To a bare minimum

The yawning and edging

Say, why can’t
we cut off that
‘to do list’
to a bare minimum
to bone level
to save us from
the yawning and
edging on our way
to the bloody gold hunt
the whole globe is
driving us;
and to breathe
a good breath?

Impossible !
Not in list.

To save ancestors’ souls

Availability

Option was abundant
occurrence rare then,
only annual;
among crowded groups
awaiting opposite opposite
banks of our village tank.
How achesome
To choose
one certain barber
to shave,
one certain brahmin
to perform rites
to save ancestors’ souls
from recurrent withholdings
in petrified heavens.
Mobile phones
avoid hurting .
Now.

Available lemons and possible lemonades

Of lemons and lemonades

Those trees were quitte old;
when accounted with
foregone shadows of numerous
generations rested under;
burying their promises
and presences
like fallen leaves
reborn and revolving
in the cycle of returning.

Their suggestion, so simple;
make the possible lemonades
with the available lemons,
as moments get shorten
with trees growing
older

Who cares about what you feel ?

The only child of an American soldier


It’s so sickening, full of pathos
To be the only child of an American Soldier
Hated through out the world
Through out the area you live
Through out the school you study
Though the soldier went to make
Wars on innocent and arrogant
By commandments ;
Who cares about what you feel ?

Her stars and sky

The Country Wife

She reaches the condemned

cities of concrete, tar. and

sound, ditch and gas .

along with other

grieving to

live with.

Her stars, sky,

soil, stream,

wood and hills,

Lurking within;

Make a peep up

show like a bird

or the wind

from south

on her

every call. .

Cities fail to

Assert her

From delights

Saved inner

Word breathes

Word is dead

Word is dead

already before

it’s taken form

of a sound

or a script;

We get

The carcass

of it like

a nut

buried within

the encasement

of a groundnut .

Word breathes;

pulsates;

bleeds too; when

It is within

the inner;

struggling to

get a form.

The groundnut

or any seed,

Like the dead

Word gets

another chance

of rebirth.

But that too

is short lived

until it’s born;

We make

great fuss

dealing with

shells ever.

A habit.

The fame of an illiterate potter and a parakeet

The mystery

A sweet singing

parakeet and a

smart winding potter

befitting to be

the partners of

a fable lived

longer together

for ten years.

under a tree.

Their fame went

Abroad

Many Cambridged,

Harvarded and

Oxforded ladies

And gentlemen

Came to see

him and his parakeet ,

every time with the

same query.

‘Where did

you both study?’

Potter’s reply

left them unbelieving.;

They went

doubting how

a parakeet and

a potter left

ungraduated or un- PGied

in a reputed university

or not studied in any

Schools of music and pottery

Could sing or make

Pottery?

Off- late one

among them decided

to do a doctorate

out of the mystery.

She did and

everything

went clear;

nobody came

nor queried

the potter

for all

referred to

The thesis.