Say you,
Local, provincial or national
Or international?
If local, the local people
Call it not
As have a coterie of their own,
If provincial,
The state academy has its own
Poet officials,
Office-bearers, members or recipients,
If national, who is take me there
From the provincial level?
So let it be,
I a poet of my own right,
Self-styled and self-published.
That you love me,Love me!Bobby,Bobby, say you,Say you, Bobby!
Who is? Who is it?Who is in the darkStanding afarAnd singing,Singing the song,The song of RamSo feebly, but lucidlyIn whispers?O, you, you, who, who you,You the singer,The singer of Rama,Who you singing,Singing the song,The song of RamaSo devotedly,So soulfullyAs a true devotee of Rama,Whispering and singing,Singing in a feeble voiceBut lucidlyAnd I hearing from far!Perhaps…
Post-modern,These are almost the same,The one who had been modern was modernistic,Turned post-modern in course of timeAnd post-modern to where?Only the literary stuffs bring not about the change.Modern age science and technology brought about,With the help of electrical, electronic and digital aids.
Oh, love is not love today,What a lover is he!
To fire,Yes to fire, fire on the Buddhas,The Bamiyan BuddhasIn Afghanstan.The men in the loose pyjamas and the shirtWith a turban around the head,Bearded and stout and hurly-burlyWith the mortars over their shouldersFiring on,Firing on the BuddhasAnd the Buddhas Buddhas, the statues of peaceCalm and quiet,In their own composure,Cliff-hewn, stone-chiselled, tall and heavy,Sculptured and cut…
And from her attitude she appears to be aggressiveAnd she has but coming into light and focusAs she has nothing to give but to resort toShouting, protesting and demonstrating.
