After : Typewriter by Matthew Francis

After  :  Typewriter by Matthew Francis

Gone are those days of typewriter

old fashioned and naughty cumbersome,

but then for a beginner like me,

no  other  go and choice.

With the advancement of  technology, we  have

Computers,desktop and  laptop and palm top-

All doing the same  task in their own way,

depending upon our efficiency ,dexterity on key board .

Smith corona  and “baby-grand workings” had its

day and  slow with replacement with  key board

of grand stature with multiple scores  these days.

Yes,verily true:

“What was struck here could never be unstruck,..”

I recall how often the papers and caught in-between

And  silver lever dancing to and  fro, trying your

Patience  and  creativity aura.  Carbon  and  “ribbon smudge”

Had frequent playouts ,but I still enjoyed their

Jaunty streaks.     Now shift tabs are  questioning

Our preference wait for an answer. Google  and  you tube

And WordPad  and  notepad and  thessarus -how can

You name them ? excavations or excursions into?

Now my lap top with me in flight enjoying  all

Privileges  and prerogatives .

After Poem for Professor Frye by Nausheen Eusu

After Poem   for Professor Frye by Nausheen Eusu

   Guardian

“The pale dawn of longing descends,”

   with its relentless, unyielding stand;

    yet not completely voicing its way: 

   He hides  all this under cover of

    Longing and  sane will  forging ahead.

   Yet   the Soul refuses to see  all this,

   for  it is in bemused  state,  The soul

confronts  that   “outside the window frame is”

for the body and  soul now refuse to

get along  the journey.

Father Time, unmindful of all

these,  strides in its  carriage

giving a  nod to men  and pitfalls;

Looks as if Time  is convinced

That  Man is incorrigible and

Beyond redemption  at least now.

Now the trio of silence and dark flesh

and  jaded heart with faded love;

it is all like   a broken bone,

What is the broken bone, can one

Resuscitate life, infuse  romance?

It  darkens the flesh, “ flesh is dark”

Loss of  faith, loss of blood and

Endpoint of living. Neither longing

Nor the bone succeed but only the

Waiter Time with its measured beat.

poem after Guardian ‘ leaving home at 10 Harry Garuba

Poem after Guardian ‘ leaving home  at 10 Harry Garuba

Nothing  is more poignant and  sadder  than

Leaving  home, away home to a  far off  school,

 For betterment of future prospects, as elders  opine.

Grand mother and  grandfather amidst farewell ,

Unwilling  and tears swelling  over cheeks;

 

The  moment of departure came,

Those are the days of horse drawn vehicle,

Called  jhatka,  carrying me to the boarding school.

This is the moment of     introspection and

unWilling surrender to elders’  decision.

How can I forget my  early tender days ,

Even now tender, no one  can gainsay it,

my cricket bat, my photo album  and

 favorite books- Robinson Crusoe and Jim

carbett; collected  stamps all preserved in

good earnest in my cupboard,  how can I

forget my days of mango snatching in

summer days  running fast  to avoid the

ever watchful guard ,when his eyes  elude him.

All these I am going to miss , right away

During my  journey , I started looking  forward

My holidays. Sure to come back with  a new

Language, new approach to  life.

After Husk by Margot Armbruster

 After   Husk by Margot Armbruster

What if I wake up a  recovered patient

Ready for discharge?

In  orthodox rooted family

I have oft heard a  query by some

Affected, “ prayer  and  fasting on

Religious grounds – beyond limits-

are   they  necessary?  No  viable

answer except discipline and convention.

To propitiate   Gods  and  the base for

Ritualistic  practices.

I have witnessed even children are

Tortured in the name of fasting, and

rigorous discipline. Prayer  with

closed  eyes and  meditation, chanting

and  fasting for  hours- hunger suppressed.

Anorexia  giddiness. A  prayer offered is

Always there, a  prayer  after  prayer,

Appeal to   Gods for fulfillment of vows;

But prayer with starved stomachs and 

Delayed  eating  viscera and   weak bones

and  lose of  weight, even  loss of memory.

What  if  I wake up, a  recovered  patient,

 Ready for discharge?

What if I wake up with a  sturdy body, bright as

Sunlight and  straight?

That was a special day

Guardian poems  ( take after  Simon Armitage) The Straight and Narrow by Simon Armitage

That  was  a   special day

That  was  a  day with a  break off

From the usual  time tabled  routine;

Project  teacher’s  visual  class with

His  projector to augment  about  flora

and  fauna, arts   and  history  war  weapons-

 to tenth class  students  avid

in preparing  the final exam .Excitement

is the  order  of  class  before  the projector

was clicked  on. Soon  a  different  excitement

is in the offing for  young  and  old  all alike.

 On the  silver  screen, unexpected, though,

all   visualized human shapes and   shadows

in different  sizes . The imagination could

correlate with  cops  and  prison cells and

speeding   vehicles, crime   and a LIFE

  

 beyond   this life ; unemployment too

in our copious list. That   four    hours’

session  was  unforgettable in all of our lives.