Tuesday, September 28, 2010

LOVE

amar sokol rosher dhara
tomatey aj hok na hara

jibon jurey laguk porosh
bhubono byepe jaguk horosh

tomaro rupe moruk dube
amaro duti ankhi tara
amar sokol rosher dhara
tomate aj hok na hara



Drowning among the waves of Your glory
i visualise
the ocean of mercy,forgiveness
and the touch of kindness
that shall heal me
conceal me
from the world of distrustful images.
i wear the crown of thorns
and bleed today.But
its Your gentle whisper
that tells me You are there
You have been there always
for me,with roses of love
and care and priceless mercy.

my love is incomplete,insecure
and haphazard,i have newly fallen
in love with Your beauty,Your grace
and do not know how to praise You.
my eyes drown in the muck of
civilisation and frustrations
and i perceive while i drown
that You have loved me all along
and i had not known ...
i had not known.

Had i been a lotus,a blooming bud
i would have risen from the mud
and given myself to You
and loved You silently with my fragrance.
my purity would have decorated Your
toes and i know, i know, i know
You would have touched me with love
mercy, care and kindness.

You have been mine and i was Yours
all along
You have been with me
like a shadow,
protecting me from all harm,
all along.
You have loved me like a babe,
all along.
I hadnt known Your beautiful love
all along.
And i thought i have loved You
all alone.

Monday, September 27, 2010

bake a cake

whip me fine
with butter and eggs
and milk
of human kind-ness
and add some
sugar of sultry techniques
and flavour
of charmed existence.
put me into
the mould of
a button
a bowl
a cup
or a tumbler
and stuff me with
cherries of
forgetfulness.
shove me into
the oven of scorching
heat called life
and absurdity
and i emerge
through time
endless
and
burnt, or baked
your cake
of delight
and seduction

stanzas

tell me how
to play
the game
of
bricks and stones
words and sounds
shouts and screams
or silence.

teach me how
to tell
a story
of
cocks and bulls
and marriage
games.

tell me how
to dream
and cry
eat hotpotch
of
red fantasies
and fade-outs.

teach me how
to fry
a fish
and
make a wish
that its babies
must stay alive.

tell me how
to light
a candle
and wander lonely
as a ghost
or a soul
offended.

tell me how
to write
a poem
when voices
scream
in my head
and people
cry their lungs
out for some
unjustified deaths.

teach me how
to stop crying
and writing
stuff
colonial english
and personal
perseverences
in
dark dusk light.

tell me how
to shut up
and listen
to silent voices
of dessention
and kick
the dust
and
kiss the dirt.

teach me how
to dance
and sing
and blow
horns
and pipes
tambourines
and wait
for
death
to come.