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.]

Memories from a day in life many decades ago comes flooding back when the love of his life suddenly appears after a prolonged absence.

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

Part III

Part III (continued):

My hands moved gently,
Tracing the curves of her hips,
Over the seductive rise and

fall to her thighs,
Her smooth skins broke
out in goosebumps,

The hips quaked slightly,
Small tremors danced across

in a slow waltz,
Rising and falling,
Dancing to their own rhythm,

Like waves cresting and
In a trough crashing on the sea shore,
They moved in unison to my delight;

And just where the hips sloped away,
To meet a gorgeous pair of thighs,

The narrow, thin gorge turned,
And lost itself in mysterious unknown;

Patience, my heart,
I cautioned.
[22]

Deftly did my fingers dance,
From her slender waist

Up the rise and down her hips,
Over skin smooth as satin,

Her delicate muscles
Danced sublime,
To the magic of my feather touch;

Oh, how did I restrain myself,
And carefully tasted every morsel,

Visual bonanza that was offered
By my lovely damsel;

As I walked with my fingers
Down the gentle slopes,
I could sense a stiffening of

Her delicate muscles;
Expecting? a heightened desire? hesitation?
I was not sure;
Ever so slowly she moved

and crossed her legs,
And my fingers were imprisoned

in the soft nothingness of her
inner thighs;
I was mortified.
[23]

[December 4, 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.]

Memories from a day in life many decades ago comes flooding back when the love of his life suddenly appears after a prolonged absence.

Link to the previous part :https://https://wp.me/p73yZZ-4m6

Part III

Tried as much as we wished
to hold on to the moment and
stay in that eternal embrace,
Our racing hearts had

lost all controls and
a wild warmth was spreading fast.
With a sigh

she let go of me and
hid her face in her palms,
She turned her face away,
Turned her back to me and
lay face down on the meadows.
A streak of ray through the leaves,
Lighted her back in an ethereal glow,
Cascading dark hairs down her spine,
To the bottom of the

sensuous rise of her hips,
Contrasting the silky smooth

skin on her back,
Glowing in the afternoon sun;
She lay there

as if in a trance,
barely moving.
Her bare back

a canvas for me to paint,
My fingers as a brush
I gingerly proceeded,
Parting her hair tenderly,
I touched the nape of her neck,
An audible gasp escaped her lips,

She shuddered and tensed,
then relaxed;
And she smiled.
[20]

As my fingers played
music down her spine,
Gently touching and

probing down the center line,
She tensed and
relaxed in a rhythm,

I could feel her muscles
through her smooth skin,
dancing to my tune,

And slowly I moved down.
Her back narrowed
from her shoulder to her waist,

And then spread wide
to encompass the voluptuous rise,
I sauntered at the slight dip

where her spine met
the narrow, deep gorge
parting her hips;
Fearful of where that

dark deep gorge lead,
I ventured no more.
As she hesitated

and hold her breath
and lay motionless,
I gazed away
from the temptation.
[21]

[December 4, 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.]

Memories from a day in life many decades ago comes flooding back when the love of his life suddenly appears after a prolonged absence.

Link to the previous part :https://wp.me/p73yZZ-4m2

Part II(continued)

Curvaceous beauty she was not,
Not someone’s idea of right proportions,
A bud about to blossom into a fragrant flower,
Vibrant and mellow,
Neither thin like a reed blowing in the wind,
Nor amply endowed but plump where it mattered,
She had her flaws that filled my heart with joy
;
If I would have been a sculptor,
I would have taken a chisel in my hand
and sculpted her on the finest stone;
Like Venus De Milo,

her sculpture would have stood there on the meadows,
Beauty personified, a gift from God;
Alas, sculptor I was not,

I failed to immortalize thee,
But my love,

I sculpted every detail that I can see,
Tenderly in my heart it would be;
As the poet once said,

“A thing of beauty is a joy for ever”,
There, in my heart,

you would remain till end of eternity,
And I would selfishly enjoy your memory.
[17]

Oh, how I describe your beauty,
words fail me;
I could only gaze in wonder

as my fingers moved gently over your flat belly,
A navel perfectly formed

with a thin line of hair moving down,
lost in the valley below;
As my hand moved down,

The smooth belly tensed
and firmed under my hand;
Your spine arched

and your slender graceful hand
held me in a strong embrace;
You rested your head on my shoulders,

Finely manicured nails
digging deep into the skin of my back;
Fine, thin silky hairs

at the nape of your neck
standing erect,
Your chest crushing into mine,

Heaving and throbbing;
You cried.
[18]

Gently did I embrace you,
My finger tips moving slowly down
following the curve of your spine;
It must have tingled

when my fingers reached the base
where it joined the valley
between the rise
of the voluptuous half moons spread wide;
The quivering tremors

rushed across your body to me,
How was I aroused

as you hold me tight
and moved your hands gingerly down;
An eternity must have passed

as our bodies were so entwined,
Nary a hair could have passed

between us
as we stayed in that pleasant embrace;
You raised your head,

Looked into my eyes,
And you smiled;
Somewhere the forbidden fruit fell and

on that meadow,
I foun
d my heaven. [19]

[December 3, 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 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

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

Shooting from the heart- Ten Intricate One Liners

My first attempt at writing one liners.  I always liked poems for the brevity of expressions.  One liners challenge the poet to say what’s in his mind in as few words as possible but still be meaningful to the readers.  Hope my readers will find these meaningful.

 

Poison

Trapped by your charm, drank poison.

******

Silver Bullet

Your heart hides my silver bullet.

******

Pain

Pain of separation ravaged my heart.

******

Prisoner

Imprisoned by your charm, I’m blind.

******

Hurry

Hurry, the bell tolls, why dither?

******

Temptress

Temptress, your arrow pierced my heart.

******

Tears

May deserts bloom from your tears.

******

Nectar

Your kiss turned hemlock to nectar.

******

Mellifluous

Your mellifluous voice soothed my journey.

******

My Life

Hidden in your smile, my life.

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

 

Am I wrong to love my muse?

This poem started as a comment to this question posed by one of the most talented poet (thelonelyauthorblog ) I have  the good fortune to interact with.  Thank you Drew. The title of the poem and the first line is the question and the poem was my spontaneous response. I was not thinking of posting it as a stand alone poem till today morning when Drew asked me if I have posted this.  Hence posted without edit. 

Am I wrong to love my muse?”
If yes
Then may be
God was wrong
To let love flow
Because it’s beyond
Us mortals
Not to fall
In love
And suffer
The pain
That opens
The floodgate
Of passion
And every drop
That bleeds
Adorns the pages
And the clouds
Carry the silent cries
To my muse