Guwahati,

Poetry

POETRY

 This is Me

Shaheen Akhtar
 
 
I wish to sit near a river side,
And watch the ripples in the water.
I wish to explore the deep woods,
And inhale the foggy breeze.
I wish to sit amidst the paddy fields,
And celebrate the countryside's hue.
I wish to spend time in total solitude,
And loose myself in Nature's lust.
I wish to lie on the soft grass,
And observe the moonlit night.
I wish to get drenched,
And feel the rain in my soul.
I wish to belong to a community
Where I am an anonymous being;
A wanderer from no man's land.
 
..........................................................................
Asphyxiation
Swapnajyoti Bordoloi

I know not which light
To pray, to enlighten 
My smoke-filled path...
Surrender to ease 
My pain inside;
A chained desperate heart 
In a dark iron cell,
Forever perhaps destined
To never keep his soul alongside...
Live never, 
And yet always pretend;
I cannot utter a word
But except my failing words 
Jotted down hastily...
Carcinogenic madness 
Slowly eating me within,
I am lost...
My voice dumb...
A body almost numb,
I know not for how long
I still have to carry the
Burden of my weary breaths...
Drag my lifeless shadow 
In this mortal world of scorn, betrayal,
Abuse and pain...
All else besides,
With brains often 
More adept 
In hurting to gain,
This living world of yours
Each passing sunset,
An airless habitat,
I only grow less fonder
To reside!
I am willing you see... 
Would be only happy to say goodbye!!
 
.................................................................
 
Shore bird
Swapnajyoti Bordoloi

The lesser love you have,
The more you value it;
God made us feel 
And emote thus;
Thy heart may be burdened,
The soul forever searching
To drink what little love 
It could to be free...
An illusion until infinity!
 
On the shores of a river 
Called time,
My soul is naked otherwise
Without the poesy 
I wear each day to my heart, 
Patiently tailor-made by your love 
In all serenity!!
 
.................................................................
Two village girls
Buddhadev Nandi
 
 
Two village maidens, 
one twelve and other fourteen,
Come out of their shabby huts 
To have a pleasant outing.
A mild breeze flowing from the south,
Entices them to plunge into the meadows beyond the street.
Prancing like two colts,
they while away in the green;
Now they are on their way home as the sun is setting.
After a long walk they are hastening with trudging feet;
They must return to their huts before darkness cloaks their hamlet.
 
They cross the old banyan tree 
Which outstretches its strong branches;
From which they often dream of 
swinging with their playmates.
Little do they think 
what danger is lurking in the bush near?
A pack of prowling wolves 
Pounces upon them with claws bare.
They drag their coveted preys 
With barbaric rage;
And mutilate their bodies 
And souls to meet their wild craze.
Now the two little girls 
May have fulfilled their dreams;
They are swinging from the tree 
With nooses around their necks hanging.