O’ gorgeous,
O’ lacklustre!
The mirror inside the iron jar smiles
seeing you,
Captivates the tiny fragrance of ageing identity in you
What have the ‘hells’ taught, what the
‘havens’ have sprinkled?
Can you see the tiny beams of light?
When the earth simply woke overnight,
Rebuilding the bricks and rubbles
Joining the pebbles to your daddy’s sweats!
Can you find the man to cut the diamond inside you?
To shake the flourishing raindrops with a grotesque shake,
Can your blood feel his presence?
Where has the world moved, where pebbles smile at the dust!
Where has the astral nerves resided now,
The nerves whom you shared blood with your beloved!
A day will soon collide, when inside the mirror
Thousands raconteur weeps,
A night will soon collide, when outside the mirror
Anecdotes will still be surviving and
reviving.
Life will roll in the rolls of tears,
A gorgeous reflection will pull the humans to the humans
A lacklustre shade will be living in the labyrinth of the violent jars
Intravenous wind will live insipidly
Carrying both identities surrounding you:
Making you cry or laugh at, saying:
O’ Gorgeous, O lacklustre!
Jitendra Deka
Infinity
How a sky intones at the lips of wind,
How a mountain plants rocks in his heart
Let God make the meaning of life,
A stony brook flowing in the thick wood
Waiting for the copulation of fallen leaves painting the colour of grief.
Let me smell my soul permeated sweat,
Let me exhale my last will painted
with odor of humanity.
Noble minds of noble deeds join their hands before the thorne of forgiveness.
Ray of astray prompts chasing my evils.
Hopes are flying over the land
pervading its fragrance in my hand.
Parthajit Borah
A cranky fly
A cranky fly tries to drench my eyes
to confirm its survival in flattery
to weigh sight’s dump estates
breeding lots of serpents in every inch of infectious sadness.
My survival won’t let it win the race
if its stings hurt beauty’s smile
if its tiniest wings poison soft winds
to bar new generations from happiness.
It wraps me and tries to be my skin
curling around my dreams
turning my ego into breathing warmth
to conquer my lovely universe
to defeat the soldier of peace in me
with its indelible teary winks of lies
that confuse my ever alert conscience.
But I’m to survive to give survival a
meaning
strengthening the strength of peace
broadening smiles into laughter
to win the sincerest hearts across the globe
to beautify the ugliest ones’ fertile minds
with hopes that will certainly generate hopes.
For that reason, dear friends, I’ll be cruel
to the cranky fly that strives
to prevent me
from planting green saplings
singing or listening to songs for soft
shower..
Bipul Kalita