Tag Archives: Poetry

In the Rice Paddies

Posted on by
Reply

Up and down,

Up and down,

Bobbed the heads

And the backs as well.

They reaped in a row

In  paddies of rice,

Green – gold with mellowing.

Sun-baked were their skins;

Sun-ripened was the rice.

They swayed on their ankles

Buried in the muddy clay.

They swung their sickles,

Flashing the crescent blades 

And so many sickle moons

Gleamed in the morning sun

Upon the green blades of plants

And the gold ears of rice.

The scorched midriffs

Bent over the paddy

And swung with the rhythm

Of eternal reaping.

With each swing,

The sweat glistened

Down their spines,

Down their faces,

Down their brows –

The salt of the earth – it was

And it poured from the reapers

And became one with the earth.

 

 

Drums

Posted on by
2

The drums –

So incessant –

Beat a tattoo

On my tympanum.

The drums,

Keeping time,

Unleashed

A primitive rhythm –

A rhythm

Of life and death –

The heart beat

Of dee dum – dee dum

And the funeral roll 

Of dum – dum – dum –

As a child,

I trembled

To hear the drums.

I clung

To my father,

In silent terror.

The drums beat

Into my heart,

Accelerated it;

Every throb was

Beating like a drum

My heart , 

Now a drum

With  a taut skin,

Beat and beat

Incessantly.

A terror of

Primitive order

Of life and death,

That seeped through

The childish instincts,

Until the drums slowed,

Into gradual stop.

The terror was appeased

And the tremors eased.

 

 

 

Drums

Posted on by
Reply

The drums –

So incessant –

Beat a tattoo

On my tympanum.

The drums,

Keeping time,

Unleashed

A primitive rhythm –

A rhythm

Of life and death –

The heart beat

Of dee dum – dee dum

And the funeral roll 

Of dum – dum – dum –

As a child,

I trembled

To hear the drums.

I clung

To my father,

In silent terror.

The drums beat

Into my heart,

Accelerated it;

Every throb was

Beating like a drum

My heart , 

Now a drum

With  a taut skin,

Beat and beat

Incessantly.

A terror of

Primitive order

Of life and death,

That seeped through

The childish instincts,

Until the drums slowed,

Into gradual stop.

The terror was appeased

And the tremors eased.

 

 

 

Into the Silence of the Woods

Posted on by
2

Into the silence of the woods

I plunged when I veered

Into a narrow footpath 

Leading away to gloom.

Soon I found myself

Slowly enveloped

In a smothering quiet

That was strangely comforting.

As well as encumbering.

Something broke the silence.

Drip, drip – I heard water dropping

On withered leaves.

A gentle breeze woke

The slight murmur of leaves.

A squirrel scurried

Scattering leaves in its wake,

Making dry crunching noise.

Soft dry whispers came

From the slithering snake.

Dripping, chittering,

Murmuring and whispering,

The woods came alive.

The sounds were gentle,

But the pall of quiet was lifting.

Then a bird squawked, 

A rodent cheeped,

A tree branch cracked

And broke in no gentle tone,

And a deer went by pattering, scraping,

Clopping, thudding and echoing.

An eagle screeched above

And broke the rhythm of hooves.

Other noises followed in their wake.

It became a drama of silence

Treading the boards into cacophony.






 





 





 





 





 





 































					

		
		
	


				
					
	

		

						
Recapturing Youth

			
						

				Posted on   by  			

			
						

				2			

					


				

			
I was smothered in the warmth


Of cottonwool softness


when I cast my eyes


On the friend of my college days,


Anxiously waiting for me


In the shaded porch,


Under the bougainvillea covered roof.


After the passage of decades,


In the stillness of time,


We gazed into each other’s eyes.


Tossing formalities aside,


We hugged each other tightly


And felt the years shedding away;


We were back in the dorms,


Sharing a minute room,


Living the mundane days


Before the drowsy “Good Nights”.


In the mornings,


We rubbed the sleep away


From bleary eyes


And reluctantly got ready


For the prosaic lectures


In the boring lecture halls.


Years sped by


Without drama and fanfare,


But with youth’s resilience.


Thus it was in the present


To be caught in astonishment


In recapturing the joyful youth,


Undiminished in intensity


Despite the passage of time.


Remembered in clarity,


Our silver years rejuvenated;


We bowed our heads in muted ‘Thanks’..


 


 











					

		
		
	


				
					
	

		

						
Carol

			
						

				Posted on   by  			

			
						

				Reply			

					


				

			









On Christmas day she was born


And Carol she was.


She caroled into my life


And filled it with musical notes.


She filled life with melodies


And her happy notes filled my life.


Her golden locks wafted merrily


At anyone she came in touch:


Her children, her spouse,


Her friends, her students,


And anyone else 


Who wandered into her life.


Spreading her music,


She passed through our lives


Like a comet that streaked through,


Blazing its tail,


Never to forget.
					

		
		
	


				
					
	

				
					
	

		

						
Francy

			
						

				Posted on   by  			

			
						

				Reply			

					


				

			
When dragonflies hover


Above the pond algae,


Remembrance of one 


Who reached fame in the discovery


Of the rare one of those.


Francy was effervescent,


Full of joy in meeting people, 


Full of questions


About world politics to home fronts.


As a son, brother, husband,


Father, friend and colleague


He left his indelible mark


As someone whose joyful presence


Meant immortality.

					

		
		
	


				
					
	

		

						
Birthdays

			
						

				Posted on   by  			

			
						

				2			

					


				

			
Birthdays come and go


As we measure time in thimbles.


Is it wise to let time pass by?


Catch it by its forelock


And shout, “Carpe Diem!”


Our finite lives need


Some fulfillment.


Hold fast to time


And open up venues:


Improve, progress, develop


And, above all, 


Look right and look left


At all the surroundings,


At all seconds, minutes, and hours.


There the poor and the needy, 


The disenfranchised,


The old and the weak,


And the handicapped-


They reach for a helping hand,


For compassion and empathy!


Don’t let time pass


Without us reaching out


In time when Time passes by


And our fingers brush 


Only the bald patch in the back


While reaching to halt its passing.


Let us not waste time,


But deem it a boon


To reach out to tend and nurture


While embracing humanity.