S Harshavardhana, Untitled, Mixed Media on Canvas, 2023, Courtesy of Art Alive Gallery
.jpg)
A Drop of Tear
Thousands of rivers add incessantly to your ocean.
The unbearable fraught makes you stumble.
Thenceforth, I break those Hippocratic walls of resilience
and exude from the crevice;
humidifying the closet of those deep clandestine eyes
that veil boundless enigma.
I rolled down the cheeks,
discerned and resuscitated gently, only by a loving heart.
Darkness fades and I catechize: Am I a toxin?
I know not!
Yet, I am placated as your soul turns sunnier.
Merrily, I kiss the ground and vanish unseen in the thin air.
Full Moon
I scurried down a knoll, the heavens dyed in sinister,
a dim silver illumination proliferated akin deluge.
I sighed, it tagged along as I tapped the plain;
journey assuaged through the exigent terrain.
Appalled, I froze, a ghastly ophidian unearthed;
an owl hooted; the foe ebbed in a tenebrous cave afar.
The celestial radiance; startling whoop in obscurity;
are but reminiscent of loving souls in the Hadean times.
Remnants are the distant stars,
brilliant in the firmament as they glisten and
transpire spotless; unlike the full moon;
dangling over my dwelling place.
A Ragman
Dressed in tatters; bedizened; he sauntered
across doors on the street and every slender trail.
He hauled a scepter in his hand, sack on his cranium,
decrepit structure, clammy temple and scorched lips.
A lurid echo of lassitude!
Sun ablaze; terra firma afire;
he rummaged for dapple stains; yearning souls to exonerate
filth sullying their dwelling; at a price!
Withal, exasperated intonation of procrastination
and multiple affronts smacked his tympanum!
Botched; he strode with shoulders that subjugated to gravity.
The ragman besought, but the mounding scraps outside;
bizarrely; myriad souls encompass hulking putrefied junk within!
The Toddler
I perched by the pond, camaraderie of panorama,
pestered by a joyful toddler, clad in raggedy,
loping in venery of an alluring butterfly,
fluttering amid a faction of periwinkles.
Its eyes exuded arcane zing as it capered;
It tried to clasp; missed; gaped at its mother pryingly.
Ensconced on a pew, her eyes looked somnolent,
she had endured writhe to ensure her cherub’s not hungry.
Smile clenched; it chuckled playfully peeping at her,
The lady ostensibly pretermitted her penury.
“Aye, aye!” The sweetest of the voice crammed the air; insipid
silhouette of the city and the multihued skyline encapsulated its eyes.
It scurried on its four legs in blithe to her mom;
who embraced and showered a thousand kisses;
manifesting the clout of altruistic love over human affliction;
a verity; innominate to copious leaders!
The urn leisurely tinted crimson by the dousing ball of fire;
shadows transpired pallid;
the lady grasped her tot and sauntered out of sight;
The ambience turned murky!
Unknown…
My heart is sinking and my eyes are wet,
I won’t see you for a while my love, your purpose is set.
I feel a bit frightened, I feel so insecure,
I hope you don’t forget me, I want to be sure.
I suffer now from the fear of the unknown,
I don’t know how you would see me when the time had grown.
The mere thought of losing you grieves my soul,
You, my love, are my life’s definitive goal.
I want to live my life in these moments with you,
I want to hear a promise that you will be mine forever too.
You gave a purpose to my life when I wandered waywardly wasting my all,
I am what I am on this day because of your love that forever stood tall.
Seems our love shall now be tested by the grueling fires of time,
I hope we surpass everything and hear the church bells chime.
Go my love; get hold of the gold that lies in your way,
Look back and you will find me right there waiting for you with open arms as today.
These poems were part of The Poetry Issue 2023, curated by Shireen Quadri. © The Punch Magazine. No part of these should be reproduced anywhere without the prior permission of The Punch Magazine.
Comments
*Comments will be moderated