What I would have to you,
To you, my daughter,
You too had expectation from me,
But I could not, could not
With my patriarchal mindset
Taking you as a debt to be disposed off
And this is what you expected from me
And this is what I gave to you and society.
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A darpiya, Indian daru taken
Counting the stars,Grumbling and fumbling,Abusing and shouting,Singing ansd talking.Indian daru and Indian darpiya, daru-drunkAnd having taken country liquor,Lies he fallen Mr.Darpiya,Into the bushes unable to stand,Under the open talking to the starsAnd sometimes near the drains.
You are beautiful,
Oh, my God,She is beautiful,Very beautiful,I said it to myself!
This but none
How mad have I after poetryThat like Midas running after gold touch,I too cannot see and feel the goodnessOf my small daughter,Calling me papa with so much so love and affection,Oh, a Midas I after poetryHave I turned into!
Do you love me? Do you love, love me? ,
Of her ownAnd stood I hearing her speechlesslyJust like turning stone,As what to say to, what not?Do you love me? Do you love me, say do you love me? ,I still hear the voiceAnd the heart feels it painIn remembering her, Oh, this lost love!
The Afrikaners,
Are,Are South AfricansAnd,And theirs is a heart,Heart tooWhich,Which burns itFor South Africa,AfricaO,O, hear you,Hear you,Come with an hear,Hear youThem,Them singing,Singing the song,Song of Africa,O,O, hear you the heartbeat,Heartbeat of theirsAnd say, say you after!
I shall not stay it here
To see it up,
But you will, my daughter,
As the daughter of mine
which but they know it not
Whose daughter are you not,
Your pains and pines and woes,
What it troubles you
And your self,
What it hurts and wounds you, my love!
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Love, love, love
All the time after the girl not good for the world.The malaria of love not good at all.Try to love her selflessly too.Take her to be your own and you her family member too.
Removal of The Gandhi Statue From The Ghana University Campus (A Poetic Drama)
Background is the scenery of the historical poetic drama opening with it, a mode to introduce to the audience, the readers giving a background of all that happened or to take place and in Background lies it Premonition, Nightmare as the latter is just a realization on the part of Gandhi. First, Background was put…
Monkeys,
Big and small, small and bigJumping,Sitting on the roads,Crossing byIn groups,Hanging onto rooftops,The branches of trees,Plucking fruits,Leaves,Asking for foodOr snatching from the handsIf seen with,Looking with awe, suspense,Ogling,Gnashing the teeth.
Chhau dance rustico-classical
In a masked formWith rhythmic dance, puppetry,Disguise, dialogue,Vault and music,Interesting indeed,Beautiful to seeBhagabati, Mahishashura,Ganesha, Kartikeya,Demons and the lion.
Oneiric Visions, The Audible Landscape,
Shadows In Floodlights, Feeling Fossils,Representing his poetic corpus,Telling of his creativity.Poetry as wit, irony and intellect,The fact and fiction of life,Thought-contents, bare life-experiences,The fossils of thought and feeling,The making and unmaking of sand dunes.Nothing more to do with feeling and emotion,Poetic sensibility and sentimentality not to wet,Human intellect at work, blending fact and fiction,Social realities…
Small, small glow worms
A tiny creatureOf the marshland, the moist places,Hovering aroundAnd lighting the panorama,Glittering and glowing like stars,Twinkling starsSo full of mysteries and twinklesLighting strangelyAs fire lamps.
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Do not be sad,
I do not want to see you
In tears,
My daughter,
Small daughter.
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Burning the midnight oil
Paradise Lost, Paradise Regained,A poet with a massive planFor a literary workOf a vast cosmology,Epical and classical,Profound and elegant,Latinized and sublime.The Temptation and the Fall of ManFrom Paradise lured him mostTelling of the Primeval Sin of ManWhich led for his Fall from Heaven,A rebel or a religious fellow,Who was he?
Nomad, where your your home,
Who to be with,What your own,What not,Nomad?I see youOn the platform,At the bus stop,Into the lanesAsking for alms,Gong with!Nomad,Nomad,Where your home,What your identity,Where your landYou belong to,What your purpose of life?Into the strong sun,Under the starlightFacing the hot sun,The colder nightsLie you,Lie you under the trees,On the platforms,At the bus stopsLiving your life!Nomad,Nomad,Your daughters and…
Gandhi in my
And I going pastThe image hangingOver,Overlooking us.I moving aheadBut the trail of Gandhi imagesLeaving me not behind,Intercepting me on the wayAs if someone were calling meFrom behind,Letting me not go.And I feeling it awkward,Finding nowhere to go,Clueless and waylessAs for where to go,Where notIn such a fixAnd something overtaking meAnd I feeling nonplussed.Gandhi and Gandhism,Gandhian…
Who are you, sir? May I now your identity please?
What is that to you?Dear sir, may I take the trouble of knowingYour kind entity and identity?Of course, of course, you know me in full,Who hides from,May depute some private spies,Constitute the fact-finding mission! ,Said the man seated on the platform benches.Sir, it’s fine that you are here,But one thing I dare not say to…
In how many boats how many times? ,
Drifted toIn search,Search of light,Light dazzlingHas he turned,Turned to lightShaky and tremblingAs faith is?Into how many boats how many times? ,Has he drifted to,Drifted far,Coming closer,Going far to,Crossing over,Seeing the people ofDifferent cults, climes and sectsAnd costumesBut with the same mind,Same heart?But the difference lay itIn the way of thinking,MaterialismAnd materialistic valuesEngaging the mindscape,Keeping engaged…
Just a leg,
Red-colour water paintedSideways of the footAnd ankletted in white silverI can seeAs art and artifactConsoling me.Just the foot,The dark black legAnklettetd,Sideways-colouredGlistening,The art and artifact,The replicaMy thing of consolation.