STOCKTAKE

Don’t know how we spent all these years ?

With our likes,dislikes love, hate and fears?

There were times when you bloomed roses

On moist lips and lotuses in secret spaces

Inviting jealousy in this lover’s greedy eye,

When I always desired to be vaster pieces

Of wet clouds and you , the drenched sky .

There were oft’ times when we cried like

 Two silly babies In each other’s arms

To find answer in silent flow of tears

That dried up soon into new cheers.

Some moments of fights lasted longer

Through shouts and shrieks and cries

To an abrupt silence  at the end

After fights of exaggerated sighs.

However much we fought

It was always our secret desire inside

Not to hurt the other any real way

Love thus had  found a stabler stay;

After a rollercoaster ride across a stormy bay

A sprig of peace in the soul doth silently  sway.

Comp. n copy right : saroj k. padhi

04/11/14

WONDERLAND

Walking through the fields under a mellowing Winter Sun

And with pals, relishing raw grains  from black gram plants ,

Some green gram plants there from neighbour’s farms too

Forgetting all about time, cuts on foot, wounds and woe;

When company of friends mattered above everything else

Love spread like Rabi crops overlapping boundaries among  fields

Pleasing farmers’ hearts with promise of big yields in the dale

Peace lay in the woods and groves softening breeze in the vale;

You were a small fun, a cool region under the shade of woods

Offering fistfuls of dust, sand and mud to build a sweet home

Your kisses were boon and festivals offered lots of lovely foods.

Where are you now ? Where are you  my old flame ?

My  love of ancient games, old fountains and clean sand bed ?

 Build me that bower and beautiful  airy dome

Bring me back to wet me, whet me in your sweet, little home.

Comp. n copy right : saroj k. padhi

04/11/14

YELLOW   PROFESSOR

Here comes the venerable Professor of English

With his yellow notes on Linguistics

Clinched in his fists lest the spines should fall apart

Revealing the handwritten words of his old domestic archives—

The yellow moth-eaten notes  of  his college days

That collected enough dust during hide from Sun rays.

His August notes  deny existence of ‘Deconstruction’,

Defy  any new approach  or any new definition;

Because knowledge for him is ‘sacrosanct’ and ‘pure’

With a solid past ,static present and  thus a future, secure.

In the meanwhile many things have changed

Even words have assumed new meaning ;

But not the professor ‘s affectation

Or his faulty wide-mouthed pronunciation  --

Always the same quotes and exemplification ;

Firmly  laying Linguistics’ foundation

In heads of many an old and new generation;

Let’s salute him –our professor of English

Better with some archaic words of admiration !

Comp. n copy right : saroj k. padhi , 03/11/14

DEEP DOWN

Startled by my own foot steps

I look back to find your shadow mocking

my dreams shattered into shreds

on the floor of a wounded time bleeding ,

in the veins of those red flowers constantly

ravished by cruel hands of routine morning ;

the snake of my fear leaves the growing anthill

to stalk my failure and frighten me from the back,

of my  lone cement bench in the park

constantly reminding me of the lapses

in the fragile breath of my love in youth

that flew away like the dumb white herons

into the blank chest of an impotent sky

as I sit here brooding on this very big why;

when  the question grows heavy

 in the shrinking horizon of my eye

a  cool breeze moves from somewhere

with its soft, soothing and sympathizing sigh !

comp. n copy right : saroj k. padhi

03/11/14

WINGLESS

I sit here trying to feel each vibe

in the inner  most chamber ,

each flutter in the tip of feathers in fly;

fevers mounting  the crazy breeze

and dreams shedding colours in wet eye;

each turn of thoughts in fading flowers

each burn in bruised hearts of lone lovers ;

sensing shivers in  shy leaves;

sights that  this spirit delight,

and things this heart grieves;

not knowing since when

I have been measuring life

in terms of  new words and new lines

now that only for words my heart pines…

Where shall I go from here-- ?

from the key pad and the letters ?

from love’s  cool, blinding fetters ?

from the binds of the panoramic sky?

And  bonds of Earth’s inviolable shutters ?

Comp. n copy right : saroj k. padhi, 02/11/14

MISSING YOU

A drop from my eye plonks into the river water

To raise that song in the ripples- of “I miss you”

As  nights after nights roll on into the horizon

To fetch freshly  built images of a growing you;

You used  to say to  me, “ You, big liar!” and smiled

From the curves under lids and corners of lovely dimple,

Sucking in my whole being  deep inside their whirls

When I couldn’t know how the Sun set on your temple.

You held me softly then for such a long while in your arms

When stars vied for such love in the lap of a half moon,

The breeze untucked your pony tails, butterflies fanned you

In tune with songs from Nature’s lovely bower and  boon.

Now i know not why and how similar songs are sung

In new sprigs of trees, in changing nuances of breeze,

Echoing sound of insane hearts breathing quite long

And then melting into the words “ miss you” with ease.

Comp. n copy right : saroj k. padhi

02/11/14

UNNOTICED !

Who has time here for  shrinking sprigs and burning hearts?

For breaths’ bruised hours, love’s  festers and false starts?

For young  jasmines losing aroma in the dead of the night?

For children vulnerable, stricken with trauma and fright?

For unpublished stories of woeful wallows and wounds?

For  beats noble skipped and their dying ,dumb sounds?

For memories of nation lost under  moss of inertia?

For causes genuine trampled  under mass hysteria ?

Are we really happy here with ourselves tucked in cells?

Without time for issues real and ear for the last bells ??

Comp. n copy right : saroj k. padhi

01/11/14