My Poems

                            Liberation My hands are failing what they want to do, If I did see some fruits on a leaning tree; And legs can't move, if I'm in a hurry to Get to a place of value or need to see A doc when belly meets a dreadful pain: Each portion of my body, outer or inner, Is on retreat and sliding down the drain Of aging to the mouth of the Grim Reaper, And they will never form me again to dance And play and sing, or see the Nature's beauties And hear her pleasant numbers swallowed once. Gladly, however, mind does bear no worries, Rather it functions stronger by the day, To house me, over earth, in Heaven's lay. ©️ N P Samal 

Driver's Prayer (1) Oh God, Let me be with You, not with the demon! Let me learn from You, not from the demon! Let me be with sense, not with folly! Let me be disciplined, not unruly! Let me be calm, not excited! Let me be broad, not narrow-minded! Let me be patient, not impatient! Let me be acceptive, not violent! Let me be careful, not careless! Let me be mindful, not mindless! Let me feel that others are like me! Let me be for them alert and wary! Let me be law-abiding, not an offender! Let me obey the traffic, not create disorder! Let me realize that money is life's essence! Let me not waste money by causing accidents! Let me not use mobile while driving! Let me not be urgent for call-answering! Let me in no case drive on the wrong side! Let me keep gap from others long and wide! Let me be mindful of vehicle maintenance! Let me refrain from taking any chance! Let me drive slow, not drive fast! Let me live long, not shortly last! Let me remember my blood are over there! Let ...

The Line I am living yond the rounded line That runs around my matter-fitted body: A serene state where everything is fine And fair and charmy and grandly does embody The vast abode that decks the gracious Infinite, As soul is plushly touch'd by subtle particles. And I ain't going back from this lifeful Ultimate  To gloomy world which by its mundane tentacles Of losses, wants, privations, pains and sufferings, Of wars, aggressions, foulings, genocides Does strangle life to death or tragic livings: Thank God the line does run between  the divides,  My mind delighting in the deathless heaven And body -- I don't mourn -- by hell partaken. ©️ N P Samal 

Facebook Sonnet 216 From face to everything, this book's uncatchable  Speed, what Mark, when he concocted it, Hadn't any inkling, and can't himself be able  To hold it back from making its own writ,  On its each verso and on its each recto, With the pleasure pen of humanity And in inks of black and red and yellow; As Mark can't but stare at his upfront discovery  Guiding the sapiens sapiens to a region Of light and, too, misguiding by abetment  With fun and frolic, through disinformation -- A deathknell in the garb of entertainment.  Beware, a double-edged sword is Facebook -- A benefactor, and 'so a dauntless crook. ©️ N P Samal 

                     Tell Me Not Tell me not I was once a lad; An open sky that I once had, That offered me untold delight And lit my spirit day and night. Remind me not the days and nights That told me tales and flew my kites; Many a game that I did play With heart and soul unleashed and gay. Jog not my memory I once sailed Alone for miles and there beheld On either side, along the inlet, Many a willow and flowery thicket. Bring me not back the rights all lost,  All things that came by free of cost; Affection, love, all poured on me, Even when I was wilful, naughty. I'm in my time, leave me to suffer From weakness, bloating, bugs, whatever: Let me be in my dying yard; But tell not I was once a lad. ©️   N P Samal 

Girl: Paint me not with your mischievous hue.  Boy: I spray not hue but love that's true.  Girl: Love me not, for untruthful is your soul.  Boy: No, to blot your skin is not my goal. Girl: But you can't reach my soul, however,            within.  Boy: Least, let me pour on you my color bin! Girl: Your color on me will soon be re-colored.  Boy: Will be the last to erase if that occurred.  ©️ N P Samal 

THE PROWLER It looks to be that I will die today; And it did yesterday, the day ere that: I have been dying -- day-to-day replay -- Long since my life demurely doff'd its hat Before the all bemusing doubt of living,  That however I contrive my faith, It gives in to the doubt that's so imposing,  To be abandon'd at the mercy of death. Which route can I, however, hope to carve out? The siege by shortfalls, sharks, ill health, affliction  Is standing strong and age in early rout, And they have held me tight to life's decision... But know not why the prowler does not prowl,  As life does stagger on, bereft of soul. -- N P Samal