murari sinha

Rookie - 41 Points (01-01-1958 / vill & po- charigram dist - bankura, west bengal, india)

Grand Festival - Poem by murari sinha

the wind is prone to grand festival
if you cook your own food
by burning your hands
in the day time
at night
then you will be also eligible
for having a ticket
this train will not stop at any station
then how would you get on board
then do jump in front of the wheel
the door gets open automatically
you would also be a companion
of that joy
your name will also come up
on the list of the blood donors
with blood there will also hang
pus and spew
the colonialists
with a black face
will wind up their indigo-factories
in the fire of the intellect
the undergarment will burn
there will come running
bolder and bitumen
the road is made
your lipstick will be
sometimes deep
sometimes light
tearing open the yellow afternoon
a storm will take birth
there will be no darkness
in the amloki-grove

the ship is scheduled to start
from jetty no 3
i come to stand on
platform no 13
when i get on board the carriage
standing near
it takes me and runs to a vast
there are the lines of
sweet briar
i do not feel the pain of detaching
from the soil
when i am flying
through the smoothness of the lotus-leaf
i see a musk-deer was also running
in a parallel line
she stretches her hand
to take me
to the valley of her flesh
we are turning round and round
to enter into a volcano
and the flow of its eruption
is carrying us towards a ever-snow land

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Poem Submitted: Friday, April 30, 2010

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