My Poems

                 The Children Of Gaza                               A Blank Verse Thundering in the sky, then rain of missiles... See how they are fleeing arms outstretched  Like the broken wings of storm-hit birds, And see their faces white with fear and hunger And hear their throbbing voice of pain and loss... Over their head, the sky's no kites, no clouds, But fire and fire amidst engulfing smoke, And they are running like the Napalm girl  From Vietnam or standing frozen, like The standing boy from Nagasaki, before Their elders who are whispering in fear Or staring helpless in the gauge of Death... They are the hapless children caught in the war zone. They have no home, no school, no ground of freedom, But sole refugee camps and hospitals  If marching death has spared them of their life. They hear not bedtime tales but sirens of death.  For them,...

                     The Feather                                    Sonnet 171 Life is a feather, light enough for drifts -- Fast when the wind is fast, and slow when slow The wind does move; yet other times, it lifts Life to a high, then pressing 'gain to a low. Thus the waves of life with their each wavelength Adjust to whimsies of the changing weather, Too humble to withstand the weather's strength. When windless does the weather go, the feather Does lose its existence beneath the surface  Of fragility, as the flights of glee Or gloom, prolonged or short, in the embrace Of Time do get absorb'd no fuss, completely, Bidding the Earth a meek but scornful goodbye. What else does life to sapiens signify? ©️ N P Samal 

                     The Return                                   Sonnet 170 Infants do crawl and toddle about their home,  Happy with unobstructed play with toys, But they at last return to mom's bosom, For they do find in there unblemish'd joys. They later romp as children out in streams And meads, but home where they return for flowering, And youths in career do they rest their dreams, Back from willfulness and crazy wandering, Then consign them, as adults, to labor, But thus they return to raise their children, And lastly there's the nursing shed to harbor Before the old on them does pull the curtain. Whoever we may be, we will return; This's certain, this is fast once we are born. ©️  N P Samal 

                             Mahishasura                        Sonnet 169 When young, one year, I saw the Demon dying, As the Trident of the goddess Durga Into his stoney body deeply piercing: An art the 'medha' play'd on Dussehra Though, my tiny heart was cheery with Loads of relief the Devil's at last dead And gone were threats on life! But came the myth Next year, to find; as raised the Brute his head To fight the Goddess and to die again -- The repeat that happens every year, Just for few days to falsely entertain  The people's soul engulfed in inbred fear, For the Brute ain't dead behind the art, In our brutish mind and brutish heart. ©️ N P Samal 

                        The Anger Room                                  Sonnet 168 Sounds of crashing, cracking, clanking, splint'ring From the room do burst the air around As the objects one by one are lying Broken in pieces on the marble ground, Under the angryman's relishing eyes, While the avenging hands and legs run riot. At last the anger's got the vent that carries No crime, no guilt, no grief, and on the quiet Does the man appease his burning soul. Though costly is this novel deed to peace, Yet anger at the lifeless means no toll On human beings -- a bypass much to cherish. Hats off to China for this fine creation; A global fix against the vile emotion.  ©️ N P Samal 

                   Vishwakarma                                   Sonnet 167 He is the builder of the Universe  And therefore Vishwakarma is His name; He has built the Earth, her splendrous neighbours Inside the boundless Architectural Frame. And earthlings worship Him in most devotion For motors, mansions, mills, all mundane builds; But more construction goes with more destruction; To spoilage, wastes, do drain all Lordly yields. If construct does He, whoe'er destroys? Whoever brings forth cyclones, floods and quakes And hands out mortars, missiles, bombs to guys, That down each harbor, home instantly breaks? If Vishwakarma, then there's One to honor  Who will touch not Lord's resources, labor.  ©️ N P Samal