An Ocean Within (A Poem For My Father, Poet Naseer Ahmed Nasir)
Natural contours of land,
Variegating with rainbows,
A continuous river
Flows into his own depths,
An ocean within.
This wordsmith, creator
Of enduring friendship
Throughout the seasons
With insects and birds,
Put on a clean shirt
before you die, some Russian said.
Nothing with drool, please,
no egg spots, no blood,
no sweat, no sperm.
You want me clean, God,
so I'll try to comply.
The hat I was married in,
will it do?
Quantum Of Space You Fill
So often today
You have entered me,
Like a cool summer breeze,
Through the Sun-burnt grooves.
Giggles of funny encounters
Between us, ages ago-
Knock often on my eardrums!
Are you so close-
Somewhere nearby, Inside
A Healthy Life Aria
keep on rhyming!
enjoy your life!
keep on moving!
sense your love!
A Bullock Cart From Malacca
Long and winding road
with patches and holes
The holes which sometimes
turned into small ponds,
after a heavy downpour
You can no longer smell the tar
on a hot burning day
The road was too old
even the town council named it
An emergency brake
and noise of motor horn.
No, no, they did not
bring me to a stop,
they did not warn.
They catapulted me!
again in world,
where cars, head-lights and races
The Sin Of Hamlet
The horns in the harbor booming, vaguely,
Fog, forgotten, yesterday, conclusion,
Nostalgic, noising dim sorrow, calling
To sleep is it? I think so, and childhood,
Not the door opened and the stair descended,
The voice answered, the choice announced, the
Trigger touched in the sharp declaration!
And when it comes, escape is small; the door
Creaks; the worms of fear spread veins; the furtive
Time over Tuesday, August almost gone,
So little left of summer to dream on.
I write a poem on the windowglass.
Quatrains waver like shadows in the grass.
One feels as if all life is lost in form.
Only sun's metaphor can keep us warm.
A lone, nostalgic whistle in the hills,
Tells me our train has come, the moment chills.
(06) The Taste Of India!
The Taste of India
To North of India, come ‘chak le’
The ubiquitous Chole bhature,
Paranthe wali gali’s Pranthe,
Ttikkis, chaats and gol gappe
Delhi’s food you wont forget pyaare
pyaz ke kachori, mirchi bada
Bajre Ki Roti, Dal- bhaati- choorma
Jodhpuri Lassi and Bikaneri Bhujiya
! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! Granny And Mulberries! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
On a visit to granny in the Doon valley
It was March and the tree full of Mulberries.
Red, purple teasing from far, fetched a cane basket
Joyfully picked one, ate some while birds created racket.
Felt nostalgic on seeing in a bucket in the market.
Lying on a bed of ice covered with a guaze net.
Hawker beckoned, explained, delicate spoil early.
Sweet and sour as girls like am told, juicy and healthy.
Vincent Van Gogh 36 - A Wave Of Passion
Back in his room at Denise's bakery,
Vincent placed his new drawings on the table.
Looking at it, he felt he had made shabby sketches.
He copied them into a new sheet of paper,
Improving and refining his drawings.
A sudden excitement gripped Vincent.
He wanted to see pictures all around him.
It was like a wave of passion,
Rushing, gushing all over his being.
He craved for art and paintings!
Leaflets From My Life - My Gorgeous Grandma
A beautiful lady,
Whose face shone like a silver moon,
So lovely, like a pink rose,
A natural, fair beauty,
Whose radiance spread around her
With the halo of a shimmering angel,
Lived a life, like a queen of the yore!
Grandma was the eldest child
Senryu ~ Nostalgia
on a lute of streams
by the concerto of dreams
in nostalgic world
a bird singing songs
sanguine melody surrounds
a soulful journey
Miraculous Birds Witnessed In Holy Sanctuary
In the wake of the corona virus pandemic that looms round the world
transporting many to doomsday's waiting room
leaving the diseased deceased's bereaved in gloom
I send my prayers to all affected and afflicted.
May God have mercy and intervene.
For a record rare episode
the caretakers of the precincts of the sacrosanct Kabah in Mecca
evacuated everybody to sterilise and sanitise the premises
as part of precautionary preventive measures as well
''''''''''' Moment’s I Couldn’t Save
The crystalline tear that slipped away
And words that didn’t help them pause.
Hands of the clock that sashay
When you want to hear the endless applause.
The stir of the lips-the whispered word
Overwhelmed with sensation previously unheard.
Brain and heart working in tandem
A vision is born glorified by anthem.
' ' ' ' ' ' Shachor Shachar(Black Dawn) - Tankas
(THE DAY BEFORE THE DAY BEFORE YESTERDAY)
Here upon the Boyne’s
moves through history
fluttering from death to death
as from flower to flower.
(dedicated to Thelma Zaracostas)
I don’t want to lose you
Even so you always
Ask me to dance
You plunge me
Into a heavy sleep
In strangest of visions
some pieces of fallen leaves of last year
turned very silky like cicada's wings
kept well in a book
some pieces of fallen leaves of this year
are picked up by someone again
put in the book
the one who loves to collect the fallen leaves
must have been caught in the nostalgic feeling
! ! Nostalgic Old Tales! ! !
When I grow on my wise perception of prime age
An old age home, I do not crave for definite
I allow you children, to take away my belongings and
to honour the love and feelings shared along
I advise you all, not to fight on a war field
to share my riches in a frame of acquisitive rant
Do not beleaguer me to share my life
Like a fragmented soul with any of you....
Share my possessions equally except my soul
when I grow old enough in your minds
The train stopped suddenly in a halt,
Later I came to know it's a mechanical fault,
I got down from the train with curiosity,
My mind was full of gaity;
The platform was empty,
Here and there full of natural beauty,
I asked a hawker what's the name of the station,
My mind was full of tension;
If the train started without me suddenly,