Guwahati,

Poetry

POETRY

 Learner

Robin S Ngangom
 
A pup coming out on the road the first time
High on adrenaline and psychotropic substances.
My little daughter only said
Remember the left pedal's the clutch
The middle one the brakes.
After you've found your hands and legs and head
Can do a little jig together
Always let old women and the cows cross first,
Don't let the boys riding on a two-legged thanatos or 
Taxi drivers blasting away rock while abusing lanes
Drive you into murderous rage, and above all
Always expect the unexpected 
Like the nutcrackers materialising without
Any white warning on a road you think is buttery.
The road was not built by your father. 
 
......................
Black & White
Arindam Barooah
Two different hues.
Two different percipience.
Former being Dark, Dreary,
Pure, serene as latter.
You today live in a world of all black & white,
Where your outlook, your resentment, your vehemence
Hiding amongst shades of grey
Is ruling the roost.
Thus world seems rough.
Fly away your cold soul,
To break the black & white.
 
................................
Out of Nothing
Swapnajyoti Bordoloi
 
Dew drops gleefully 
Dancing on the Dubori Bon...
Locked frozen lips in time, 
Heaving...
Panting to reach the finish line...
Another twist,
One more thrust... 
And a Shangri-La tale!
Come winter...
Make my soul love her 
More each empty night...
Roast my heart with the 
Wooden logs,
Silently burning on the 
Other side of my half-filled glass...
When it's just me and her,
And the jealous Gods 
Above with the new 
Born moon;
They say,
"The blood of a 
Wounded lover is a 
Hundred times 
More heavier than 
A gallon of the most 
Intoxicating wine drank 
Without a single break;
Sometimes invisibility is 
More alive than 
The flesh and sweat 
Coming from naked midnight bodies, 
Shamelessly locked without a fear; 
Surprisingly no more 
Any blame game!!"
 
.....................
Saint Edmund's College
Robin S Ngangom
 
 
To Basu, gardener, who marijuana kept alive
To an Irish Brother, shipwrecked in a hill-station
Facta Non Verba Grafted at fifteen
On Lum Mawrie hill One winter I burnt
Pine needles, cones, branches
On its sepia slope Avoiding fetes,
Fiercely intelligent classmates
But lusting the nymphs
Who came to smoke in the forest
Or watching movies In the school hall
While the principal smirked
At demurely horrified Loreto convent girls
During a naked scene.
I avoided the German shepherds Of the principal
Lurked in the corridors Severed nude Greek goddesses
Inside the library of gravitas
Took my turn at graffiti On the toilet wall
The future is in your hands
Shake well after use, If you shake it more than once
You're playing with it,
They said.
At economics class
Adam Smith, the father himself, Hawked and spat
And asked me if I didn't sleep the night before
While the brother who taught chemistry
Advised a classmate to take a formula on faith
When he failed to grasp it.
The geography teacher
During his frothy lecture on African rivers asked
Why my friend laughed like a crocodile.
On many fluid days
I inhabited parallel worlds
Of tailors and boarding houses
Of barbers and books Of hostel and bar,