Tuesday, January 31, 2017

haiku

       back home -  school boy
        removing   shoes   socks
        immense  relief

Monday, January 30, 2017

senryu

  Senryu


   1) Walking  stick  ----  the stick  I   tumble on

    2) child’s slate   full of   dribble

    3)  Morning newspaper--  evening trash
                                                                          
                                                                                                      

  4)  in  the  fall
   apple consumed
   progeny
                 
  
  
  5drumstick hanging
     lengthy  green  stick
      teacher’s  aid
              

blank  cheque
rich with  multiple zeroes
  after - 1

        door lock
clogged  with  dust



          ashes       
look  of  crave-- bones
 and   born  again



      the wind blasts
       staying   only  the  quill
          steady



in the incision box
paper  cutting  goes
 don’t   be   cruel               



Summer   evening
bird  glides down

empty  pot  stares  back


child’s  vibrant touch
 paints  glow  on  floor

 my  ankle  broke

onion    taste for   tongue                                 
but distaste for  eyes


   

bristles   of   brush
 Dyed  hair  on   her head

haiku

           India
     silk worms  sacrificial  ire.
     silk saris glow


Sunday, January 29, 2017

haiku

 in the noon
sudden  swoop  from  branch
 grains   disappear

Saturday, January 28, 2017

haiku (haiku pond )

broken  shells   sparrows   asylum      

Slow food ( Guardian)

Slow  food  ( guardian)

There  is  always   a   house, economy
agricultural rotation,     pot   of  seeds,
 also  sericulture: silk  cotton  products:
 Traditional   farming,  modernized    method,
 Grandfather  clock  and  Time   fleeting
Not minding  your  angst  or  ambition.
There is  not one  child, many  impoverished,
Many underfed  with sunken  cheeks   and
bones  exposed.  Many families
under   the   grip  of  Famine  and  disaster.
Ere , there was   a   barn, granary, the   majestic
House   feeding  many  and  a  food  corner
Always   in  store. Now   the  things are
Changing,  no  conscience ,except
The  consciousness  of  Money only.
Come, my child, grandmother’s  pudding
Is    enticing  here, always  this house.



Wednesday, January 25, 2017

 underwater                                                                                    
 my  pulse beats faster
  a  new life .




in  the  wake                                                                                   
of  revolution  resignation
stepping.



inside  the tunnel
 train  blows our ego



        
 Caterpillar  
rich haven --  drumstick tree 



  credit   debit cards
  Gods  incognito 
  ever in our bags



   

Tuesday, January 24, 2017

white  background
clean  chit  in  the offing.

Monday, January 23, 2017

haiku

idol  far beyond                  
 its native land  ruminates
a  question mark                                                               

Sunday, January 22, 2017

haiku

ants line
queue   breakers’  shame

Saturday, January 21, 2017

haiku

creeper  on
the  roof  sheltering
much

creeper
on the roof-
sheltering

Friday, January 20, 2017

haiku

 slender finger   
 Ruby’s shine  craft  and  glitter
   decor  and  boon

  poignant tale       
  fritters   in the  blinds  
      drawn



Thursday, January 19, 2017

Attraction ( Guardian)

    Attraction ( Guardian)

A bird  builds its  own  nest
gathers  its love  with  chicks
its  habit  in  all seasons,
 a  necessity for  cosy survival.
Attraction  of   high vaulted roofs
and   friendly  unforsaking   branches,
sea-saw  games  and  pecking  fruits;
twigs  are  companions, even felled
by cruel  axe, birds go  and  renew
their bond   and  love  and  affection.
 Billowing  Smoke  far-off  not a 
Permanent   threat,  they can  always
migrate , their  wings, commanders 
and  aids  of   endless   rescue.  
Deforestation  slowly  spreads
Town planning   and construction
Workers  don’t   spare us,
Indirect  way of  abolition .
Bird   wails  with  premonition:
‘we carry  our  love with  us ,
Our  chattering   and  values
In our  own  way, cawing 
and   flying in groups. Our
adaptability is our   motto’.
     

  


Tuesday, January 17, 2017

 roses   garland
    garden’s  fencing  corner.

  In  mendicant’s  bowl
   fresh    note of  charity  
   pops out.

 Kettle’s   soot
  maid’s   account book
 on the wall

  eggshell   gloats
           happy
      it is safe.



Saturday, January 14, 2017

haiku

     hugs  daisy
    a child forlorn
    in the path


Thursday, January 12, 2017

And in the city ( Guardian)

           And   in  the  city  ( Guardian)

 I have  seen  mermaids in  Literature :
And in  the     city  where  the locale
Immersed  in   dovetails  of   dark 
and  light , calm   and  crowd  in
select  places , no  mermaid like
sisters   or  dancing   beauty    now:
wind  blows as  cops   in their 
duty bound  rounds:  as  usual
ambulance   cleave  their  way
with   the  pulsating   heart beat
inside  the   hurrying,  vie
with  God’s  dictum: They 
are  doing  their  duty. Nights
smell  of tea,  smokes  and  cigar
from  afar. Silent  over  many  a  venue:
Yet   night  watchmen   and  night  shows
 tick tick   their roles.  In  some 
Silence   gnaws ;  know  not
What  for. Wind  sings  back. 





Tuesday, January 10, 2017

haiku

 wandering  in  midair
  thin  layer   of  bold   kite
  launching  thread  shivers.


Saturday, January 07, 2017

I look into the Glass.

         I look   into  the  glass      
                    
 Sitting  in  my  London  Apartment,
 not  merely  my living  room,
  a  place of my unique  identity
 and   resonance   and  tranquil, 
 I  peep  through   the  glass  doors,
  A  glimpse    leading  on  to
 profound   aura,  a discovery
 Of   self   and   surroundings.   
 Dark  wood, greenery, glory
and   ageless  Gift  of irredeemable
Faith   and  Pride.

 Birds   and    waters  and  rivers
flow unmitigated  and  in full gush,
 Still, somewhere,  unclear something
In the wooded  forest. Mystery is hanging.
Navigable  miles, unclear  thorns,          
Evil  is  not   Maya,  Not  only
Satan’s doing,  evil  is Creation’s
 augmented   necessity  with a  purport.


  




Wednesday, January 04, 2017

Short poems

                                                                                             
       Between  East  and  West             
        hot  Sun  and  cool  Moon 
        life  veers  round 
       its  own pathway
       you  like  or dislike.

      pen  a   poem
     of  prosaic  living
     a  sad  metaphor
     serendipity  is
     God’s  dictum.

      winter  unfolds
      many  a penury
      rug less   on  the
      platform  still.

    Short  story
    long  life’s
    embittered  feelings
     end   concludes  
     never ending.

      in sea’s   roar
      a  drowning   fear
      runs  me  down
        
        
  
  
  

     

Monday, January 02, 2017

A Day in December

   A  Day  in  December.

  Wind’s   whirling   whiz
 extricating  the   embedded  pulse
 of  roots  and    rigmarole.   
 Rebecca  unleashing   many a
 Mystery   and   clairvoyance.   

    Notes  flow   on  the window
    unaware  of   exorcists  outside .
    but   there  is  a  garguntine  outlet,
    the  oval    balcony  window
    in  a  combative     jittering   mood.

     A  Call   ensures   from afar,
     Unionizing   in  the  wilderness
     many  a  disoriented   and   fearless .
     Just  one  day  for  me, but  for 
     those    stubbornly  afflicted
     
     outcome  of  aeons’ targeted
     schedule  seamlessly   enacted.
     Beneath  the  stormy winds
     Once  subsided,  Angels  fan
     and  delight   to  fan  their  fans.