Tuesday, January 3, 2023

Hearty Flights over Our Heads

O birds! Thine world is fantastic,

Feathered tails, plumes ornamental,

Thine forelimbs modified as feathers,

Bones hollow, jaws elongated to bills,

Keel shaped breast bones make fliers strong,

Thou colonize different habitats:

Terrestrial, freshwater, marine.

Humanity’s flying colours thou are,

Be it the cooing call from the dove,

Plumage soft, small headed female;

The lark singing through its bill slender,

Making flying clarinet; singing,

Or the strong magpie fighting crows,

Female strong; the exotica winning.

Be it the swift sparrow, high speeded,

Scimitar shaped wings and thrusts;

Human’s urge to fly high and high,

Robs eggs when intelligent jackdaw,

Shows it our nasty snatching moods,

Or heron seizing fish from the water’s edge,

With body slim and legs longish,

Proves it our artificiality for the survival.

Wood pecker prising off bark, probing crevices,

Shows the labour sense trunked around,

Or the wren, small and swift,

Feeding on small insect flocks beneath bushes,

Realises it millions bushing for bread,

Kookaburra pouncing upon snakes, lizards,

Or birds of prey; hunters nocturnal,

Their strong hooked bills, clawed talons,

Airs high speed dives on targets.

Perform acrobatic display for females,

Feathers thine drop over our ladies’ hats,

And of course game birds for hunting;

Plumes, pillow and duvet stuffings.

Birds! What if we emerge the winners?

Innocence thine is still greater;

Damage crops or foul buildings,

Thou air humanity’s flying colours,

Birds! Thine world is fantastic.

Monday, December 12, 2022

Pa’s Flower Bed

 

Some flowers have grown,

Watch as my father’s eyes

Like fairies from the skies,

They glimpse his perfection; full blown,

 

Originated like earth; few seeds thrown,

Life hovers there, now, as butterflies:

Ecstasies on petals and good byes,

And his Godly muse over the beauty flown.

 

Father theirs, caresses bud each,

Expecting their arrival time, worried

Pours he dewy drops of smallest size,

And gentlest they sway with daughterly reach.

He ponders like the sun; they get energised,

Together even in dreamy nights, and then arise!

Friday, December 9, 2022

Bridal Gifts from the Maiden

 

Lo earthlings, heaven was never so near!

Indra’s thunderbolt enlighten and clouds cheer,

Child bride of yore;

Young lass returns for the marital bliss;

Aha! The rain returns to kiss

Forlorn, hot sighing partner ruing summer long,

Who out of excited warmth singths a song;–

First monsoon rain comes jangling,

Musical arrival upon the leaves swaying;

Small dances, embracing in dust still praying,–

‘Come! Come! Can’t bear more frying’.

 

Universal harmony pours upon mortals,

Many buds are here, awaiting to open petals:

See! Country maiden gone all wet,

Her heart thunder under her bosom to let

Loose, attire’s control sticking around,

Also, the social constraints squeeze and bound,

Thank thee O rain! She overcomes the latter,

Gyrates to see her contours natural; no bloater,

While, drops almost mate around her full fishy lips,

So many, of course, mischievously pat upon shaking hips.

 

O lone outsider with thy cattle herd,

Thank thy local deity for being heard,

Thou look so rainy in those shaggy clothes;

Suck up so much water to desert’s loathes,

Look at the reach of falling rain,

Even the hardest horns feel some lovely pain!

And they shut mouthed, stoically muse over the rare

Rain, which shrinks from the native land, as if not dare,

Then a sad reflection by closing heavy eyelids:

‘Gets my village same big drops, or not?’

 

 Birds still flutter around to chill,

Rain is hurtling down for life; not to kill,

Cares not the smallest world disaster floods,

Sacrifices it for cause greater, and no bloods,

Children run naked in the streets,

So many playmates fall with greets,

The rain is falling to rejuvenate again

Some sparkling in oldest eye for another begin,

Yes! First monsoonal harp is at our doorsteps,

Visible become as our footsteps.

Wednesday, December 7, 2022

Rainbowed Forehead

 

Optical phenomena in the sky,

The rainbow with spectrum colours,

I have my own on my forehead,

If they say space is infinite,

Contemplation ours can realise which,

Then my forehead is the same;

Like a sky after heavy shower,

Rain of struggle with reality,

And glimpses it when,

Just like a sun,

The arc of light shines,

Refraction of divine light on ideas mine,

The rain of ideas,

Just like falling water drops

Come in contact with the reality,

Deflect then to the unknown,

Never, never to return again.

Leave they coloured reality,

Colours seven showing the real,

Left I am with a rainbow

Arching across forehead mine,

Traces coloured of my encounter

With reality crowning forehead,

Worry I not failure with reality,

For coloured sparks I have got,

And a rainbow on my forehead!

Monday, December 5, 2022

My Fair Lady

 

Whenever stars start to fade,

And light seemst too far:

Too far to even shade

The dreams; as dark launches war.

 

Lightless, me comest across a cry:

‘For dimming light’s sake,

Please, go along and try

With smallest rays eyes make’.

 

Eyes, of course, where smallest

Sun shine in the middle,

Whom salty sea swallows:

Reflective more; solve riddle.

 

What if success embraces not,

And failure kisses many times,

Still, that smallest dot

Makest dark lady’s passioned rhymes.

 

O my sensuous dark lady,

Sip thou the nectar of toil:

Thy consenting embrace always ready,

Ye succeed to love, help me fail.

 

Ye crazy infatuated lover,

Thank smallest twinkle in my eye,

Urges which to try forever,

Makest thee my sweet ally.

 

‘Success’, the other lady thou abhor,

Keep thy love thus secure day and night,

And thy lover knocking at her door,

While, thy embrace squeeze with more might.

 

O my fair lady, worry not,

She now fades away quickly more,

While, thou makest best with nuptial knot,

Urges she in a hasty cry, ‘Again try, once more’.

Saturday, December 3, 2022

O My Partner, thou art Beautiful than a Flower

 

April hast it, thus love springths;

For, whatever nature has to offer,–

Perfume! Flower crushed to suffer,

Vow! beauty’s oozes man bringths.

 

Tryst further; driplets for love draught,

Sprinkles the petals sacrificed on body fairer,

Which lusty lips lick from the bearer,

Ha! Tasty tongue now sought

The beauty which eyes once praised.

And the love processor from nature

Eyes many more bounties on offer:

New names for beauties bruised,–

Transformations new for the love cure:

More love licks from the graved door.

Thursday, December 1, 2022

When I Love Thee Most

 

Beloved, when thou shrink in my arms,

And put thy lips on my thumping heart,

I feel sucked to celestial charms,

While thy long hair, like jasmine flirt.

 

Aha that twist of thy slender body!

Creeps which immeasurable lengths,

Infinite I feel, O my great lady,

Time’s measure lost; a second worth months!

 

Those wide voluptuous eyes closing

And parting somewhat betwix eyelids,

For other world they are opening;

In that fainting look heaven glides.

 

Still, I love thee not for such forgetfulness,

I do, of course, when remember thy bodylessness.