night – Fleeting Muse

Chasing a dream

I chase the sunset on different shores,
Over hills and valleys
wherever it goes,
I wake up to a new sunrise
every morning in different towns,
And go to bed on
different beds every night;

Open roads call and
I surrender my will,
I go where the road leads
and meet new people,
Some are white,
some black or brown,
I say hello and they say hi,
They ask where I am from
and I say name of the town;

We exchange greetings
and share some laughs,
They don’t ask who I am
and neither do I,
They don’t ask me
my religion nor do I;

We are just people
chasing our dreams,
We meet and part
with a friendly grin,
With my sweetheart by me
we roll on,
Chasing the sunset
on different shores,
A new sunrise waits
for the morning,
Tomorrow the open road
leads me home.

On a road trip across USA for last thirty five days and homeward bound now. Hopefully in a week.

Feelings of the Heart – a ghazal?

I wrote this ghazal in my mother tongue Axomiya (Assamese) yesterday and tried to translate it to Hindi. After a few futile attempts, I gave up as I just could not maintain the rhythm. Today I tried translating it to English and found that it was flowing much more smoothly though I should not call it a ghazal. I tried to follow the rules as closely as I could but not sure if I succeeded. Hence the question mark in the title. I post the poems in the order written.

The genie

I was sure I had bottled up
The genie,
and closed the lid shut tight,
Wary of being granted my wishes,
but always with a twist,
I promised myself I shall not ask.

Oh, how foolish was I,
she escapes every night,
the astral apparition,
comes dancing riding the clouds,
moonlight streaming from her hair,
dew drops dangling from her eye lashes,
lips soft like rose petals,
fingers like a painter’s soft brush,
she caresses.

Her breath like a soft breeze,
scented celestial, sensuous,
Softly I moan and try to embrace her,
to hold her tight to my chest,
my body burning with desire.

Gently she wiggles out and coos in my ears,
how dare you bottle up your heart,
and keep me away,
As I lament
another wasted night.

Dark was the night

These set of Haikus reflect my thoughts about the current situation of fires sparked by lightning in northern California

dark was the night sky

lightning’s macabre dance struck

prometheus laughed

*****

blue was the dawn sky

quick stepping fire, sensuous

grey sky hid the sun

*****

ravenous hunger

terrain, a sumptuous meal

scorched earth cries dry tears

****”

dreams collapse and die

nature’s fury relentless

a colorless sky

*****

dawn breaks, a dim sun

unstoppable red devil

bravehearts stand guard

*****

Moonbeams’ walk

Wrote this poem today morning and then translated to my mother tongue Assamese (Axomiya). Posting them in the same sequence here.

Have you seen
the moonbeams walk?
sometimes they
light your paths,
sometimes they
cast shadows,
sometimes they fill
your heart with joy,
sometimes they make
it bleed raw,
sometimes they get lost
in the glitter of city lights.
but when the moonbeams
walk into your heart,
keep it safe,
because on the darkest night
of your life,
you will need the moonbeams
to navigate,
and light your path
with fireflies.

জোনাকৰ খোজ

দেখিছানে কেতিয়াবা
জোনাকে তোমাৰ লগত
কৰা বিচৰণ?
কেতিয়াবা আলোকিত
কৰি তোমাৰ পথ,
কেতিয়াবা ছাঁয়াৰ বোলেৰে
আকে পট,
কেতিয়াবা আনন্দৰে
উজলাই হিয়া,
কেতিয়াবা হৃদয় কৰে
বিষাদে ভৰা,
আৰু কেতিয়াবা জোনাক
হেৰাই যায় চহৰৰ
ৰঙচঙীয়া সন্ধিয়াত।
কিন্তু কেতিয়াবা জোনাক
যদি সোমাই তোমাৰ অন্তৰত,
সাঁচি থবা আলফুলকৈ,
জীৱনৰ ঘনঘোৰ
অন্ধকাৰ দিনটোত,
উজলাব তোমাৰ পথ,
জোনাকী পৰুৱা হৈ।

Phone call at night

Every phone call that comes at night,

fills my heart with fright,

who is next, who is next,

this is what life has become,

with sadness, I wait for my flight,

till then life goes on,

I keep rowing my boat,

every morning I get up,

I send a thank you note,

and try to stay upright,

every night I go to bed,

I say, if this be my last,

let me dream, let me dream,

so that when I go,

the journey be funny and bright.

Transgressed

transgressed I have a lot,

never have I reined in my mind,

if I did not taste the bad,

how would I know what good was?

without the pain in my heart,

how shall the laughter flow?

will we wait for the dawn,

without the darkness of the night?

what’s the fun of achieving anything

without paying a fair price,

what nature provided free,

we value not and reach for the sky.

millions loved and returned to dust,

Laila and Majnu still rule our hearts.

The living dead

Why is this charade of living
Every moment is a struggle
A life living like a dead
Why this thirst unquenched
Relive daily the struggle to live
Is it just an illusion
A role playing
Dead playing the living
O’ you romantic
Yearning for a night
Under the starlit sky
Come share my bed
On the street
Even the full moon
Casts a dark shadow here
Hear my story and chronicle
The life of a living dead