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 II

Patience my heart, I told myself,
Enjoy the moment and don’t rush;
But the moment took over

and we lost ourselves to love,
Blushing cheeks of my love

turned crimson red;
Was the sun getting warmer

or the meadow on fire?
She gently took my hand on hers

and embraced me,
Her slender arms around me, caressing,

As if to reassure,
Eyelids opening slightly,

fluttering like a butterfly,
She smiled,
And my heart molt.
[13]

She took my hand,
Kissed it once, kissed twice,
And gently put my hand
On her heart
;
The air went out of my chest,
As her warm breath touched my face,
Brushing my cheeks lightly,

Her sweet breath shortened,
A sense of urgency that I wanted to prolong;
And with every breath,
Her heart racing,
Her twin peaks of desire rose and fell
As she gently squeezed my hand
and pressed it down,
The floodgates of heaven were thrown open
and passion rushed in,
My resolve failed.
[14]

Those two throbbing balls of desire
gently curving up,
Never had my eyes behold
such a delightful sight;
Firm like an orange

but soft like a ripe mango,
Dancing in tandem
with her rapid breath;
Inviting and alluring,

Supple and soft
Tempting and seducing,
Demanding explorations
but also entreating

a gentle handling, and
as I traced their graceful curves,
She moaned,
Breathing a contented sigh.
[15]

Warmth radiating from her
Slowly engulfed me in a trance,

From her dimpled chin
drops of sweat fell
to the base of her graceful neck;

The tiny rivulet coursing
ever so slowly down

through her heaving bosom,
As a river meanders
from its source to the ocean;
I gazed transfixed

as I traced its course,
Her velvety smooth skin
offering no resistance to the flow,

It emerged from the narrow pass
of her breasts

into the flat valley below;
The glistening stream

pooled for a second
in the slight depression

of her navel,
And a fear raced through
my mind,
I stopped.
[16]

[December 1, 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-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

From Vault of Memories Past

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

Introduction

Thirty six years back, on a hot summer night I left my home and boarded a train to my alma mater in Varanasi, India on my way to a land and future unknown. With lots of dream in my eyes and a nearly empty pocket, with a passport and visa on hand, I left the comfort of a secure job for an uncertain future.

That I will write something, that too poetry, was furthest from my mind on that day. Fast forward thirty years, I was writing poems, had a blog going and before I knew it six years have passed. However I was restless. I just couldn’t sit still for hours on and keep on writing. So my poems were short, some really short. I was even afraid to attempt to write short stories. Then the pandemic happened and the world turned on its head. Who thought that people would be stuck in their homes for months with nowhere to go, basically grounded by a microscopic virus.

Through all the sufferings and loss, people coped with the situation in their own way. At the end of November of 2020, I sat down to attempt writing a long poem with a consistent theme. I kept at it for nearly four weeks, writing atleast a stanza every day. The result was a poem in six parts with fifty three stanzas and nearly five thousand five hundred words with a prologue and an epilogue.

Now came the hard part. I was sure that this long poem would need editing before being published. Editing was not my forte. So first I requested my daughter, who had a knack for writing, to read and edit the poem, but when I discussed with her the theme of the poem she refused. Maybe she felt that I lost my nuts. I then approached my eldest son to review and edit. After much hemming and hawing, he did few stanzas and then he stopped. There it languished for more than six months till I decided today to post it in parts, couple of stanzas every week on Fridays for next few weeks.

So, here it is. I start with the prologue and from next Friday will start with the first two stanzas of part I. Appreciate my readers constructive criticism.

Prologue

The voice was mellifluous;
The magic was still there;
Maybe age had softened it a little;
A little tired, little sad,
But the first “Hello, Love”,
Lit the fiery passion in my heart,
A fire that was kept well hidden,
Dormant for so long;
Blood rushed to my head,
I wanted to shout with joy,
Words rushing choked my throat,
Wanted to hug her hard,
And smother her with warm kisses,
But before I could say a word,
The voice from the past
Whispered in my ears,
Love of mine, keeper of my
Heart and soul,
Did you guard my youth well;
Because today I have come
To ask it back,
To recreate the magic of eons ago,
When on a meadow far away
As the sun set, and
Under a moonlit sky,
Inhibitions were shed,
Lust vanquished,
Passion calmed,
Love reigned,
I gave myself to you,
Carried you in me always,
A flower blossomed,
And we became one.
[December 17, 2020]

© Pranabendra Sarma 2021

Free bird caged in a pub

Another poem in a series that I started writing in my mother tongue Axomiya (Assamese) during the pandemic and translating few of them to English from time to time. Hopefully someday I shall be able to compile them in a book or chapbook. Both the English and Axomiya poems are posted below.

A free bird, I roam the blue sky yonder,
O’ doe eyed beauty, you spread your web of love down under,
Seduced, searching for company, hoping for a little love, I was snared,
O’ ye seductress, playful enchantres, in search of a new prey everyday,
Today you must have spread your net in a place far away,
And I, a bird caged, in the confines of an unknown pub somewhere,
Search for hint of freedom in glasses of wine, poured by the bar maid.

পিঞ্জৰাবদ্ধ বন্দী বিহঙ্গম

উৰণীয়া পখিটি মই, মুক্ত মনেৰে কৰোঁ বিচৰণ বিশাল গগনত,
মেলি দিলা ধৰণীত তোমাৰ প্ৰেমৰ মায়াজাল হৰিণী নয়নী,
প্ৰলোভিত ম‌ই সঙ্গসুখৰ, এধানি মৰমৰ আশাত দিলোঁহি ধৰা,
বিলাসিনী তুমি চঞ্চলা মোহিনী, নিতে নৱ চিকাৰ সন্ধানী,
আজি হয়তো তোমাৰ মায়াজাল পাতিছা কোনোবা দূৰণিত,
আৰু বন্দী বিহঙ্গম ম‌ই, আৱদ্ধ কোনো অচিন পানশালাৰ পিঞ্জৰাত,
চাকীয়ে ঢালি দিয়া মদিৰাৰ পিয়লাত বিচাৰোঁ মুক্তিৰ ৰেঙনী।


https://wp.me/p73yZZ-4ks

Valentine with a twist

Wrote this poem today morning in Hindi. I do not know why. That’s the language the thoughts came rushing in and I just wrote it quickly before forgetting. Afterwards I translated it to my mother tongue Axomiya (Assamese) and English. Posting them in the same sequence here.

Continue reading “Valentine with a twist”

Original Sin and the Forbidden Fruit

Thy thin waist, the
Twin crescent moons,
In those curves
I dive,
Douse my love, and
Emerge purified;
The puritans, the believers,
Paint it as lust.


Those who look for beauty,
Only in merging with
The one unseen,
Blind are they to nature’s gifts, and
Brush it as the original sin.


Let them search
For the fountain of
Everlasting peace in heaven,
One never seen,
I have found mine
In my imagination,
And is blessed,
By the forbidden fruit.

The Bud

Every bud
brings a message of hope,
A mystery to be unraveled,
What it holds
Tightly in its chest;
As it blooms, spreads
Beauty and fragrance,
It does not know
Will it be plucked
Or just wither away,
It blooms,
It’s in its nature,
Tomorrow is another day.
We move forward,
Carrying that message,
Cherishing the good,
And spread,
Love and warmth
All around.


Featured image photo by author