PadmaShree, Sri Jayanta Mahapatra once said,"There is something in me that refuses to die. It’s there, somewhere deep inside me perhaps. And this is poetry."
The genesis of POETICbug was thus an act of unleashing the curbed thoughts in the form of poems. POETICbug,says, "I praise; I dare; I invoke care; You write, recite my glory; I am, Poetry."
-Taking forward the spirit of poetry !
Today -
What do I eat?
In such sorry state of defeat,
When that which cooks in my kitchen,
Not just feeds,
But draws the crowd, indeed,
Shrouded by a herd believe,
No reason, No discussion,
Who promote,
It’s fine to take an eye for an eye,
And preach that is divine.
Today -
How do I walk?
With a regressive thought
In a progressive mind,
And go digital, worldwide,
While by-lanes of reality
Portray barbarism, a difficult sight.
Today -
What should I speak?
When a word to express,
Could be the reason to decease,
With intolerance raging wild
Freedom sits uptight.
Today -
I am the silent, confused spectator
Tomorrow -
I could be the mourning victim.
This poem is published in Contemporary Vibes - Jan - Mar Issue 2016.
Poses, pouts and random looks,
Lighting, shades and a million hues,
Modes, effects; all settings on,
I am ready for the click,
Go selfie, go on.
So engrossed already in self,
Like brimming with obsessiveness,
Add to that a selfie dear,
I am all too virtual,
My poses check list is clear.
“Could you click a photo please?”
“Oh! Sure, why not! Say cheese.”
These smiling small talks,
Sound so rare to the ears,
Like one of the many endangered words.
Perfection, satisfaction is a selfie,
Interaction, humane is that ~
What is not called a selfie !
Please Note - The irony is even I take selfies. :)
I held the 2 by 2 inch cloth in front of me, Just like David stood triumphant over Goliath, It blocked the glaring Sun, teasing my eyes,
We may be in harrowing times so often in life,
The hunch of fear on our back,
Pulling us down on the knees,
We hope for a saviour in hapless surroundings,
And forget there is a David in all of us,
Holding the 2 by 2 inch cloth,
To block the Sun and fight the belligerent Goliath.
As I watch the world,
From my room today,
I see a tiny shoe under ashes,
A blackboard dripping blood,
I hear cries, loud and deafening,
Pristine souls preyed upon,
What I see the most is?
Morality, stripped naked,
While cowardice smirks us all,
This day is evidence of,
When “Shame” as an epitaph
is written on humanity’s tomb.
Every day there is;
A coffin buried,
A pyre on fire,
But if this is an offering to pseudo faith,
Then the coffin is heavier,
And the fire rages higher,
Now cruelty musters up,
Hope stands helpless,
We, the common, need to hold together,
Beyond numerous barriers,
To protect the lives of many
and memories of the dead.
