From Vault of Memories Past – (Continued)

[I wrote this poem over a span of one month. As the poem is long , I shall post it in parts every Friday. It’s a poem about love but some may find the content semi-erotic. Lest their finer senses be disturbed, be aware and proceed at your own risk.]

Link to the previous part : https://wp.me/p73yZZ-4lM

Part II

How does one write about one’s own heart?
A feeling that lies buried deep inside,
Carried to every part of one’s being,
A constant reminder of being alone, but not,
A dull ache that throbs,
A painful reminder of what could have been
and now never would be,
Memories that would be carried
for the remainder of the life,
Memories that cut deep and slowly bleed pain,
drip, drip, drip,
Freeze the moment and stop time,
exhilaration and it heals.[9]

The moment from eons ago
when we first embraced,
My fingers stroking your lustrous hair,
A wave a satiny black cascading to infinity,
Darker than the darkest night,
Like the darkness from the abyss of a bottomless ocean,
Sweet fragrance of jasmine
wafting in the air from the wavy darkness, and
lost in the depth of those dark waves,
My fingers touched
the graceful arc of a swan’s neck
and I found heaven.[10]

[November 29, 2020]

Pulsating veins in a neck
gently bent backwards
as my fingers traced up,
A beautiful song in the making,
Quivering rosy lips parting softly,
Hint of a pearly whites necklace
showing the tip of a rosy tongue,
As I softly touched those inviting lips
with the tip of my index finger,
A soft moan ensued
and the most beautiful pair of eyes
that I had ever seen,
Opened slowly and looked into my eyes;
And I sank
In the deepest mystery
of those bottomless eyes;
Rendered senseless.[11]

Thin eyebrows arched like a bow
framed a smooth halfmoon forehead
glistening in the afternoon sunlight
filtering through the leaves,
Unwrinkled smoothness that
unable to contain
the beads of pearls of rising passion,
let it flow over the bridge
of the slightly upturned nose,
perfectly angled;
And as it dropped ever so slowly
from the tip of the nose to
moisten a pair of thirsty lips, I gasped;
No salt of passion ever tasted so sweet
to the waiting lips of a thirsty lover.[12]

[November 30, 2020]

© Pranabendra Sarma, 2021

Connect with me in twitter @pranabsarma2020

From Vault of Memories Past – (Continued)

[I wrote this poem over a span of one month. As the poem is long , I shall post it in parts every Friday. It’s a poem about love but some may find the content semi-erotic. Lest their finer senses be disturbed, be aware and proceed at your own risk.]

Link to the previous part : https://wp.me/p73yZZ-4lw

Part I (continued)

Please come near.
Age has robbed my vision;
It is not as clear.
You say it does not matter,
You promise to speak,
If I keep my eyes shut
And let my
Feelings speak.[5]

My hands cupped in yours,
Lilting voice I
Waited so long to hear.
Lovingly you spoke.
“Keep your eyes closed, my dear, and
Feel me with your imagination,
Fill my heart with tender words,
Words of passion, not of lust,
Words that a life-time will last.” [6]

Touch me, my love, with your feelings
From head to toe,
And whisper those words of love
In my ear.
Let your imagination sculpt
A picture of my youth,
I shall always carry with me.
Let the passion flow
And let us flow
In the torrents of love.
Vagaries of time may be cruel,
But we shall have enough,
To last a lifetime and more.[7]

Don’t hold back my dear,
I have felt your touch before;
The rousing passion,
Love mingled with lust,
The explorations and the discoveries,
All inhibitions shredded,
All these years I have carried you
Inside me.
Today, let me hear in your words,
Strip me bare,
And let me feel myself,
In your words,
Let me quench my thirst.[8]

[November 25, 2020]

© Pranabendra Sarma, 2021

Connect with me in twitter @pranabsarma2020

From Vault of Memories Past – (Continued)

[I wrote this poem over a span of one month. As the poem is long , I shall post it in parts every Friday. It’s a poem about love but some may find the content semi-erotic. Lest their finer senses be disturbed, be aware and proceed at your own risk.]

Link to the previous part : https://wp.me/p73yZZ-4lh

Part I

You came!
It’s been ages since you left,
And all I could do was wonder,
What went wrong?
Spent days and night,
Seeking an answer,
What took you so long?[1]

Time has left its mark,
My cataract eyes unfocused,
Let me get my glasses,
Let me get an eyeful,
And ascertain,
The image that I have,
Is the same.[2]

What, forget my glasses,
Keep my eyes shut?
Then let me feel you,
The way I felt you,
An eon ago,
On that sun-lit meadow,
Under the trees.[3]

Let me touch your lips,
Does it still quiver,
And speak without speaking,
The meanings of
Your unspoken words,
Rushing through my veins,
Radiating warmth
During nights of
The coldest moon.[4]

[November 25, 2020]

© Pranabendra Sarma, 2021

The lament of the Grape

Plucked from my mother,
Thrown with my kith and kin,
My flesh,
Crushed and pressed
In dark dungeons,
As my blood flowed into
Wooden barrels,
To be aged,
Bottled and corked,
And be sold, and
As you open the bottle,
And pour,
You sniff my blood
And exhale, satisfied;
And my blood touches
Your lips,
And you swirl it, slowly,
Ever so slowly,
You sip,
As my blood course
Down your throat,
The sugar courses
Through your vein,
And the warmth radiates
Through your body,
Don’t pontificate that
I didn’t feel any pain.
In your satisfaction
Lies mine,
Remember, for your satisfaction,
I gave my life,
Acknowledge it,
And my sacrifice, my life,
Won’t be in vain.
But never again do say,
I didn’t feel any pain.

---

this poem is the result of a lively discussion between vegetarian and non-vegetarian in a WhatsApp group.

Dragonfly

Sunrays filtering through her translucent wings,
As she rose effortlessly,
What a beauty she was,
Pure and unspoiled,
As I ran after her,
Oblivious,
She hopped from flower to flower,
Oh such a beautiful day,
Shiny and bright,
Such a joy it was,
To be with the
Dragonfly in flight.

Why did you steal my
Childhood from me,
You, who dress in piety,
Those lips that proclaim the
Name of God incessantly,
How can it hide teeth so sharp,
Shredding me to pieces,
You who proclaim special days
For children, women and mothers,
Speak of the divine and of heaven,
Did you ever think of hell,
When you stole my childhood
From me and left me to rot,
In your hell.

The wings are now torn,
No more translucent,
They don’t reflect
the sunlight no more,
Its limp body shaking,
The dragonfly lies in the
Palm of my hand,
I close my fist,
Darkness.
There goes a monster,
He says,
Piously calling God,
And
Praying for my salvation.

Ah, do you notice
The dark shadows
Of sin
As the saints
March in.

Those Red Lips

The day started with light banters with friends in some WhatsApp groups and soon I ended up writing a short poem in Hindi that I translated in short order to my mother tongue Axomiya ( Assamese) and English. So far so good. However trying to present all three poems side by side in one page proved more troublesome than writing and translating the poems. To make a long story short, after some trial and error, and unfortunately munching on snacks that were surely unwanted, here I am. Rest assured the poem is light, however after all those snacks I cant say that for myself.

Photo in the background free from internet.

---

Drunken Love

They say that I am drunk

Little do they know that

Not a single drop of liquor

Touched these lips ever

But the two drops of nectar

That I sipped from those

Heavenly lips of yours

Made me crazy with love

Forever

This Feeling of Loneliness

I wrote a poem in Hindi day before yesterday morning.  This is a rarity for me.  Hindi is not my mother tongue and Hindi grammar,  specially keeping track of the change in gender of the subject / object / verb combination is difficult for me.  From time to time I did venture in writing a few.  I translated the poem to Axomiya ( Assamese – my mother tongue) day before yesterday evening  and to English today morning.   Posting these below with English translation first followed by original Hindi poem and then Axomiya translation.
( In the Assamese translation, the translated word for Eerie ( or strange) is a compound word “Advut”.  Even with my best try, my PC ( Windows 10) will not allow this compound letter/ word to be written properly.  So I was forced to replace it with a synonym, Achahua.  Though SwiftKey, owned by Microsoft, allows this to be written perfectly on my cell phone, PC does not support SwiftKey.  Windows 10 virtual Assamese keyboard for PC sucks, pardon my French. Whereas Windows 8 and 8.1 used to support Indic 3 allowing to incorporate any Indian language keyboards, Windows 10 has stopped supporting that.)

Eerie this feeling of loneliness
Lips have not kissed the bottle
Then why this hangover
Day slips away as I brood
Memory fails remembering my thoughts

Eerie this feeling of loneliness
Perfect eye sight
But I see nothing
As I spend the day gazing
Canvas remains empty, vision blank

Eerie this feeling of loneliness
Desk full of papers
Day dreaming plot twists
As the sun moves west
Not a word written
Papers remain blank

Eerie this feeling of loneliness
Never asked for this
As I look around me
World full of people
Then why feel lonely
Never understood
Intuition fails me

Eerie this feeling of loneliness…..

अकेलापन

अकेलापन भी बड़ी अजीब चीज़  है
ना हाथ में शराब  है
बस महसूस एक पीने की
सोचते दिन निकल गया
याद नहीं कुछ सोच की

अकेलापन भी बड़ी अजीब चीज़ है
आंखों में चश्मा सही
आंखों से कुछ दिखता नहीं
दिनभर मैं देखता ही रहा
निगाहें भरी नहीं

अकेलापन भी बड़ी अजीब चीज़ है
सामने पडा़ कागज़ सही
दिनभर सपने देखता रहा
सुबह से शाम होने लगी
एक अक्षर मैने लिखा नहीं

अकेलापन भी बड़ी अजीब चीज़ है
मैंने  तो कभी ये चाहा नहीं
चारों तरफ ढेखी दुनिया
लोगों से भरपूर ही सही
फिर भी ये अकेलापन
मैं कभी यह समझा नही

अकेलापन भी बड़ी अजीब चीज़ है…

এই অনুভূতি নিসঙ্গতাৰ

আচহুৱা যে এই অনুভূতি নিসঙ্গতাৰ
হাতত নাই পিয়লা ৰঙীণ সুৰাৰ
তথাপিও শৰীৰত ৰাগী মদিৰাৰ
ভাবৰ সাগৰত বুৰি উকলিল দিন
নপৰে মনত কিনো ভাবিলো ইমান

আচহুৱা যে এই অনুভূতি নিসঙ্গতাৰ
চকুত বিতচকু
কিন্তু নেদেখো একো
ওৰেটো দিন চকু বাহিৰত
শূন্য দৃষ্টি হাবিয়াস অপূৰণ
লক্ষবিহীন চাৱনি উদাস নয়নত

আচহুৱা যে এই অনুভূতি নিসঙ্গতাৰ
সমুখত খোলা কাগজৰ দম
ৰচি থাকো মই সৃষ্টিৰ সপোন
দিনৰ শেষত বেলি লহিয়াই
খালি হৈ ৰল কাকতৰ বুকু

আচহুৱা যে এই অনুভূতি নিসঙ্গতাৰ
মইতো বিচৰা নাছিলো কাহানিও
যি দিশে ফুৰাওঁ চকু এই সংসাৰত
মানুহৰে ভৰপূৰ পৃথিৱী দেখোন
কিয় বাৰু তেনেহলে অনুভূতি নিসঙ্গতাৰ
জীৱনৰ ই এক নুবুজা সাঁথৰ

আচহুৱা যে এই অনুভূতি নিসঙ্গতাৰ…..

Love is All That Matters

Darkness pitch black
Soft touch of
Exploring fingers
Quivering lips
In loving quest
Flowing warmth of
Burning desire
Exuberant thunder
Of deafening silence
Flowing through
Bursting veins
In that moment
Of ecstatic rupture
A fire was lit
Still burning
Over all these years
Lighting the path
Amidst the abyss
And mountains
In the end
Love is all
That matters

Dreams

Magical hands embrace me,
Gently lifting through the mist.
Shadowy veils covering her face,
Faint hint of smile on her lips.