Aniruddha Pathak Poems

Be thou the one to beat
Both victory and defeat,
Be free from shackles of the world.
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When bakers packed twelve plus two more to claim
One dozen, a sonneteer sets fourteen
Sweet lines arrayed in an eight plus six frame,
And the magic marvels and ever-green
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Familial pure, and hot nor red,
Sanguine love blood related,
Co-operative in nature,
Supportive in its stature,
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Selling one, giving free the ‘ther one
In shoe-shops has all along been done
But then a Johnny came
Limping, on one leg lame:
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Thinking for long about me
That failed to surface like cream,
In an early morning dream
I once met the real me…
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A limit there's to what robots can:
Never can they be men and women.
A robot regretted:
Their makers ne'er mated,
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Let me narrate how Death was born on Earth,
Said sage Vyasa to Yudhishthir, shattered
By Abhimanyu's death, ‘vain, vain my worth,
O if a young dream dies, lies so scattered'.
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O crested honey buzzard,
From a point of vantage
What is it that you eye?
May be, on a prey you spy—
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If peacocks and cuckoos us regale,
If parrots please our heart,
Butterflies-beasts apart,
There's a zoo in all us without fail,
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A rooster's early morn calling sense,
Is it too much of neighbourly nuisance?
But raised has cockerel's morning heist
Oh crows of loud protest
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