Sunday, December 31, 2017

HAIKU

       summer grass mowed 
         earthly smell I shall      
            never forget



Outside the  rut  
you  walk through many on  the platform
Sidelining sleepers, hawkers  and pavement
Dwellers sleeping and  eking out their precarious
Living; a day gone is a   day risked and   wisked
Away  by  Time and  its subtle doings ;
Here is one  among many  previous night itself
Flanked by  bed-sheet all torn and through
Gaps  a possibility of  widening the decored
Looks  further and   further.
. All for  ration  rice  and oil and  kerosene  to
make  the poor hearth warm  and   burning; 
Stale commodities,yet luxury  for them   now  
Their tent now and    living mode Who cares
Whether  he belongs to the  suburban or same
Vicinity or from inside, All  the   same, belly
Pinches and  one  has to go  on, a  mechanical

Local newspaper  reporter clicks , All over, 

Saturday, December 23, 2017

Tanka and haiku

you illumining
at one click or switch booming
sudden power off
immerse  all in  pale of dark
belittled by a candle

for him
bedridden for long  
all around hollow

homeless
every corner in platform

  his privilege

Friday, December 22, 2017

Cool web ( after Guardian)

Cool  web ( after guardian)
So supple  and  sweet are  children;
They mumble  in their spongy  web
Of their velvety mouth water dripping
at times. Fragrant Rose  and  twitter
and  Dawn with chirp of birds go well
in their ebullient streak of brush stroke.
Yes! Children can not spell the crude
Warring world and ammunitions of war
thundering for miles and miles ahead.
Cannot Spell the dry  arid cast around us.

We have the gift of speech and articulation
to hurt and  hurl words of abomination,
to twist  and  roll to stiffen and snub
not merely to chill a day but to chill
others with daggers of words and speech
taking  nowhere.Always  in a cool web of
language we are balanced with safe entourage.

But we if lose our grip and language,
If we surpass our boundary to enter into  
Another arena of limitless cacophony
We encounter  a  trap before death

traps us into  negation  and null. 

Saturday, December 16, 2017

workplace haiku

closing  the  loan file
please come  day after  morrow
more auspicious





 why this post applied
 i  like   teaching  for I can
teach and  preach



 I said we  check in 
12 0 clock’ he gave call
next noon



collective praise
collective  stab lurks  somewhere
 innocent victim

Friday, December 15, 2017

Microbial wonders

Microbial wonders  ( After Guardian's  Microbial Museum)

It sails from sky, the ship   with  showers
coming down, blown by ripples,and winds
and  sea breeze.  More  than "one  hundred  and
fifty thousand years of snowfall"running  into
bubbles and frothy foams into streams and rivers
and  joining oceans atlast. Sometimes contaminations
and careful rain harvesting  storage too.   The majestic
ship  gets crumbled to  and  "prehistoric pestilience thaws",
A way of mixing ancient with modern genes, of course
so many species breed  and spread living and  luring
in water.  The  powerful water is all pervasive without
which  life is dry   and dry spell . The  future  is  thawed no doubt.





Sunday, December 10, 2017

Fruit gathering after ( Guardian)

Fruit gathering.
If cooking is her  veritable  taste
to appease the taste buds  of
her mouth, her  gardening in her
pillared house  is her forte and  a  must
revitalizing her lost energy and propelling
in search of flow. Often she would speak
to her plants and  trees. Mangoes  and guavas
copious and  covering the entire stretch;
at times ,from the  other door, urchins would
stone and enjoy the  yield for the branches  
  are  munificently bent towards their  roofs.
Greater pleasure is her distribution to her
Neighbors  and  friends and  relatives.
 Her recipe of mango pickle still relives
In my mouth . After her departure, woe
to the  brokers and  buyers that bought it
and crumbled into pieces; for storied apartment
is in the offing for  their dreams.
 Even the debris abounds the sweet taste
and  fragrance of the  fruits. Now lost from

my taste but lingering in my memory.

Wednesday, November 29, 2017

Time’s move
in the whiff of Times’ jaunty move
you cannot be free  in its clueless
celluloid form and formation of groove
yet passing on with its own pass.

Every now and then you  see the  watch
the time on   clock  tick tocks  to  watch  
all to sail  this mundane world without hitch
if  any, swallow   demure  and    avoid  glitch.

1     1)    Tanka
  empty tracks
 long   waiting  for  a   signal
 silence weaves around
 as of  times testing   me  now
 hard  and  those days of journey

Tanka 2)

   my impetus 
 slowly  nurturing on  muse
 rhythm of writing    flows
 for years  these twin  together
 two cheers on these  two  ever



Friday, November 24, 2017

Yogic splendour ( after Guardian)

Yogic  splendour (After guardian)

Rigour for body and dicipline
for mind entwined,you enrobe
for hours in strict yogic posture,
calm and cool,your eyes closed,
at times relaxed too both body
and mind yet towards a farfetched
goal of ceaseless aesthetic peace
and splendour of great  move.

This ageless practice of yogic
vision  and splendour perpetuated
from times before our ken by sages
and seers with  voices  and  visions
always give  us   a therapy in still wisdom;
losses   and gains are always with us
steer  ahead with  the move of day.
what are different poses,yet
all roads  lead to Rome. The gristle
and bone grip us with a  philosophy
while yogic posture  and  while we sit
and medidate. Away from the trappings
of clutter  and clamour !


Saturday, November 18, 2017

Hairloss( after guardian)

Hairless ( after guardian)

Slow hairl loss with the  passage
of time or age,or malnutrition
or due to chemical solution of
shampoo; one goes deeper into 
many of the viable reasons of
this loss; for some   a sense of
belittling  their dignified look.
 can one fight  with pigments
of skin  and entourage?
 for some it is  a  duty by
way of tonsure  to offer to God;
yet thinking process or  body
movement are the same. clean
or clear  or shallow all stem
out of this shiny,tender rubric
of top called head .Skull beneath
this layer with so much of intricate
dealings , wiry aesthetics ruling
the life of the owner. 

Friday, November 17, 2017

Tanka on tv

TV in the hall
children doing maths homework   
one eye on the screen
in between mother’s scolding
tv goes mechanical





Saturday, November 11, 2017

we Did Believe in that " we "

 We   DID    Believe  in that  “ we”

We  grew up together  with
nourished goals ;like crows
nestling in the  self built coves
of  straw  and  feather yet with
selfsame satisfaction. One  small
hitch drove you out of the house.
Alone in that  dream castle of yours
Wandering ever your path way.
We were  the enjoined strength  
Of ten stones rocky, but  when
You chose to drift apart, you were
Like  spilt and  smashed  pieces .

How often  I would give you
Wake up call to go church and
You would not budge from the bed.
 Quiet many  a time, I would sprinkle
Water on your face to  make you
 Swift and  speed up you from
Your  seasoned lethargy. Indoors
You would converse with doors,
Birds  and  voices  of your belief
Stemmed  from within as you
Would  convince. Always   a  rhythm
Of yours swelling  indoor giving us --


A tale of your choice and weave.
Now the same birds visit but
Missing you. All I want from you
Is come back soon, I  pray for you .


Friday, November 03, 2017

After bee glue( guardian)

After  bee  glue ( guardian)

This morn, inadvertently I
dropped a flower vase, 
in which my artistic tapestry
and painted lineage in colorful
frilled frocks came to nothing:
this porcelain emblem of long,
cherished of my memory and  craft.
Now I know how much my love
Of craft  and  love for art
Crumbled to nothing now.
Hours and days spent in
Precious time,  tap before me.
Yes in disintegration,
Life is more significant
Understood better than earlier.
In money dissipated, you
Realize the value of money
Ugliness invasive till now
Swallowing you into ashes.
Ramblings into excursions
of devious mileage .Teaches
a lot for humans and in humans.
Looking for love unassimilated
Yes that is the move now .


Friday, October 27, 2017

After eternity ( Guardian)

After  eternity ( Guardian)

You are something that sacred
Nameless soul, ancient:  stay
Alive even  in  annihilation,
Sustaining   spirit  hoisting
Seamless victorious banner.
In deluge and aridity, like
Unseen power  banishing
Macabre  coil of  oppression.

You are the ancient   kerb
guiding  through  valleys
 sacred  rivers  and  high mounds,
even in  my  nocturnal journey
of  dreams  and  capturing  moods
of  empires, you stay on.

You are that something supreme
Stay me through broken stores;
like  hermitage let me wander
in  ascetic purity and  detachment.
Why this life of death in living:
You tap our defunct flat root
enter into synergy of abiding source.

You are no  longer a  shadow,
a living present  make us
adore roots of ancient past
flowing through all – liberation
of flame burning though and  through.

  



Saturday, October 21, 2017

After the Revolution

After  the revolution

 Ay, But Can Ye? by Vladimir Mayakovsky


Revolution is  ever there in  humanity’s

warring  forum,  not accepting  defeat,

fighting tooth  and nail, unto the last breath,

nations   and  histories   repeat  the motto

we  will shed the last   drop  of  blood.

 Else how  history is  made, remaking 

the  old into new   warf  and 

 weft of  the  parole . Question of

‘why   War’ is  negated.

Let  me paint  the   Olive on  a 

Glass  jar and  extend  by  a   seamless

brush  of  unique  colors ; hold the

candle of  peace and  peace only

sailing the  boat of   eternity  into

 the other world of  serenity.

No more cries of  a stale world.




Friday, October 13, 2017

BHS


 lizard and fly
 there  lies  a  quiet
 momentum




these bunch tender
deck man and God
alike



in the last  rites
the first fresh smell of
 roses


WHY THIS WAR CRY?


 why this   war cry?



From this everyman's land
to woeful no man's land,
rest less  march and round;
secret parleys  and trenches
leaning on parapet walls,
warfront again  and again,
general,captain and  sergeant
and soldier all with a  common
motif to fight the enemy, to
save the country,to redeem  the
honor and pride of nation.

Weather heading toward the
first -line  trench or third line march
 before  questining how far is the enemy,
why not enter into a pact of  quell
the hatred  and quell the venem  in gun,
abhor gun shots, abandon  hot pellets,
surrender to a  common will, path
of   PEACE MARCH FOR EVER.




Tuesday, October 10, 2017

wh

two parrots in cage
always  a  new language
third is on move

Friday, October 06, 2017

Stepping into transition


    Stepping  Into  Transition

    A  sudden   metallic  throb
   strikes  me  threadbare-
    drawing  me  -- jittery
   into  a  progrssive  cavalcade
   like myrobalan tapping
   the  lost  energy  breathing
   into  a  new   Haven .
 Rain battered  city sreets,
unmappable beyond our  ken;
 there   still, more  than the urchins,
 the  tattered  clothes  rowing  the
paper boats immersing in water,
their  sad predicament, their masters.
Their only  reprieve  is watery pastime .
What transition for  these  flooding
into  rims  and    beyond  boundary line?
what  redemption for  those roofless
lifeless,yet hanging  on their  coired  breath?


  

I keep my eyes on the notes( after guardian)..


I keep my eyes on the notes ( after  uardian I Keep My Eyes on the Ground by Caroline Bird)



No  turning  sideways  like a crow
On  the  plant  sea-saw
No  penumbra  neither shadow
backing  you, your earnest  oeuvre,
but  your  imminent flow like
dictated by your ever vigilant
inspirational  Muse looming .  
no  plagiarism  or  copying  from
tools. Honesty is the pivot, edit your
mind of  the  crabs  and  crumbs
blocking  your inherent verdant  growth.
ever dissolve the base  sediments of
unwanted  unruly  lexicon. Now my
text is ready for  avid circulation.  




















Saturday, September 30, 2017

The silent Heavens ( After Guardian)

The  silent  Heavens ( After Guardian)

I am one  among  the motley crowd
yet with a  lonely attire of  move ahead ;
i wander about, my self fixed with 
pixel image   glued   and expanded  ever.
The  sun  and stars  are fixed,  thier own,
but man's entity is ever changing
in search of a  different gambling ;
me pondering  about  this  threadbare;
but  me in this Earth, hear the echoes
of  uhneard cries ,wouned blights of soul;
Earth still bears them all ,still waiting  to
solve  and resolve  at  her will.
where  is  the  voice of console,
where  is  the dictum of  surrender?
where  are  the faces   and   ears
that  are tuned to  misery  and  mass burial?
I am  still a  wanderer keeping   pace
with  the  jostling  crowd,  unanswered .

Thursday, September 28, 2017

WH


    unopened lunch  box
    office window takes a  tour
     ration  shop  queue

  


Tuesday, September 26, 2017

on red


  Pal  of   skin
   You   are  color-less  stone  
   on  floor



 red  nail polish
mockery  on  surface of
 the  skin

Thursday, September 21, 2017

WH


 sick day
 preparing  CV for
 morrow’s interview

Power of guns ( guardian)


                       Power of  guns (  guardian)



Erase  the  word  of  gun in  life  and  dictionary
 Deter  the  language of hatred and calumny in use
in our day to day lives  and  living  concept;  is it
viable ? Why should it be on  stage or   street,
for  misuse  or  out of rage ? At one short,  trigger
it goes off  to drink blood or take life; worse are
sten guns. That  day when pistol  and  sword  are
 withdrawn, that moment when these are abolished
 for the  betterment of society and human life, that
moment   a  new  history is born, mankind relives
its  norms and  proceeds in search of fortification.
by pass surgery on one hand,  pistol shot body on
The  ambulance,  making a  mockery of HIS  Creation.
Gunman  and   gun   should go ; ere  we  must  enter
Into   a pact of   nonviolence  and  eradicate   the  
Devil of  sheer  hatred  and selfishness.
What  for  laws ? what do laws do when they don’t
 Pass an ordinance to quell these vicious   moves?



 




Monday, September 18, 2017

on lady bird


tiny black and  red
 a tattoo colorful   on  
my wrist


Saturday, September 16, 2017

A take after this: (After Guardian)


  A  take  after this:   After  Guardian



  After all the endearing seasons, for they  
  are  inevitable  part  of  this  sacred  Creation,
  rivulets  and  brooks  and  falls  ever flow
  as  I  sing  and compose in even rhymes
  and  notes mellifluous  and extempore;
  if tall trees befriend birds  or birds befriend those
  in woods  monopolize  for long it is a
   pleasurable  act of perpetuation of woody  life and leisure;
  life  in them  and  life for us in store of observation
   of  delectable  sight. There is always rhyme in  
   chirping and butterflies skipping around ;
   birds  and gurgling  brooks  and parrots green
   and  throbbing  doves  are Times’  celestial;
   I  write  and  sages  and  visionary seers
   and seekers of wisdom  just  as bards of  
   ancient past wrote  and still the art of
   writing goes  on  amidst  seeing Hell of
   Heaven or Heaven of Havens: we all are
   Bound  by Time’s collocation; Time goes on still.     

 






Thursday, September 14, 2017

two lined


  1)inundation
   many cocooned -life’s  hectic  drift

2)  by the  waves
  art of net in progress slowly flowing in

2) pick up many sands
folder of writing opening and  glows












Haiku on worskshop


Costco to coffee
 me – all in a pact of
soft grinding


Saturday, September 09, 2017

And on what (  after Guardian)


 And on what (  after Guardian)


Kicking within  four walls
Of  the womb, the  growing babe
From the  process of  embryo
to the days of growth does not
Question its comfort or  care;
Yet,  the full grown outside
Imbecile  are we, in our ever
Questioning  attire  and  flamboyant
Rope have oftener many a  misgiving.
Parents’ blithe  indulge or  bodily urge
Life is  a  Life   for Soul  and  Karma’s
Crave. There  cannot  be  an error  in
His  Design  and  chiseled  Mould.
Ageless  and ceaseless is the path
Between the  instinct   and   the
 survival   and  Imperative   Death mode.
Ugly  and   foolish is  the perpetuation
Of  Death’s lineage.







  






Thursday, September 07, 2017

I know not why

I know not why!
The great Bard's adage like
"in my beginning is my end"
or in my  end is my beginning
is true I  know  not for certitude,
but the middle is vicariously  taunting
and   dangerously tricky;
many a  test of walking  in water,
holding  the fire in hand,they dream on:
for the commoner these  are impossible
dull   moments  of  impasse  one  has to
rivet  with; no dreamcasftles in the air;
dragonfly  in me is  always   stupendously
alert  and  adept  to  move on.
Now  my ropewalking   is  set to begin;
this way or  that way,  fasten to the
belief ,  safe entourage  is not  far off.
Accept the  reality of  mystic beginning
and sudden end  in your  baggage .

Wednesday, September 06, 2017

haiku


after all  she - with
her  unfinished novel
flat on bed

Monday, September 04, 2017

haiku


sister  defeat
leading me on to dais
above me   spider



rowing  many
sad expectations before
reaching ashore


some with thick glass
holding on – to view the
  sunless  parade




on "quiet" and childhood memories

darkening  silence
roadside  sleep and  ambulance
city’s eyesore
   
 math’s  period
rows  of  kneel down
eerie silence

Sunday, September 03, 2017

on "boat"


music  of  many 
 in  the  sea -saw  move
  water giving way



cool moon
these  boats  are watchmen  over
the  shore



bird  swims  on
aviation mission-- on
   gusty wind




Saturday, September 02, 2017

Epilogue (after guardian)

Epilogue ( after Guardian)
Muse by the board, a  gentle
tap and   numbers flow,threadbare
weave  and  much of meaning;
with  a  sweep  of global images
across  the warp and weft of
poet's painting  brush,  a  masteful
quick stroke, as the creater imagines,
a confessional take,  pious recordation
of  no harming  or  booming, you stay
calm  and  cool,  nothing  happened.
Gubernatorial Sun  always   shines
irrespective of  success  and  failures
in our lives, none can gainsay that.
Now, plot and  structures  are of no
avail.we are poor passing  facts,
sailing  or suppressed by the
evanescent  time factor.

Saturday, August 26, 2017

One day on the sands of beach ( after Guardian)


One  day   on the  sands of  beach ( after Guardian)
One  day   he  came  back to the
Sandy shores  after  so much of  rumination;
The Blue’s  charm  and majestic  roar
Enchanted  them with a  permeating glue.
Invincible  power  and  might of  Nature
Stood afore . Roar  is  never  simply
 a  roar, but a siren for erring side.
He questions  why this prolonged
Silence from  super powers? Are
they giving a   long rope? A nod by the
 Almighty for the time being?
 Slow the   reach mode pervasive,
deepening  dark took them  into
the  abysmal night, but never calming
his  urge for quest for many unsolved
issues for quite long. That night was not
mere night -slow awakening them into
a Dawn of day and  endless  routine.
Cool Moon is always there, following us
Wherever we go. Or de we follow it ,
I know not now.We are forever children
In summer’s mode,erasing our tensions.