My Poems

'Pebble-skipping! Pebble-skipping!', Mama shouted before running For the pond o'er the plain, As her mom cried in vain. On each hop her pebbles made, She revel'd on ripples spread On the water round n round Melting at the grassy bound. Pebbles made a trailing lurch, Each tender with her touch, To lay on bed cool n deep, To her wonder fore'er sleep! She'd skipped over a ton When she bent to find none, But chips of a canine skull Round on her desperate trawl. Her blood began to dry, She darted with awful cry Into mom's safe bosoming, And forgot all pebble-skipping !                       -- N P Samal

Things of beauty do adorn  these livers, Basics of life have set in palms and plantains, Mangroves, palms luxuriant with cedars  Are lapp'd up in meads by vales and mountains. Plants do make their offerings round the year, Honey n hens garnish up the daily meals; Nature does tend simpletons like a mother, They have forgotten their hearth for hills. Love birds' refrains resound near, then far Across riverine planes and hedges; Up sprinkle the fountains purest nectar Among bluebells, lilies and roses. Frolic the urchins at everyday fest On turf of lentils, melons, and jawars; Toil the elders steadfast, and toast at rest O'er country ale, rumours, game roosters. Ill-cover'd humans are nature-borne, Fabrics of custom conceal their shame; To keep the clan pious n pure they've sworn, And scripted their life in deity's name. The deft and tireless hands ne'er ignore The creation of arts, crafts, convention; No care they dance to drums, and ...

I've read Gandhis, Kings, and Socrateses, Lincolns, and other greats; and heard  Their biggest triumphs under the sun, And their lasting legends all my years on. I've learnt how their resplendent emergence Got us a benevolent Universe -- heavens  Of fairer suns, of nicer moons, Of brighter stars, of more elegant skies, And a hospitable and pleasant Earth With blooms of love, and winds of peace, With spreads of truth, and warmth of bliss, With soils of growth, and minds of dreams, With sense of work, and voice of hymns... I, too, have learnt how Might of Virtues Decimated the brutes and demons, And how the most ferocious foes Yielded to the Samaritans... And so, a human, committed am I, In my resolve to emulate the greats -- Their values, fortitude, sagacity, And epic feats for human immortality! Yet, when I'm reminded of the ultimate, I see me I'm all but an ephemeral secret -- So infinitesimally form'd, open'd: An insignificance within S...

When m y daughter inhabits my vision, Resides the creation in the Creator; Nature proclaims itself idyllic on  A fine n boonful ethereal order ! The vast cerulean walls mightily present The glister'd images of my daughter That no divinity can well equate With all the glitters and glitz together! Melt heaven and hell into the love urn Of her motherly bosom, with kids' cheer As i rejoice at the divine sojourn Across the gliding rainbow of pleasure !! When my daughter slips from my mental bound, Do i see tears, deprivation abound, As follow my tense eyes the sight and sound Of sufferings; and wretchedness all around ! The plaintiff moans of condemn'd sufferers Rupture the summer through to the ether; Under the palls of gloom, and doom, and fear, The fatigued earth is all tombs and litters ! In countless notes of humans' tragic fate The reality counts render the dirge; Divine absolute ain't a bias, yet The bonded mind cannot notice and purge !! ...

The motion of love between us Is poised spotless, sacred and pure-- Passion propelling, logic controlling-- As we travel in the light of consciousness. Yet when, sometimes, reason is resting, That emotion ambushes the feeling As the most desirable damsel  Rests her body tamely on mine, As I fidget, in some inane rapture, For the seraphic thing forbidden enough. But reason ain't too idle to effect a sleep, Nor has it laid down its weapon deep, And up it wakes, in a swing of action,  Slamming my sinful passion Into an uneasy submission-- A neutralization-- That incapacitates me To deny the admission of sanctity,  Or accept the denial of profanity, As between our attach'd bodies rises a wall So impregnable by the rawness of a plebeian, So insurmountable by the paws of a caveman.                                                    ...

In the delirium of reclusive adulthood And the delinquence of parriahcal boyhood, I stood on the sword edge struggling As passion and precept went on haggling: One in the savage of exotic freedom, One in the confines of decreed wisdom; One by the vagary of bestiality, One in the bridles of morality; One driven by raw impulses, One guarded by righteous senses; One for the gain of vanity, One against the loss of sanctity: One was mortal abetter of Karma, One was immortal messenger of Dharma... On one shoulder sat the devil And on the other sat the god, One pulling to left And one pulling to right; The tug shook me off balance, And I, I did tumble to the former, That has devastated my life for ever.                                                          -- N P Samal

Behold the east and see the sky Ravish'd unbound in solar dye Has bent over to kiss the earth-- Coy cheeks offer'd in extreme mirth! Notice the soulful parting kiss At cradling skyline's cosy abyss, The sun and the earth's twilight rapture O'er the sparkles of marine splendor! Platonic states the allied gesture, Complete in love sacred and pure; Long live this celestial union-- Truth and virtue's boundless bastion! But come do storms in the quiet bay, And 'so tempests on the terrestrial lay; They do ruin the lovers' divine bliss With their hideous demonic jinx. Here, too, our own men no less vicious, And love falls to the lewd Oedipus; Cynics defile it by their distrust, Or to the spoils by thugs that's lost. Yet, the sun ne'er sets, the meeting ne'er ends Against the intrusive fiends' crook'd bends; Blossoms do love with holy incense With utter submission to the divine innocence.                          ...

A finger on a cord at best The musician in soulful quest Of notes and tones for perfection, In forging deathless rendition; In the illuminated slumber, The ball does mull the cricketer, In his attention, how the motion Duped him into imperfection; The painter's brush has sunk as deep As pines unfathomed, rapt and stiff To fetch the colours of vision With bristles of glorification... All are apostles, yet for one, The works of others are exclusion; In his, each finds the whole revolution In grace of human civilisation. They bathe in humankind's well being, They feed on fruit of selfless calling; They do bask in the  austere pleasure, They've banish'd all material leisure... Inspire do they as inspired are they, Enchant do they as enchanted are they; Creators are they of the own universe-- So great, so earnest than this mean cosmos! So noble is their Creation that God will cede His To them to metamorphose the Whole Stases, For they lone can mobilis...

For me, I'm not distinct from mine or you, From birds, brutes, plants, and inerts; Mountains and seas, the sun, the sky, the yond: I find in me each thing and me in all... For me, I'm a hireling, and a lord, I'm a victor, and too, a victim, and loser; I'm an icon, then an emoticon-- Desirable, yet then elliptical... Agnostics or theocrats, loyals or outlaws... All are same, one, indiscriminable; Comrades or rivals, the blood, the non-blood... All do reside, be strange or indefinable, in me. I'm a fact--existent and concrete; I'm then unseen, subtle and indefinite; I'm based, and through the brittle independent, Transient, indivisibly one. In life is death, in death is life. The two are one--inseparable and dependent. Nothing enters or exists in-between, For there's no end or beginning, No gaps or crumbs... I'll sleep eternally--when I'll sleep, at last-- Like dinosaurs since time immemorial, Or Einstein, Gandhi, and others ep...

Life is but a chance occurrence On move by destiny to death; Acts make it pleasure or penance Vis-a-vis chances in time wreath. Virtuous actions till our life, And chances give a fine harvest; Lacking in either makes things cheap, Together they do bring the best. Chances do tricks to dupe and slip, Through the loopholes out do they creep; To 'chancer's quest' they dodge and dip, The masters tame, or grow and reap. Virtues are planters; actions breed By tales of wisdom and nature's feeds; Losers are men by their own creed, Or madly driven by mindless needs. Relish on hopes, learn from error, For chances built on chances grab'd; Rebuild; mistake the same never As chances lost are hence not track'd. Easy or hard, unsure or sure, Things are not left upon chances; Endure, endure, cautious, secure, For you can change circumstances...                                 -- N P Samal

Deny the toddler's soft-tissued legs, But not his will and grit That makes his falls a brace by each To hold him firm and fit; He's noticed blossoms, not their height Or distance o'er the lea, Off his limit--the crib he's sprung For them in hops and glee... The toddler chuckles in merriment Over his lovely catch, His beatific ecstasy so Renown'd few else would match, All suddenly dies under the glare Of blooms in peer's embrace -- So lovely, freshly over His beleaguer'd floral class... Envy does grow and grow its gang, As grows the toddler's age, By day by night he bends his mind To fulfil every craze; Each move, each fight up he ratchets To tag the winner's fame, And get each hands, each lips Eulogising sole his name... Distances travel'd and heights reach'd, One after one by grade, The sight is cast now upper yet In quest of richer breed; A youth is he will sport his worth Even above the par, Thus he is out for th...

          I've been delighted at the sight                   Of berries in thickets,        And have splash'd water at lasses            At brooks, streams and inlets;         With gaiety I have play'd up and              Down bubbly laps of rocks,  And stretch'd the roots across the swamps                For swinging over crocs.       I've suck'd love notes of birds across               Riverine planes and hedges    And chased down fowls and flies among               Blue bells, reeds, and roses;     With boundless raptures rock'd have I             With brandies, and soft drinks,        And, too, carrie...

When my daughter arrived, my soul  began to fly Merrily i bestrode the poles and punch'd the sky. I spread my limbs over many a land and water, And soar'd to the ether, then swoop'd down to nether. Like absolute patriarch of humans, birds, brutes Proclaim did i my clout o'er all terrestrial broods. So epic was the attainment  of fatherhood, If i had bred billions with the  'Creator's manhood'. When my daughter arrived, fountain'd the winter suns In thousands with deific lights and  warm'd up my morns. Deciduous life turn'd calm and  blithe evergreen, Wholesome luxuriant delights as i bask'd in. And i stood firm like maples and oaks the whole of earth Clutch'd in my roots, against nature's vagarious wrath. When my daughter arrived, raised i warrior's spear, Revenge i craved for all i had  got to suffer. And swore to destroy, create, preserve with Lord's permit In order for peace, justice, lo...

At a secondary school cricket match Stately I swore to be a Tendulkar, Buoyed by tremendous cheer of my batch And theirs showering of imperial honour When I got a five-wicket winning haul By the seam and swing of a tennis ball; On the evening of a festive new year When I lifted the coveted first prize With a romantic Aashiqui number And got a trophy of the Filmfare size, I vow'd to be a more famous singer Over the fame of 'Kumar Sanu's Junior'; Deifying the teachers with a high regard, And deep reverence for Radhakrishnan The day when the country's each learning yard Had the nation fall in benediction, I bent to be a teacher of the brand To win medals from the President's hand; Once at a city science exhibition I envied a school boy's 'Eyerinator', And forward scientific innovation That imploded me for a sci-fi achiever; Goaded by the whim of a narcissist, I set for being a radical scientist; Yet one day, I started off my...

       Full of puzzle is the life we live--              Ordinary, yet strange;             Limitless, yet limited...--         Each instant brings a change;          If by accident we own it now,               Have got it to disown,   Nature will seize the things we've got--           By virtue or vice we've won.          The life is a lease to each one                 In this nether entire,    My bliss, my owes, my days and nights             None to borrow or share;                Individual in the body            Belongs to none whoever,          The Lessor does take it back ...

One day inside a junk food store I stood withdrawn at a corner - The man behind the counter if Had spew'd me 'hot' on fare... And i stood on - panicking at 'junksters' Devouring the fascinating numbers One after another... I stood on - endanger'd kind - Beleaguer'd by my apprehenders, If i had stress-pass'd into enemy sector.. And i stood - desperate to slip From the elite store... That day, i was bless'd I discover'd me walking the side way - Like a castaway - Far from the forbidden realm of The dreadful rich monsters, Decrying my fate for being unable to pay And i - i walk'd on - on and on, Back to the sanctuary of nature - Night and day... And today, a centenarian, i am happy that I have left the hippies far away, And lucky that I have been 'poor'...!                                   -- N P Samal

What for am i taken ? Where to am i taken ? The garden is left behind, The master well knows the kind. Why then he takes me away ? Do other pastures far lay ? - More flourish'd, lushly green, And none yet has ever been ? O, there go my fellows side way ! - Unkempt and wretched do they stray ! They are not fed like me ! They do not glow like me ! Will i keep them at bay ? Or take pity on their bray ?.. No, i have got to ignore, Have got to go with master - The nourisher of my health And protector of my breath. But where are pastures - More flourish'd, lush green ? But only a crowd I've been trapped within ! Whoever are these people 'round me ? Why ever do they pamper me ? Ah, i feel so feted ! Ah, feel so respected ! Am i so important ? Am i so relevant ? Bravo, my master ! Your pet is a cynosure. Oh tears - in my master's eyes ! Why then my master cries ? Is that in which his joy lies ? Or fear of loss that conveys ? Come on, m...

Losses abound, sorrows abound, Abound is everything else. But success remains too dear For the multitude, which the rich Do buy it cheap on the loots Hoarded by robbing of the poor. Revolutions have risen and fallen, Hopes have emerged and sunk, But 'egalitarian' the earth that is Has remained a home for plutocrats Infinite since the days of yore. The 'homicrats' are hypocrites-- Savants or savages, sinners or saints; By might, or by the right of laws, By grafts, by crafts, by crimes-- They have bled the poor over and over. The sabotteur's hand on the tiller The esoteric make runs free Through plural dupes and dummies, As the cogs of the 'neo-mobocracy' Crush mercilessly the public and poor. By the pseudo-designer's dishonest design, With the lethality that's built in, Do swarm the cronyists round the disguised fire, Mauling fellows for the pyrrhic wins, And have made the consequences fatally dire.                 ...

The birds are chirping gay in the boughs of spring, No care or concern for the old ones dying; The men are splitting waves in merriment No reck for the patriarch as over them death bent... The freaks are caught insane in wildest spell, While swallows do die off in torrid gale, Or down the fatal trail do sparrows slip, Or shores in raging sea's devouring grip: Lost are all in the falsehood of existence, In ignorance of the divine essence, And essaying through for physical pleasure; Of the inevitable they are unaware. Those that are singing gay are not the same; Those that are reveling wild are not the same: The heady birds, the hysterical men-- To make out the Design they are inane... The birds will go, the men will go; some moments Of act-- all these chirping and merriment-- All transitory with the mundane residers To only be replaced by other creatures: The continuity does lie in the Creator sole, And the finality none is here to flout; Birds come and go, ...

My friends age as do I, but why They don't, nor I, does say my eye Too blind to read the stubble grey, And face shrivelled and shrunk and dry. I wonder at pics long gone by, Guiltless, amusing, sweet and shy, And ask myself if ours are they, In spite of 'yes', memories 'ply. Wisdom and age when friends I find, Do conceal cunningly behind; Come out memoirs from mental bins, As we frolic with childhood grins. We squabble over any matter From petty to petite, and much more, And bury deep the burdens of age In stories, jokes and report age. When we become apart and 'lone, When age proclaims old have we grown, Re-live then we the days that's gone And rapt within we live and go on. Together young have we lived ever, Together do we mature never, In th' paradise we all have fallen, So we don't grow, and have not grown. The spoiler do 'home rules' present Snatching one from the other's extent; As we do feel all alienated, ...

I wonder why I came from dark, The peaceful state of rest, to stark Condition of the mundane illusion, Bizarre affairs of the unknown! I wonder why I sprang up selfish Surviving on societal service, And why wisest myself I felt, While, sans the wise, couldn't have dwelt! I wonder why biases I made, Why loved, why hated, why betray'd, Why thought deathless in the deadly filth Of snags and spoils from birth to death! I wonder why I liked to poach, Why craved, why preyed on to clutch The things fleetingly existent; My life being aptly an instant! I wonder why I favoured some Against others; made friends, foes some-- None being a comrade on arrival, Or on retreat from the ephemeral! I wonder why I made my soul Cut off from the Absolute Whole And corrupted the divine graces Recklessly with carnal biases! I wonder why I came a bubble -- Momentary a spark -- a fake soul, And why I confronted the Creator, In the frailty of a rotten creature! I wonder why...

Again, the letters in its veins the world Will flow down to its vast organs to mould, Re-mould, and lead the haggard-looking peoples To a future free of pains, attacks, and cripples... The Yoga Baba's biographic tales Of postures and 'patanjalic' heals Will do miracles controlling mind and breath Against ills and other villains of health... Somewhere in yore the time that womb'd the source, Baba now yields pen for the recourse To change the course of life back to the one The hermits lived, sans the rat race n pollution... The cultivation has so far begun, And Baba is supplying seeds to be sown; The planetary yoga plantation Will beat the heat of deforestation. Irrelevant will be clinics and drugs, Humans immune to the malignant bugs; Baba will stem the edible 'toxicants' By all-in-one neo-yogic preservants. Yoga's re-run with Patanjalic love Will teach the know-all sick the subtle force Of theistic, yet spiritual philosophy, So Baba's writ...