words – Fleeting Muse

Two Paths Asunder

Shield of convoluted emotions erected,
deflecting logic;
The arrow that left the bow
does not return to the quiver;
Wounded heart bleeds silent,
Pierced by words sharper
than a stiletto;
Stewing in a broth of vanity,
Imagined martyrdom fails to understand
what went wrong;
The road has forked,
Paths diverged,
Promise of walking together
left by the wayside;
Distant horizon reflects
two paths asunder.

The poison I drank

In silence I suffer
The poison I drank,
Heart weeps lonely,
Tears run dry,
Afraid eyes may not lie,
I gaze at stars
At dead of night,
Words are damp
’cause my tears
rained on them,
Empty heart
Comes up barren,
When asked to give;
What value is
This life
That neither gives
Or takes,
Days pass by
As I merely survive;
Gently do I tread,
Walk to the grave,
Is lonely one;
At journey’s end waits
A cold embrace,
Mercy.

Shall go on writing my poems

Today is World Poetry Day. Seven years back, after a break of nearly five decades, when I again picked up the pen to write, I didn’t know that such a day even existed. I won’t have known today also but now that I am in Facebook, how will I be allowed to forget. So I paid my dues and posted a poem on my wall (or is it timeline) written in my mother tongue Axomiya (Assamese). I just now translated the poem to English. Posting both the poems here.

Pearls of words,
In solitude, drip;
Hear a sweet celestial melody
by the side of the creek,
As the crickets chirp.

In the distance
A bird unknown,
A melancholy tune sings,
Nature resplendent in advent of spring,
Spreads a carpet of vibrant green.

I wait for the
rose bud to bloom,
Maybe in her petals are hidden,
The words that will make
My poem sing.

The gentle breeze whispers
In my ears,
What secrets does she say;
I know not what melodies I hear, as
My heart dances in joy.

Nary a rain cloud in the sky,
Frogs gone berserk in expectation,
I listen intently, in silence
I may hear,
The words of my poem crescendo.

I wait with a string in my hand,
If solitude rains pearls of words,
Gently shall I pick them up,
A necklace I shall string, and
Go on writing my poems.

ৰচি যাম মোৰ কবিতা

নিৰ্জনতাত ঝিৰ ঝিৰ কৰি সৰে
শব্দৰ মুকুতা মণি,
জুৰিৰ দাতিত জিলিৰ মাতত,
সৰগীয় মধুৰ ধ্বনি।

দূৰৈত শুনো কোনো অচিন পখীয়ে
গাইছে বিহগ ৰাগিনী,
বসন্তৰ আগমনত সাজিছে প্ৰকৃতি,
সেউজ ঘাঁহৰ দলিচা খনি।

অপেক্ষাত ম‌ই ফুলিব কেতিয়া
গোলাপৰ কলিটি,
আছে জানো লুকাই তাতে,
মোৰ কবিতাৰ শব্দ মাধুৰী?

জুৰ মলয়াই কাণে কাণে মোৰ
কিনো কথা কয় গোপনে,
নাজানো মই শুনো কিনো সুৰ,
নাচে আনন্দত হৃদয় ঘনে ঘনে।

আকাশত দেখো নেদেখোঁ বাদল,
বৃষ্টিৰ আশাত ভেকুলী পাগল,
কাণ পাতি শুনো ম‌ই কিজানিবা নিৰ্জনতাত,
শুনো মোৰ কবিতাৰ শব্দৰ মাদল।

হাতত লৈ এনাজৰী আছোঁ বহি মই,
নিৰ্জনতাই বৰষে যদি শব্দৰ মুকতা,
আলফুলে বুটলি গাঁথিম মালাধাৰি,
ৰচি যাম মোৰ কবিতা।.

The Last of The….

A picture is worth a thousand words. And I must agree.

hanging for its dear life
The Last of The Parsimons

Photo by author.

In silence they came

In silence they came,

Slowly,

One by one,

Trickling in,but

In a steady stream,

Then the dam burst,

And they rushed in;

A torrent, a deluge,

How to make sense,

Of everything jumbled up.

Nudged me gently,

And then dragged me

From my slumber;

Swiftly I drew,

As my fingers flew,

From the madness emerged

An illusion

An apparition,

A celestial dance;

Music unspoken

Lulled me,

As I dozed,

And surrenderered to her arms;

Silently they left,

One by one;

She slipped away,

Leaving me with a memory

Etched in my heart.

Now where shall I find

The words,

To paint my masterpiece,

She still dancing

In my mind,

My muse eternal.

Uncomfortable

In search of a comfortable place

To seat and write my masterpiece,

I forgot my pen and paper,

And carried the words in my heart,

That made me very uncomfortable,

Ah, when you need your cell phone the most,

Why is it always out of charge,

And now that it is fully charged and rearing to go,

The words have left my memory bank,

(did I say I was getting old),

So now I am sitting comfortably,

And spewing out rubbish to make you uncomfortable,

(like the one tweeting every morning from his toilet seat).

Where Words Live

beware ye all who enter here,
words lie around here,
not to soothe thy heart.

here desires are stocked,
and hunger reigns,
quench your thirst at leisure,
when the liquor flows.

open thy mind,
let the exhilaration course
through thy veins,
feel the exquisite pain,
and see thy heart bleed.

immerse thee in the beauty
but beware of the thorns,
thou will be challenged,
may sometimes be titillated,
words may sometimes bite,
but they will not curse,
they will prick, and they may poke,
but they will never incite.

violence is abhorred here,
and love dispensed freely,
so take what you like,
who knows what tomorrow brings,
the glaciers recede,
and the river dies.

Taj of Poems

I spread my net
far and wide,
to catch the
pearls of word,
and string
a necklace of
love songs for you.

You came in like a
hurricane,
strewing everything
on your path.
My heart leaped,
rupturous waves
of emotion ran
through it,
and left me
speechless.