Raindrops: Set of Three Haikus(photo by author)

Raindrops on leaves drip,
A transient impermanence,
Expectant earth waits.
**

Raindrops on leaves.


Tomorrow leaves fall,
Moist earth embraces the dead,
Rejuvenation.

Cherish the beauty,
Short life,lifelong memory,
In death, renewal.


I haven’t posted much on my blog for some time now. After a long forty day road trip of 9425 miles across USA, I was most probably getting lethargic. Few weeks back I started to write a long short story in my mother tongue Axomiya (Assamese) on my Facebook wall. Well, to make a long story short, after twenty eight episodes and nearly twenty seven thousand words, I haven’t yet seen the light at the end of the tunnel and falling very far behind. To be precise, still traveling hundred and eighty years in the past. I have still a long time to catch up to the present. I took the photograph of raindrops on rose leaves yesterday morning and as I was looking at the photo today, and it’s a gorgeous sunny day today, thoughts that came to my mind were transcribed by my fingers to a set of haikus. Obviously the rust shows.

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 Key to Memories – set of haiku

once adolescent 

romantic exuberance

ah, spring in the air

*****

words overflow, joy

love, pure and unbound, to share

luxuries of youth

*****

chest of memories

keys thrown, lost, bleeding heart weeps

passion takes roots, waits

*****

summer follows spring

harsh life, a dormant passion

hardy roots grow strong

*****

superfluous keys

memories of youth bygone

the tree grows stronger

 

The last memories

when memories fail,

and I no longer recognize me,

take me to the sea shore,

and leave me there on the beach.

as the rays of the setting sun

sets the blue sky ablaze,

and the fingers of an approaching evening

tenderly closes my eyes one last time,

as the gentle waves of the sea

sing a haunting lullaby in my ears,

and the high tides cradle

and carry me to the comforting depth of the sea,

as this enchanting world slowly slips away,

let these last memories be engraved on my eyes.

and on the day of the new dawn,

may be in another little corner of the universe,

reincarnation, a new beginning.

when I open my eyes to start a new journey,

blessed with the last memories,

fortunate to be born in this earth,

this blue sky, the warm sands by the sea side,

endless expanse of a rolling sea,

where the setting sun goes down

every evening with a promise of

a new dawn,

let these last memories

be with me.

Moments

I made peace with the moment.
What lies ahead, unknown.
What’s left behind, memories
I cannot change.
What matters now
Is this moment, precious,
I make no efforts to hold on.
Unknown to me I became an observer.
As this moment will pass,
I shall embrace
The one that comes.
Why worry
What it holds,
The mystery shall be revealed
In due time.

Hopes and heartbreaks

Stopped living by others’ expectations

And that made all the difference

Freedom to speak own mind

Fear of losing friends

Illusions

Hopes and heartbreaks

Things of past

Memories

These new wings flutter

Exhilaration

Tread alone if needed

Opened heart

To embrace the unknown

Childhood returns

Curiosity

Unbound explorations

Incarnation

Ready to resist

Crushing suffocation

Of a society

That lost its

Soul

You Are Old

You are old when your call is answered
And you are trying to remember who you called
You are old when your call is answered
And you ask why are you being called
You are old when your call is met with silence
And you hold the phone to your ear wondering why
You are old when your phone lies dead by your side
And you don’t remember a single number to call
So when you are still young, pick up the phone and call
Some one young at heart may respond and you have a ball
Before the fingers become stiff, ears go deaf
Eyes go blurry, memories fade and voice gets weak
Wake up, reach out, make a call and hug your near and dear ones

Memories of Evenings Past

Those golden evenings

Of days bygone

Of laughter, jokes and

Meaningless stories

Shooting the air as

Time flew

And nights took

Us gently in her bosom

Memories we carry

Deep in our hearts

Words that now

Floats through ether

Impersonal alphabets

On the screen

Leave a painful void

Searching hands

Empty of feeling

Missing personal touch

सिफ़र.

Everything and Nothing. And then some words.

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