilt, unto your shame
It sings a saving grace.

And so you hold it hostage,
Your undeserved keepsake --
Forsaken, 'cause you know that
If you touch it, it'll break.
==============================

Have you ever watched a dog run into a volleyball court?

Logic, Automata and Games

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Grayscale Man (?)

As happy as a bee,
As busy as a tree,
I have it in me
To be fair and free;
I have it in me
To belong to one,
To belong to all,
To be strong and tall,
To be smart and small;
And they don't trust me
But you do --
So you must know
I have it in me
To build you a wall :
It'll keep you safe,
It'll keep you brave.
I'll keep you safe,
I'll keep you brave,
But if you love me
Please do love
The things I build
More selfishly --
My aqueducts;
My every shrine;
My wall to hold
All that is mine,
That keeps me safe,
That keeps me brave,
That helps me heal,
That helps me save.
I've got to love
This wall I've got :
In all the world,
It's all I've got.
But if you cannot
Love my wall
I fear I'll hate it
After all.
================================================

Poofs and Hypes

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Outside

A concrete corner's my new friend.
The corner sits at a corridor's bend --
A bit too far from the sweeping tree,
Too close to men to be truly free.
It patiently counts its youngish days
As shrub and earth go their own ways.
When rain falls, it shirks in fear;
Never before has it been near
To something that so freshly gives
To all that, like this corner, lives
Only when it's looked upon.
The rain then fills the muddy lawn;
Seeps through gravel, wets the leaf,
Gives the tired men relief;
Pools along the garden's end;
Splashes along my concrete friend
That, by now, is a steadfast bank
To muddied water in a fleeting tank
Where raindrops plop and plink and play
And make a tired student's day;
Rising to the rain and storm
So fresh and cold and yet so warm.
That corner called to colder rain,
To wetter, softer, older pain.
That corner, with its broken art
Took my thoughts, and took my heart.
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Some Colours Were Shown

Vegetarian Man

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Make and break
The promise of green.
Hurt only where
You have seen
Your likeness -- harsh,
And much unlike
Those you spare;
Them, more of hair
And less of arm;
Those to whom
You mean no harm.
Your heart fills
With great compassion!
Human women
Are out of fashion
(Unless of course
They are white)
What's left of you
You think it's right.
Hearken then
To heroes proud,
Hateful podcasts
From the cloud,
Digital diaries,
Cashless purse,
All by softness
That you curse.
All by truth
But you hate proof
Born of womb
Son of hoof.

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Concrete should have its own label by now

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

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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|
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Growing Up Sucks

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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!
=========================================

Season Five : Victual

April 2018.

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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.
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Season Four : Factual

Around April 2018.

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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.
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Season Three : Annual

Croak.

Written ~March 2018

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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.
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Season Two : Gradual

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

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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.
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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.

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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.
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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.

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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.

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*be*

Series progress.

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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.

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