Saturday, April 30, 2022

This cruel deadly times - lockdown periods Radhamani sarma

 

 

Poem of the week: from a renga by Marilyn Hacker and Karthika Naïr

 This cruel deadly times …. Lockdown period

 

 

I had a dream, sleepless nights

Immersing me, wolves haunt

Nowhere to escape  now

This deadly times aghast .

 

Also ode in line a cute

Formation to half moon

Me with steps dance

 Sad for liberation; 

 

There for us come

Ghazals pouring like rain,

Inescapable now, though

A flight away from this a longing.

 

A  spacious garden,

Resounding various rhythms

Of voices in our own

Sonorous mood  dipping with sway.

 

Ghazals a delight and redeemer

A thrill shaking us away from thraldom.

 

 

 

Sad irony of war Radhamani sarma

 

Poem of the week: Welcome to Donetsk by Anastasia Taylor-Lind

 

Sad irony of war

 

War, war, war,

War time, warring nations, warring moments,

Impacts, on innocence,  cruel, bloodshed;

 

Instinct to go back to your place

Of peace,  home town that reared you

In all peace, prosperity ,sanguine;

 

These  living plants,   green pots,

Sanguine creepers, memory  records,

Only in bygone days, now dry and dead;

 

The security who watered plants

Now sees, its greenery of  dead past,

Sad irony  irresistible for mind and soul;

 

There is scary look of apartments

Once majestic and  in colorful dignity,

Now only stones   unheard and unheeded;

 

City wearing blank carpets,

Schools and black boards

Without teachers and uniforms ;

 

The three letters war/ war/ war

its own destructive toll

beyond our recognition and redemption.

 

Saturday, April 16, 2022

After Guardian ( in his diary) Radhamani sarma

 


In his diary…..


A strange  wish for him, never to be born

yet  had all the moment of wish fulfilled

all aspects, in fullest ray and  rapture.


Tea and tea party, wine and dance

merry and theatre, movies and retrospect

Occasional with moves sudden and secret.


No regrets, no   death wish, not a day

Of   gruesome thought to end his life

Ordained by God, thanks too to parents;


The philosopher in him sat by night

more for rumination, as he aged,

interpreted life’s purpose for a mode


constructive and congenial,

 hours more for charity and donation,

spent more time for lost and run.


Final stages are in his diary punctual ,

 Clarity and remorse prevailed,

all only for a day, peaceful and bright. 










Saturday, April 09, 2022

Let us sleep fraying for eternity. Radhamani sarma

 


Poem of the week: Strange Meeting by Wilfred Owen


Let us sleep fraying for eternity.


All through guns and granites,

I escaped after much battle and blood,

Mad frenzy of lying as were sleeping,

Enemies, dead soldiers, pitiless, and pitiable;


Calm and cool as were fast asleep,

I sensed hell was there, amidst hell

I am breathing to view many 

horrendous and stupid in a way;


with a tap I reached close

to him with half dead and alive,

a passive conversation 

to resuscitate him, at least a belief;


there was a time, each ran after beauty

 wild and vigor, now comes seeming rest

and peace, yet each clothed in its own coil

the pity of war in eyes wandering everywhere.



 You and I warring, still warring,

Dead in a way, dying into another coil,

In  a cold world, in a cool balm

Let us sleep praying for eternity.











Saturday, April 02, 2022

ill what time, this stays! (after Guardian)

 


Till what time, this   stays!


A moment of rumination

Of how you bear pain now,

How you bore the unbearable 

Pain in past, both physical 

And adding to agony of heart;


The  creator blessed  

The sufferer with boon

Of patience and bear

Endurance in cheerful way;

This passes his heart.



Slow, the hour comes,

readiness to meet the end,

 prepares to bid farewell

to this coil after a long 

journey in this clutter.



Then comes the dead feel

Stone sits still on this coil

Till  a cessation in all prevails.