Christmas time
The twelfth month of every year ,
December twenty-fifth ;
Supposedly to celebrate ,
The Birth of Christ , but ;
Much is spent , less proffered ;
Hi-tech resonance of music screams ;
Soaring beverages and refined wines ,
Scrumptious food are loved and dined ,
Lavished clothes for church congregation ,
That Christmas tree , meagre customary ;
Tinted homes with best of paints ,
Left but none all self made saints ,
In biting cold , wrecked folks demise ;
Impenitently the poor , to sympathise ;
The have not grieved contentedly,
Of heart from grief beguiled,
Yet , they knelt to pray – so piously;
Thus truly, adoring God.
Sonny L Khyriem
Your touch
Your touch has replenished
my dried well, put me to the test
of wild passions.
Will you drink from it?
Will you satisfy
my passions,
dipping in it?
Christene Nongbet
Don’t forget me
I know not thou,
If you suddenly forget me.
Uproot my love creeper
Rooted in your soil.
Take my soul far from you ,
I know my love feeds on your love.
I know thy smile imaged innumerable
lost pictures of the Autumn,
Lost voice of unvoiced soul
penetrating through my window,
Whispering the banned songs of thee.
I never knew thy as i extinguish your sky,
But, each day each hour may cry
fire is repeated whatsoever.
ah my love don’t forget me.
Parthajit Borah