My Poems

Page after page I turn back on my life And see each day has past no words to show, Robbed of are all of rivalries and strife On every recto and on every verso. No trace of tears, or bloodshed, or champagne Of joy, as I pore over, do appear -- All feats and defeats of my selfish campaign Are gone beneath the sheets' each rusty layer. If at all from the depth, spurt out big ones,  Fear of death instantly sucks them down, Superfluous life of gain and self-indulgence As into vacuum of the void, does drown. I find in me no David or Goliath As slides the life into th' abyss of death. - N P SAMAL

Death is not death that's brought on by the sabre Or when a virus causes life to fall, Nor is it coax'd to venom of betrayer Or pressurised into abetter's cull. Unearn'd, undone is death that dies ere time - The time ere fall, a fruit delivers seed -  As halt divine progression, chants of Hymn, And Holistic plans for which God does breed. Each born does get a leg to complete it And add to Creation for attaining death, So, unattain'd as by the fallen spirit, God does punish the killer for th' unjust death. Death is death, that crowns the Holy course; Death is death, that falls to Godly force. - N P SAMAL

When I open my eyes, I see You are more beautiful than me. When I open my ears, I hear You sound nicer than how I utter. When I open my mind, I read Yours is more courtly than my creed. And I open my heart and feel Humans are you all, my being evil... The more I open me, the more Of my existence I abhor. Should well I die from my abhorrence, I know I can't be one from you humans. So shut am I to outlooks on your kind-- Shut are my eyes, my ears, my heart, my mind. And hide myself in garbage humps, Midst the scavengers in putrid dumps. Thus camouflaged have I got in the filth And motion me in an art of stealth. And like a rolling ball of rags, I carry 'wastes' in jumbo bags-- The human wastes, many assets' worth, Daily source of my life and growth... Feel not for me if you got me, I'm happy as I used to be. In squalor, raised have I been long. In squalor, grazed have I among Bovine, canine, feline companions With crows, vultures, and worms for aeons. Yes, since my mo...