The school of maya.
Maya my wife,
My children,
House and the world.
Maya my life,
My family,
My world
And I a small man
From the world of maya.
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Is of religious leanings and fundamentalist affiliations
And the rights guaranteed inRather than a human rightist, a civil rightist,A humanitarian.
I see the Naga sadhus
And feel about their journeyFrom Nagaland to Prayag.
Is poetry dying,
Almost dead,If not,What can it give to mankindBarring sentimentalism?Is poetry a dying art,Is poetry dying,If not what can it to mankindRather than sentiment and emotion?
Those who have written a bit they are moving to foreign
Guiding researches in India,Getting awards and prizes from the Govt.,The media covering themAnd after having countless papers and poems,I am still in the bracket ofAnd they do not know me,How can it be, sir,You say it please,Is it as I am in countryside?
Is a travel dairy, a tour diary
Telling about the people and places,Party, politics and power equations,To Nicaragua in the midst of the SandinistasAnd the Contras backed by the two blocks,A travelogue on Nicaragua.
Why to eye,
The wife of other man,Alauddin?You already know itThat she is the queenOf Ratansen.And instead of thatKeep youEyeing her.Why,Why will it be,Alauddin?
Writing black poetry.
Singing
The song of America
Looking through the Negro eyes.
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Who the manager,
The script-waiter,The dramtis personae,How the costume and dressingAnd make-up menAnd the theatres,How lighting and photography,I think I have already said it to you.
The idols of Ganesha
Small-small idolsThe gypsy boys and girlsSelling,Small-small poor gypsy boys and girlsSmall-small Ganeshas.
Modern poetry is but of modem man and the modern world
Had the connecting bridges and roadways been not,Could they have been modern,Had the radio, the watch, the cycle,The bus, the train, the tram been not,Had the school, the college, the pen and paper been not,Could you have been modern?Had medicines been not, could you have been?Typhoid, malaria, tuberculosis, small pox would haveFinished it all, what…
Black, black palanquin-bearers
And with the red lipsTaking the palanquin awayOver their shouldersAnd the small countrified bride,Girl bride sitting overInto the ghumtaGoing to an unknown destinationAnd the carriers singing,Singing the songTo lessen the journey of the wayAnd fatigue,Black, black palanquin-bearersWith the small daughterAs the child brideGoing her in-laws’ house.With the small wooden doli,Palalquin over the shouldersThe bearers bearing…
None but I myself tore it, the jeans pants
Stitches and jointsTo make it look like the faded jeans.The colour faded it not,But we made it look soAs for becoming, tired of modernity, ultra-modernAnd hence looking for a way outAnd as a result of that,The face looks wrinkled even in spiral days,The young girl looks oldAnd the old looks young.Where have we come to,Where…
I could not believe,
That,That my son,SonWouldEnd,End upAs,As an addict.Heavens fellDown over,I lying,Lying desperate,Exasperated,Devastated and ruinedSeeing the waste-land imagery,Trying to reconstruct and resurrect.
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Anything I think fit.
As of now
And as I said before
If the situation requires
To write
I am prepared and
Ready to write.
With poetry
I care not anybody.
Yes, I do feel good
With poetry and as always
I say men stay happy.
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Illicit connection
Result –Loss of allGood qualities.Neglect of mother,And mother language –Result –All destructionAnd death.No quarrel,No hypocrisy,Life is but a HighwayGo straight on it.
For me
You opened up.And we call youFor ourSafety andSecurity.You travelled to usWith many coloursAnd sights.And we put ourselvesIn troubles withNasty worksDay and nights.You delighted usAnd we care not.We make nothingAnd yet we saidEverything here is ours!
Am I a lover?
Who am I toPut such questions?I call each oneBut receive no answer.I warn each oneStay cautious.The world is reallyVery dangerous.What more I can sayI know not andAt every moment IAttend each farewell.
Make it all simple –
The relationship,And everything.It is all freedom,It is all sunshine,It is all butterflies,It is all music.See bothInner and outer, dear.The life is wonder,So also the poetry.
True to say
Nothing.And knowing this truthI stayed always here.And staying hereI knew all factWith no delusion.
Here it is
Something very nice.Anger is thereWith the fools.Intelligent oneKnows angerAs poison.Set timeAt your sweet will, dear.Life is waitingFor you.Let is all sweetAnd it is the truth.
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And fearful of
Material existence.
As a poet
I fear the dark,
Everything is there
In the dark, though.
As a poet
I know life
And very value.
As a poet,
I love all
And I know the truth.
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A few people
Truth conscious.But knowing truthIn the truthIs not easy, alsoIt is not difficult.But men, you have no need toAct for personalSense gratification.Men, you have toStay detached fromBoth pious and impious activitiesAnd stay relieved from all reactions.
Wait for a minute,
Life at this time.Let me stay aloneAnd count secondsIn your heartbeats.Life steps arightAnd let me enlightenAll and all nights.All roots go toNights and in darkDeep flight height.
Each one is struggling to live,
Give water,Give shelter,And make them freeFrom hunger, thirst,Fatigue, moroseness, distress,Lamentation and illusion.And my dear, remember,I have personally no interestTo take any benefitFrom you or from anyone here.I know the sun,I also know the truth.
Kosli;
ଅଛେଁ ଆରୁ ନେଇଁ ନ ବି।କହେଲ ତମେ ଆରୁ କଲିଁ ମୁଇଁ ହଁ ହଁ।ମରବାର ଆରୁ ବଁଚବାର ଭିତରେ ଅଛେ ଫରକ ନେଇଁ ପାରେଁ କହି।ଯିବାର ଆରୁ ଫିରବାରଟା କାଣା!Odia;ଅଛି ମୁଁଅଛି ଆଉ ନାଇଁ ବି।ତୁମେ କହିଲ ଆଉ ମୁଁ କଲି ହଁ ହଁ।କହି ପାରୁ ନି ମରିବା ଆଉ ବଂଚିବା ଭିତରର ତଫାତ୍ ।ଯିବା ଆଉ ଫେରିବା, କଣ ଏଇଟା!English;Yes I am hereHere I am and I am not.You told and…
Catch not the dog’s tail,
You should seekThe shelter of truthAnd live fearlessly.Danger is thereAt every step, no doubt.But you are not a fool,I think, and you can crossEvery hurdle here easily.No protection needed,I know, you are alsoAn aquatic and youKnow also airways.
ସତ କଥା କହେ କିଏ
ଜାଣେ ନା,ଜାଣନ୍ତି ବା କେମିତି?ତିନି ଚାରି ରଙ୍ଗରଗୋଳିଆଘଣ୍ଟାରେଅସଲଟା ଯାଇ ରହୁଛିଆଉ କୋଉଠି।କିଏ କହୁଛି କଣଠିକଠିକଣା ନାଇଁକିଛି କଥାର।ଜୀବନ ଚାଲିଛିନିଜ ବାଟରେଅନେକ ଧାର କରି କରି ।ପୁଣି ପୁଣି ଉବୁଡାପଡିକହୁଛି ଅନେକ ଶବ୍ଦରେଅନେକ ଭାଷାରେ ଯାହାରନାହିଁ ଆଦିଅନ୍ତ।ମେଘ ଭର୍ତ୍ତି ଆକାଶରେକେତେ ଘଟଣା ଶୂନ୍ଯରେ।ତପୋବନ, ଟିଟିଲାଗଡ, ବଲାଙ୍ଗିର23/10/2019