Time : Poetry of a time that won't reappear

-

Time


I want to go back this while 

Reverse the staircase of time,

To Meet a little girl

Playing in the corridor 

With her toothless smile.

I want to meet the girl

Who was fearless at heart;

Without knowing that she was.

She cared for all, and she was free,

Once made her friend a wanton bee.



I want to sit in the 

Last chamber of the car,

Crack some jokes, 

With no tension in heart.

No grades to chase

Laughing at own’s mistakes

I want to be the ‘Silly’ girl

Who always helped.



I miss those days ol’en,

When I with my frien’

Hid at the backyard lane

Where no one ever went. 

We discovered there 

A secret chamber;

High schol boys 

Drank cranberry beer.

Catching us peeping 

They got scared. 

Alas! From next day on, 

The teenagers vanished in air.



Nights were peaceful

When sister by my side,

Gazed to the neighbors 

On rainy nights. 

‘Please pass on the soup’—

Asked the old lady at dinner,

A voice I still can ringingly hear.

Bitterest tears welled up my eyes;

We parted after vacay time;

The departing train whistled good-bye!



The clock ticks with the closing of eyes,

Thinking of it, I breathe relief, a sigh. 

Through the colossal legs of my father;

I am going straight up in air.

His fists clutching my arms,

Swinging me to and fro, holding firm.

Like a pendulum I went up and down,

We played the game no less four rounds. 


Outside my eyes now it is blur.

It rains; memories 

from the land too far, is

The balm of my fevered heart.

I want to go back this while,

Reverse the stair case of time,

To touch the golden days of life;

The sweetest retreat of mine. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Nights— Because Dark is beautiful....

-
Image
 The Nights ( In frame: Starry Nights by Van Gough ; 1889) Appreciate the nights As death approaches And peacefully pacifies  The billionaire’s un-ending cry For more. The man who just wants More of a body, more of bodice And more bodies And the men shamelessly Cry : 'a pervert'! Gets a comfortable sleep Into the bosom of his cocotte— A keeper, thirsty of love, Hopefully dies with  Twinkles in her eyes Love shall come—be patient. The night is dark The sky jaded with diamonds Hides the vulgar And leaves to observe What is meant to see’!   2nd Dec, Kol, 1:32 am  Starry Nights In strings Listen here— https://youtu.be/PQa-L7BMFI8
Read more

Is there No one?: Poetry of loneliness, love and a perpetual longing❤️🌿 by Souraseni B

-
Image
Is There No One? In frame: Solitude by Daler Usmonov ( 2015) Is there no one whose lookin' for a friend? Is there no one, seeking a hand? Is there no one whose lookin' for a lover ? Is there no one, seeking a heart? Is there no one whose looking for me? Is there no one, for me? Walking down the street, I see faces-- Looking down and seeing a thing. They, all are alike,with neat collars, ironed and tight. Yet  so cold, that I couldn't believe They are keeping alive. They don't look at each other, They don't say me a 'hi'-- Alone...alone ...all alone I weep at the corner, meanwhile! Is there no one who will once look up? Is there no one who'll once see me? Is there no one who will end my wait? Because, dear, with you I want to be 'we'! I promise you, to build a home at the hills, And at the brook we'll let go one paperboat. We will drink water and walk slow-- But darling, tell me first, where to find you? I promise to reach you my w...
Read more