My Poems

I find my existence in my own labour - None than me to my earning, to my yearning, To my love of enjoyment of own pleasure That I am bound - unbroken from my being.  And happy me is at peace with all around - With likeness, love, society and sprite; In fulfillment of me the whole is found Blooming, becoming, bounteous and bright. Yet when my construction is slightly shaken  By devils of damage or deprivation,  The human being in me decamps, the bane I jump on with a violent rebellion  Till I secure my form, flesh, blood and bones Or I consign my being to sins of demons. - N. P. SAMAL 

Behold I beauty of the chromatic bow -  The treaty of contrasts 'neath the blue azure, What can equate this rare majestic show  Of various colors that designs the Nature? Diversity defines the bond of Creation,  In odds are form'd the Supreme amalgam; In differences lies dynamics of Union,  Each one is part of the Eternal Spectrum.  The home is home we lovingly belong  To differences, for whole of us to survive,  Sorrows we share - gains, jobs, and joys among - With love for th' ordain'd fragments with we live. Religions, castes, classes...all differences  Like heavenly colors are links of oneness.  - N. P. SAMAL 

Life is flowing with time ceaseless ahead As its each flow encounters the strangely new; Adopt, adapt or confront them hard-headed, It in your doted form will never pass through.  No fact if you're a pro or playing about, You are floating in the ebb and flow To suffer rugged pain when dry in drought, When rain casts you out to racking alien powe(r).  Down the mainstream, or staling in backwater - By banks of sand, crag, mound or muddy mass - Is caught your life, since you were sourced out ever, Sea bound  or it ere that away will pass. Flowing is time. Do flee or fall or flow on; It's momentary - from, and back to, the Creation.  - N. P. SAMAL 

The glass taunts you with your grotesque reflection - A caricature of you that your age shows; Then rocks you down the busy morning sun When limps your shadow 'neath your very nose. The crowd once you made fun of for being aged, Now suddenly appears all young and romping  If all around you are icons of David And you're lone individual on earth ageing. An escape, or an escapade, you preach - Like documented preachers - "Life is short, That it's too false for aggrandizing outreach..." - Tears hidden - an old king on loss of his fort, His empire, his young queens, his plenteous treasures, The sun, the stars, birds and bees, fruit and flowers... - N. P. SAMAL 

Loaded with a sense of separation, Their face gets droplets of awe palpable; And when resides a thought of union, They dread denials of being responsible.  They can't pace themselves with youths running blind For 'fads of fancy' in the luring broadway - Tools and tenets left far 'way behind, They fade into the race with frantic headway.  Impulses do explode the youngs in torrent - The winning force's a deviating onrush; Have fledglings of freedom independent  Of feathers of wisdom flown ever glorious? The gap does go yet wider as to snap And youths are fear'd back into savage trap ! - N. P. SAMAL 

Supremacy of people whoe'er can alter? Whoe'er can carry the load of the masses If not Republic's Mighty Transporter  That never stops, never runs into crashes? Goes on the Journey of the Juggernaut-- Thousands of years is its progressive course-- And has destroy'd many a tyrant and despot, With their empires, by Public's Ultimate Force... Born were Apostles to the e'er-growing Axis To add to Might of Humanity's Van Of Liberty, Equality and Justice;  That from Athens, Socrates had begun. And now, we all will take Savior Republic  To model each of our children Angelic.                                                        -- N P SAMAL                                                        

I panic when droop my eyes to sleep each night If I should ne'r wake up to see next morning; Yet desperate to escape from shaming light, I do fight back to sleep no fear of dying. So what if I did die my being asleep  Ere I return to deathly wakefulness? Why live in glares with painful lasting grief? Better is to lie in comforting darkness - Forever like the numberless who've died Or die each day without being glorified souls. What if some live love, care, riches endowed? All shall be laid deep in darken'd grave holes... But hands of hope wake me up ere the dawn To win through frustrating light of the sun. - N. P. SAMAL