Mandira Mitra Poems

She of the allied forces
He of the foe
She of the lion
He of the buffalo
...

Rain clouds gather in the sky
Like stalkers in silent consensus.
Grinning, communicating eye to eye
Crouching for you
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Morning, mourning dawn
Faint, feint grief
Thrones thrown my way
Offer no relief.
...

I leave you nothing, Papa,
Except a red brick mound.
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Oh why are the winds so wild today,
And the skies so sizzling blue,
Birds unusually vocal
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To warm urgent winds
Stroking insane minds
Thunder and rumbling in sky
And ocean, come rain.
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Nothing to say anymore
No emotions, complaints,
Unreasons that shout,
Without a word further
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Worlds hum slowly in my sleep
I drown in dreams; their shadows deep
Like gypsy women's ancient art
Lull an ischemic heart.
...

Sunday morning. I dust my alphabets to a shine
To build you a dainty rhyme.But you wake up
Red-eyed from your nightmare
Like the Loch-ness monster.
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You wanted to travel the world, so I wrote you a song.
Now you want to be a singer. Maybe I shall hunt a forest boar
And adorn your ego wall with its hooves.
Day before yesterday you were talking to
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