My Poems

Mama always loves her dad But she feels something bad That her dad is a little mad If he's not a man, but a lad So Mama at times feels sad Yet, Mama feels very glad Coz there's none in the world Better than her lovely dad.      -- N P Samal

 I bear in mind the moment I was tug'd Out of the  fortress of my mother's womb When by some trepidation I was rock'd  If  outside held me in the arms of doom - The light,the sound,the touch...the whole unknown, Uncanny open if it in sinister siege  Deprived me of my mum's impregnable haven  Till she hid me in her skirt's comfort and ease. Since then have I examined my innate fear And know it comes, comes with ingress of each tik Of time that our irrational mind's un'ware - With surging threats yet more obscured, more bleak... Unguarded moves our life, unsure and naive As fear overwhelms us from cradle to grave. -- N P Samal

I've question'd myself many times if soul Is looking to me with any desire, And tried to understand its veil'd hyperbole Which stirs up me against my being off-flair. It's so complaining of being sedentary If to the nothingness of wilds withdrawn, But rides composed so long as wings of glory Are soaring high 'unpaused', 'untired', 'ungiven'. Rapt if they all listen'd to the cry The ambitious soul of theirs'd intensely make, So voyaged victorious to limitless sky Their passion-laden will would stars in rake... The insurgent soul does fire instincts for fame; A great soul always goes with great name. -- N P Samal 

Death has sent me a missive of arrival And I have drop'd whole stuff 'gainst sinking down; But how to rise to heaven though 'robed off' all My mind being heavy with your curses thrown? 'So on me lie the heaps of guilt and shame  If I've err'd you with my misdeed and gaffe, That I'll consign me to immolative flame  By whipping me in persecution of self! I'm stewing like fluid on a burning stove  Lest my ignorance has distress'd your being; Forgiveness, as lone 'course does behove, Will rid me of the burden of unwise sin! Wont rest in Heaven my soul if died tomorrow! Forgive me now, for I mayn't see the morrow!! -- N P Samal

 Can't you e'er go beyond the ambit of blood? I wonder if your blood does thickly bear A tincture of a 'chauvinistic code', That is, the original ovule of Nature! So, with the Nazistic fanaticism You spill blood of the non-blood with elan- A bid by your campaign of hateful schism To rid 'your earth' of the contagious clan... How can you hold th' absolute hierarchy 'Gainst streaming of the Eve-and-Adam myth Or spreading of the 'Darwinian reality', While blood itself perceives not fair or filth ? Humans are we all through the inbred aeons- The hybrid of the conjugated clones. -- N P Samal

I wish'd love she requite - in desperation! But can a tree which offers its shadow To fagg'd  pedestrians need shade in return? And so, for love I shouldn't sink to the low. Up into me I look there lies the whole Life for me, my foliage, my boughs and buds, That I exist not in my want, but in dole - Light of the sun that he selflessly accords : By love of sun is made the love of mine, And for which virtue I can't be demanding - This so niggardly handout for my Tzarine - While I skip sun despite true offering! My love for her is what a shade just means, This love does die as darkness intervenes!! -- N P SAMAL

 Are love and tears always compatible ? Unknown if each to th' other well forbears; And tested with a break-up - in the middle - There's no substantiation of love sans tears. But tears do float you away from attachment - Away to farthest brink of love's rejection Till you enter the 'ego of detachment'  Which homes you safe in angst and indignation. The more your ego rises, more your grief fades And into sucking silvery billows Entire pool of your tears evaporates. Alas! When summer exits, autumn follows. And soon return your tears in heavy torrent Each drop of it besprinkling your love's paint. -- N P SAMAL