Prasanna Mishra Poems

On the auspicious day
I also took my place
With a stoic frame of mind
Moved inch by inch
...

I am no God,
I cry when a child dies of hunger,
When a mother sells her infant to the wine merchant, I cry
I have no appetite to be God
...

Wilted leaves I knew
Do not revive
Yet I believed
When you said
...

Pour dear clouds
Pour, with great vengeance
I would welcome your drops
At all hours of the day
...

Piercing lumps of stones
Inflict bruises
His frame aches
While the carrier moves
...

Those grains of ashes
I yearn for
On the beach
The sea breeze blew
...

Her smile tripped
over the perfume bottles
the shopping mall turned
to a fragrant valley
...

Her outstretched hands
in air guide
the tiny feet
the ten month old
...

Everyday
Your golden fingers
Place two intertwined wicks
on the shining brass lamp
...

If I die at dawn
Stand at the window
And wait
For the breeze
...