A poem is a petite babe
that has all charming niches
and alluring sea like chasms...
When I read or write one myself
...
Myriad salutes to the first non-white fellow
who attained Nobel Prize for physics in 1930.
Our chests swell up to the Everest
with the pride of such Himalayan compatriots!
...
as of my career
i am not like a pillion rider
latched safe on to a carrier;
if my life is a bicycle
...
A teacher was amusingly discussing the distinction between verses in a poem and a lyric. The class not only did pay rapt attention but went in for lively interaction as well. Soumi threw a question: Why a good poem is more difficult than a lyric for a song
...
We should be and we are proud of Her.
She may be and She is proud of us!
...
Shall we take It as a gospel
or an oracle that calls out
from the lofty ivory tower?
I miss the voice or only blurred fragments
...
the file that kept the tragedy
in its stomach intact left
hand-horse ridden
from the safest haven!
...
Shall I not confer a superlative epithet upon you
who stood by me at the time of tempest
at the mid sea as a brave fellow sailor?
When you clasped my clenched fist
...
I see the world turning abruptly green.
Spark the flames from their exposed infernos.
I feel the sharp blade under their sugar-coated praise.
They rather gift me potassium cyanide.
...
like a virgin forest
with inherent exotic charm
but sick of melancholy
that calls for maiden footmarks
...