and never could I think it,
Feel it,
Take to myself
That I would,
I would fall in love
With you,
You
And after falling in,
Falling in love
With you,
Started I loving you,
Loving you so deeply,
Deeply and madly.
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Dilip Chitre’s house
And he thinking aboutBefore being shifted toFrom Baroda to Bombay.The house being removed,The huge tree being cut,Birds flying away,He saw it allAs a mute spectator.
They too know it that it is a poet’s house,
The frogs, lizards, bats, owls, pythons, jackals, wild cats, orioles,Hedgehogs, water birds,How dear my house is to them!The frogs, three types of, commonly found grey frogs,Sometimes coming as a big jumperThe greenish well or tank living frogsAnd the rarely found plastic-coloured strange tree-climbing frogs,Moving upwards,If on your shirt, it will not like to go away…
I am waiting for my Burquawalli
To bid her welcomeAnd to gift a wild jasmineTo her,Blooming under the nightly skiesAnd to impress a sweet kissOn the cheeks of hers.
Keshav has something of an artist
And was tooAnd so is his poetry,With the echoes of modern art.A formerly editor of Indian Literature from Sahitya AkademiAnd the literary editor of Thought,He has authored quite a fewTo register his presence, to make it feelInto the domain of modern Indian English poetry.The Lake Surface and Other Poems, Rippled Shadow,Poems C, Negatives, Shapes in…
I do not know where is it,
You say it please?