Another poem~

The bolt bangs in

    The list read aloud

           Name mounted in number#22 

like files on government tables...

        makes my guts queasy

                  The burning begins....

The rays from the gold-orb

              cracking through

    the gobbets of puffy clouds

          waft into the room

                  claw at my face

          Licking dry lips 

    I try to absorb

     the splendor of the lounge

             and drift slowly, dreaming

Waiting to be interviewed is a

             test by itself...

The room settles like a shroud 

              air stiff and still....

  With century passing with every second

                   ...the muse blazes- it is the light! 

   I shut my eyes and try to think
          "What do I want to become?"
'O, does it matter what I want....
....fate will be the one to decide in the end.'
My fingers sweep over my tab
   itchy fingers do their web-dance
            I let them waltz...
   And there! Another poetry
    for panchalibolchi!

 
 You can either succumb to the fear or be nervous during an interview, or you can channel that fear and convert it into something motivational.. Well, sometimes I write out of internal necessity...:)

Linked with:  http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.in/2014/10/poetry-pantry-223.html 

Gulmohar From My Window~

The Gulmohar Tree

I look out over the balcony

The flamboyant Gulmohar flowers

       draped in splitting sunrise

         come flying like missiles 

              ...dab 'feast-of-color' in my eyes

  I skip down the stairs

         run up to the majestic tree

               …and lower myself under it

Staring at it... I pluck a fiery bloom

   the flower feels rubbery against my skin

         …the loveliest scent intoxicates me

The sun is ablaze...prickly;

    Yet, it gives me succor 

         even in the scorching heat

Rays start raining in chunks on the ground

       Shift my eyes on the blooms of the path

                Petals flutter  …

           a tremble this minute..

    And then….it’s all still

         My mind halts…

                         one more time

       Divine grace --- what splendor!

                       …..I edge away drunk

      With flame-dance on my head...

                            

Anybody who visits Delhi during summer days will momentarily get blinded by these flamboyant Gulmohar-blooms revealing their astonishing palette of greens and reds...

Linked with : http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.in/2014/10/poets-united-midweek-motif-trees.html

Belief~

as the earth goes round

amid drift of reeling things

predictable life

Linked with:

http://corazon.typepad.com/recuerda_mi_corazon/2014/09/haiku-my-heart-believe.html

Denouement~

Paintings on the sky

beneath the sun's sparkles

ever on the run..

In the territory of clouds

the gulls and pigeons

with effortless zeal

tumble frantically in the air,

sort themselves into V formation

....sparkle, glow and fade

streaking across the blue sky

Is this the candid sky

with all its bounty?

Time is...

when I watch

...the glistening, sequined drizzle

lynched by the birds

drop chanting in unison-

     'dip  dip  dip'

soaking the dry yellow grass

         and the red gravel

aah, I sniff for a whiff

        of the intoxicating wet earth

            of the green scent of freshness

     And suddenly,

          the time loses

              the sense of continuum...

I realize,

     the sky inside of me is neither

half-

     way

           down

nor

        up ahead

                       in the spirit

       of the undulating sky

      I do sky-ride thru'out the day

                 on its back

             It trucks me to

                Where I'd like to be...

My heart loves to leap

       like the wings of the squall

to allay my thirst.

PS--It’s an exploration within consciousness….It is like indulging in the thoughts and questions that touch that deep sense of mystery and awe, …that sparks curiosity.

Hello! I am back, after an extended blog break. Writing is hard. Getting back into writing is really, really hard.   

Linked with : http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.in/2014/10/poets-united-midweek-motif-exploring.html