Soul of Gerontius after (Guardian)

Soul of Gerontius  after (Guardian)

After  some   tedium, questioning

my body I went to sleep, just to wake up

 a soothing lulled  to cheer me.

A sudden relief, as if wind swept past me

triggers; a  feel of segregation, time

or that sanguine hour has come,

something departed for ever. Blessed Soul

lingers in me like a message of Messiah!

Sacred still and freeing of a heaviness

flowing in me like a river perennial

aiding agricultural tillage.

This body is proud of its lineage,

All the fibers and tendons are

moving without a  sense of motion

what do you call still standstill;

soul outside its purview; is it science

or philosophy, or combination of turgid

philosophy beyond the reach of man;

I  feel that I am out of this universe,

Infinite is infinitesimal when it touches

the point of pinnacle or endpoint;

some angelic spirit, holds  by way

of some consolation, a gentle sway

a music of melody -a  sort

of heart-subduing melody.

After -- Sonnets from Idea's Mirror by Michael Drayton)

(

(After -- Sonnets from Idea's Mirror by Michael Drayton)

(After --  Sonnets from Idea's Mirror by Michael Drayton)

I sit to write my verse or sonnet or free haiku,

It flows as the seeds as with sweeping toll;

let not my critic censure  me with stern comments

as  that of my taskmaster or GOD the supreme ruler;

or tap my flow with grace and savored taste;

my papers stay   as usual with a nonchalant look,

yet, I am not susceptible to any criticism

or swayed by any praise, my spirit stays

as Swan like in any  pond or stream;

keep printing or arranging the printed

in shelves of fragrance lest moths should

corrode, waiting  for good days or Dawn;

some earnest publisher will knock at my door

luring me with prospects of  good catch.

My love, bosom love reigning always                  

in heart, not craving for costly attire

yet to be dressed in elegant and tidy.

All thoughts, creative ideas proceed

Swelled not with pride, but with attire

 of  humbled wisdom passed on from

generations of tutored culture.    

My Muse waits there for more

To be tuned in writing.

After Guardian – “ When winter comes by Jane Clarke”..

After Guardian – “ When winter comes by Jane Clarke”..

A hard   day of  labor,

laborious for  the day,

innocent metal stretching

its legs on the mound,

the wary  eyes  and angry

stretch of hammer, ready 

to strike to bend the hard,

unbendable; the red embers

at the furnace glow; do you

think the   steel hot is forgiving,

for blacksmith endures hither

and thither on his hands, bubbles

to be anointed by his beloved

at home when he reaches at

the end of the day; some pain

afore pleasure, she gently consoles.

Everything  needs a process

grinding stone, grinding,

till it  transformed  a  shiny Gold.

How many cards we have!

How many cards we  have!

All said and done,

Life is a card  game,

A labyrinth of unsolved

Riddles, just as the blinding

Mist  in the morn, we are caught

in the quagmire ;

keep  the kitchen burning,

hearth in bed of warm,

nutty fast food in your menu

and night shows  and  scroll

into mobile uploads;

starched   poly cotton  sari,

and T-shirts; billing and packed

all pushed in the corner seat of

your car ; simply a gentle swipe

of  Credit cards  and debit in different

nomenclatures, Master and Visa cards

rule  gentle  in your wallet;

Mama says credit card is a Waste,

Papa opines  Chase  is a  show;

But his spouse insists these are a must. 

    

TANKA --DEATH THEME

    

making inroads

into her cells  day by day

a silent  journey

until the final call  

 an accepted therapy

Drama lessons ……after Guardian

Drama  lessons ……after  Guardian

In the drama of  Life,

For life is full of dramatic

events, setbacks and turnings

like fortune teller’s magic wand

touch and read and go:  Day

in and day out is life is set

to the tunes of characters

and dialogue  and scenic shifts;

 like rapturous music and  wordplay

from palladium  girls chant like chorus;

Sudden emergence of   young girls

like in gorgeous colors decked

worshipfully folding hands, some

as if handicrafts  dexterous woven;

elsewhere, hand is missing, as if

chipped off with one eye looking;

odd girl disappearing sudden

with the slang and strange looks;

some come back with red eyes;

curtain draws as  the snow falls;