My feet hurriedly step forth in the notes of spring,
When pressed and starched my sari hums the bell’s tring,
Spring in Delhi puts the spirit of youth in every thing,
The boys faces glance and gleam as poetry and prose fill reams.
...
All of nine decades writ large in her wrinkles
Her mind mirrors the past unwilling to dwell
In the geography of the present
The Hazratbal haze of prayer has
...
The drum beats disappeared.
Into the damp twilight.
Scenes of idols swaying.
To celestial music rolling.
...
Lights illumine
Walls and balconies
Flames mirroring
The delights of Diwali
...
Within war's wounds
Strapped to his uniform
Is mom's cream n crimson
Cotton handloom sari
...
Between dark and fair skins
Between haves and have nots
Between beauty of languages
Between life and its meanings
...
Since we're alone we can talk
Though you lie between sheets and see
More than us mortals
Life is one black sun with broken rays
...
SONG OF THE WIDOW
the blowing conch shells are gone
the sound of chants for Maa Durga
...
They came in throngs for what was left
A choir of ashes and songs and shells
Dripping sweat.Holy in strength
...
They came in throngs for what was left
A choir of ashes and songs and shells
Dripping sweat.Holy in strength
...
Lockdown is Still Life
A chronicle of dependence
Strong in ambiguity
Floating aesthetically
...
The sparrows in my bamboo bush know nothing
As dawn breaks they only feel the light growing
While they feed on rice grains, they know not
...
English teacher/art critic/curator)
Sari Clad Teacher In Spring
My feet hurriedly step forth in the notes of spring,
When pressed and starched my sari hums the bell’s tring,
Spring in Delhi puts the spirit of youth in every thing,
The boys faces glance and gleam as poetry and prose fill reams.
Through the open window I hear the squirrel scream
The air with fragrance of flowers in every hue
Could make me any Shakespeare's story tell,
Julius Caesar, Antony or Othello take birth aboard the green hill
The Indianesque insignia makes the lotus white,
I scorch the scarlet pigment in the rose;
Romance smells sweet but is deception’s disdain
Drawn through anguish, patterned in pain.
Memories pressed between pages of the winter chill, swim in vain,
The black sun looms with one long shade sprayed in rape’s vein.
Drowning Durgas - How great! When the devi herself describes her plight...amidst filth and debris after immersion...Nicely penned....shows how cruel man can be at times....enjoyed throughout... Young poet.
Drowning Durgas - How great! When the devi herself describes her plight...amidst filth...debris...Situational irony...How cruel man can be at times! Nicely penned...Enjoyed throughout... Young Poet...
a very good, interesting poetry. All the 9 poems I've read are nicely penned and enriched with a great imagery and musicality. I've enjoyed reading all of them. Thank you, Uma.. So here is a ''LIKE'' :)