Why, where and how fast time fleets? A POE BY RADHAMANI SARMA

 

 

In the tunnel of summer, guardian April 23

 

Why, where and how fast time fleets? 

 

This wrinkled skin and tender skin,

Competing with time often

A recycling edge:

Strong recollection as I sit

In park’s bench and ruminate,

Just fading sun in summer this eve,

How many summers spent in work

mindless of other cadences,

whether eight or eighteen or eighty,

end of life rolling in the past,

present and future ,

fruits and grains mix,

blood and memory ,

still I am asleep , half asleep

looking through the window….

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bin and strike guardian pOEM BY RADHAMANAI SARMA

 

Bin and strike

 POEM BY RADHAMANI SARMA

Binmen’s strike for what and why,

We are yet to know,

Streets full of bin, papers, waste,

Garbage, food particles ,

Clothes  stinking and dry and wet,

Mosquitoes and fly and zoom around;

Passers by  skip  the eyesore,

We still wonder  how

 bin men tolerate the same.

Thank  God soldiers came to rescue

And clean and clear ;

 Not  a single day but whole week

Endless task .

Finally the task is over,

For people and health department.

 

 

 

 

 

It is my place, my peace and more. by RADHAMANI SARMA

 It is my place, my peace and more.

pOEM BY RADHAMANI SARMA

 

It is my place, my peace and more.

 

Whether spring or cold winter,

Birds’ nest and shepherd’s gaze,

I view with thrill,  chirping of birds,

Or trees blossoming, I adore with

Veneration, His  Creation , self-bound  joy,

Immense and unique.

 A world of books, poems, of classic

And  ancient  modern, recent,

I go back with my inspiration

To find its own place,

Alas! An awareness , life

Its own limitations ;

Advancement makes me

Grieve with recompilation .

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

POEM BY RADHAMANI SARMA

 

  POEM BY RADHAMAI SARMA

“it” with many ruminations.

 

“it” is not  a gaming alone

riding together far beyond,

reach and circles,

among children of spirits high,

 

as if riding beyond age,

behind a push unawares,

age and awareness together,

riding along, for  safe place;

 

what is that “it” each one,

ruminates, without any  viable,

cause  and solution, still gaming

along the bicycle, smile and smile;

 

a philosophy touches each one,

with conscious brutal instinct,

adulthood already touches each one,

where and why no one  defines.

 

Still with pride  and ride,

A mystery and go on  and on,

 

That is life with its own coils

and  conundrums beyond our reach.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

" it " with many ruminations

 

 

“it” with many ruminations.

 

“it” is not  a gaming alone

riding together far beyond,

reach and circles,

among children of spirits high,

 

as if riding beyond age,

behind a push unawares,

age and awareness together,

riding along, for  safe place;

 

what is that “it” each one,

ruminates, without any  viable,

cause  and solution, still gaming

along the bicycle, smile and smile;

 

a philosophy touches each one,

with conscious brutal instinct,

adulthood already touches each one,

where and why no one  defines.

 

Still with pride  and ride,

A mystery and go on  and on,

 

That is life with its own coils

and  conundrums beyond our reach.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

so much loss where? POEM BY RADHAMANI SARMA

   POEM BY RADHAMANI SARMA

 

 

So much loss … where?

 

So much loss, so much into the world

Of mystery, poetry, death and duration

Short and turning tuned like dawn and dusk,

Where man’s limitations are yet to be exposed,

Where humanity sleeps in its own way,

A corner and calm each in its tender way.

 

Monsters are everywhere lurking,

People fallen, killed, forgotten,

Death and dust bin swallowing,

Where, poetry alone with poets

Of imagination remain among us,

Unimagined , stay for ever

A recordation enduring.