How to bust it?
Kali
The Dark Goddess
With the tongue out
Of the mouth.
In Anger Divine
With traditional weapons
Into Her four hands
Wearing a garland of heads.
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The communists are not the easy fellows to be dispensed with
Keeping areas under strict supervision and vigil,Who comes from where, who goes where,Deputing men and women,Putting on an espionage missionAs for the domestic purposes,Blood-thirsty, power-hungry,With the hands on the trigger,Ready to wage a war on the democrats,Yea, the muscle-flexing comrades and cadres,The power men dealing with power,May give life, may take lifeAs for power-keeping,Keeping the…
Bapu, Bapuji
The Father of the Nation,Indian nationMohandas Karamchand Gandhi,Bapu, Bapuji.
Time’s Haunted House is the house of mine
Temporarily, for the time beingIn Time’s Haunted House mansionWhich will but delapidate it somedayMy patriarchal houseAfter my departure.
I do not smoke
Their cigarsMake me smoke,The trails of smokeTwirling up above,The cigar held in betweenThe fingers,Puffed with style,Embers blazing,Ashes shaken off.On seeing themI too want to smoke,Smoke a cigar.
A musician, a singer, a song-writer,
A guitarist,A pop star, a rock starIn the hatAnd with a cigarTelling the tale of change.
The girl is very beautiful,
A love lyric,A love song, a sad song,A sketch or a reflection,A dream is she,A flower in flesh and blood,Sensuous and sensual.A story or an image,A painting or a photograph,If paint you her,Picture you,Snap the photo of hers,She may turn intoAn album of photographs,A dairy full of her word-pictures,Her talks and images,Like you, but see…
Mythical and mystical
With the tongue held out
Of the lips
Wearing a wreath of the heads
Of demons and devils
Slain in the battle against
And with the snake
And conventional weapons
Into her four hands
And the fox too with,
But Shiva to quell her anger
Lying fallen on her way
And she with her one leg
Over his body
Feeling ashamed of
What she in anger.
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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.
Jagannath, Balabhadra and Subhadra
The chariot wheel,The rathyatra,The wooden idolsOn an outingTo the see the worldAround.To read Jayanta is to be reminded ofLord Jagannath, Balabhadra and SubhadraAnd their journeysAnd viewing of the worldFrom the chariot,The ratha spinning,Rotating and doing a roundOf the mundane world.
Whatever say you,
Poetry is a dead art,A postmortem of emotion and feeling.What can poetry give toBarring thought and idea?Can it life-saving drugs?
The glare of the eyes
ThatIt wasA wild catBushy, wooded and grizzled,Peculiarly grey brown,Speckled and freckledUtmostAnd tamelessly swiftBefore it is stopped.
Valentine’s day
With a bouquet of red roses.