The Night Sky

Wikimedia Commons

I often take shelter

in dusk’s uncluttered space,

in its open layout

and breathe-

it’s serene and simple

adorning a single star

like a single artwork on a living room wall-

I love its bold statements

of emphasizing on less ornamentation

and focusing on

purity, simplicity and composure

like a wise soul of few words-

as dusk leaves and night sky wakes up

with constellations and asterisms

vying with each other to tell their stories,

I remember

the relaxed smile

of dusk-

Silence

Wikimedia Commons

When you need to dig the sand

to behold your river’s wizened face-

when your town folds up its crow wings

in the scarlet dawn-

when you wistfully remember

all those invisible sparrows

that once jingled in the trees by the roadside-

when rains remain a distant dream-

when your thoughts are scorched,

your words are sapped of their soul-

when the day is dark

and night is the norm

and you are voiceless

facing realities-

you know what silence is-

Hunter

SOURCE

The lanky man with four pairs of eyes

(Two of course are glass made)

Is an ambush predator

He loves truth mimicry

You wouldn’t dream

How he has kept

His other six legs hidden somewhere

You better walk past him

Because once he spots you

The lines in his mouth

Begin to stir, tongue rolls

To form word web

You’ll be unwittingly ensnared

And your legs will get caught

In that subtle, silky spiral orb net

You will be a helpless immobile prey

His hidden legs will then show up

A beam will play about his mouth

Highly satisfied

Thinking his day’s not been wasted

He will make your mind numb

And slowly devour you

So be the last person

To pay heed to him

Politicians are crafty, beware!

 

Green April

Photo : Sumana Roy

on a blazing April day

this Green Man,

holding a green gun smiles

and stands

on a flat green wood-block,

under a tree

and combats

poverty-

April is a shroud

that lies breathless

on stone pavers

in Kota Tua, Jakarta*,

holding Army Toys

in its bosom-

in the solar fire

I am grief-burnt-

*Kota Tua, Jakarta, officially known as Kota Tua, is a neighborhood comprising the original downtown area of Jakarta, Indonesia. The site contains Dutch-style-structures mostly dated from 17th Century, when the port city served as the Asian headquarters of Dutch East India Company during the heyday of spice trade.—Wikipedia

Miracles

Wikimedia Commons

I saw her mouth

Opening and closing,

Gasping,

Like a fish out of water-

I wished I could breathe

For her-

Her eyes were closed,

In coma she was-

Yet I saw tears

Rolling down her cheeks-

I was shocked-

I knew only too well

Breath is a miracle-

So is death

Relieving her of all the pains

Into a forever sleep-

I Was His Last Duchess Before…..

Lucrezia de’ Medici by Bronzino or Alessandro Allori, generally believed to be the subject of the poem My Last Duchess : Wikipedia

I am Lucrezia de Medici, a thirteen year old,

You see me hanging in black, red and gold.

It was at this age when my Duke sought my hand,

I was happy, as always, to be his Duchess grand.

When I looked on and my eyes fell on everything,

‘Spots of joy’ surfaced from the depths of my being,

Be it my husband’s presence or an orange sunset,

‘Too soon made glad’ was I; ‘too easily impressed’.

I was aware of the music from my white mule’s hooves,

Yet unknowing of the man eyeing my every move-

Who knew it’s unchaste to have a joy for life?

I wish I had a mindset shift to stay alive-

Though I smiled whenever my Duke passed me,

Alas! I catered such smiles to all and sundry.

I was too naive to perceive this strange life’s demands,

I exceeded the mark perhaps; so he gave commands.

All my ‘smiles stopped’; no ‘trifling’ to ever happen,

To spite a nine hundred year old hallowed family name.

I was his last duchess before another graced his household,

Now I am a work of art in black, red and gold.

A Child’s Wish

The Great Banyan Tree at the Botanical Gardens in Howrah

This is my childhood

where I live-

it’s fairly livable

because you have a father

who is the Botanical Garden’s Banyan

always giving you shade-

because you have a mother

who is home,

sweet home to you-

you have a little brother to play with-

you also have a storytelling grandpa

and a pickle expert grandma-

the moon looks like a moon

not like a knight’s buckler-

the hawk-cuckoo sounds like a bird

not like a siren-

and we witness with big open eyes

the birth of a nation;

East Pakistan becoming

Bangladesh-

a Tagore song

becoming their national anthem-

isn’t this world pretty?

I wish to float in this beautiful bubble

of a childhood forever

I hope time will never prick it

sharply-

Fifteen Reasons to Remain Silent

Wikimedia Commons

1) Because my tongue is frozen

around winter hearts-

2) Because I am piecing together the shards

of my mind that was heartbroken-

3) Because I was made to sit on an ebony night astride,

my mouth stitched up with grief-

4) Because I am an open eye looking within-

5) Because I am an ear set to the silence within-

6) Because I am learning stillness-

7) Because I will to take a dip in the ocean of peace

8) so that I unlearn cacophony-

9) so that I pick out a note from a tuneless world-

10) Because I am slowly drifting to a dreamland

where life is a Black Water Pond or a Fall Song

or simply The Journey

11) Because I am in wait for ages-

12) Because I am athirst for a delight living in words-

13) Because I know you have them-

14) Because I long for those warm, honeyed words

that would melt on my numbed tongue-

15) I’ll remain a prisoner of silence if you are no more you-

It’s Not Just……

Photo : Sumana Roy

It’s not just a bird watching day-

it’s a moment of memory making

when out of nowhere

a cormorant appears and perches

on a bamboo stump, rising above the pond

with the intent to make a kill,

in front of you, busy on the look out

for a feathered friend, on your balcony-

it’s a moment

when bliss enters your heart-

you spread your wings

in the peace of it-

Photo : Sumana Roy