Arrogance or Ignorance
God’s finest creation
Man, abused gift
Of imagination,
In his folly
For self annihilation…
He unwittingly
Beats the devil
At his diabolical game
And claims
It’s in His Maker’s name…
He let’s all hell loose
And pretends ignorance
And has the temerity
To ask who’s
Responsible for this mess…
How does gift of reason
Make him superior
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poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Hello, Night! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
As the twilight hour strikes,
I eagerly await the night.
My heart beat never rises,
Nor am I overcome with fright.
As the darkness slowly creeps,
And nature gives subtle cues to sleep;
For once, I don’t pay heed,
Just tune to my instincts.
For the night is my friend,
For me, it’s a Godsend.
It’s the night alone that keeps
Its appointment with me.
Noiselessly it comes, as I wait
We grin and make eye contact;
Hug, hold and warmly embrace,
I feel The presence of grace.
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poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Restlessness
I have been blessed
With five senses-
To hear, touch, see, smell and taste,
But words fall inadequate
To express all that I experience,
Even if I take all the right ingredients.
Just as I always do
When I sit down to cook.
I first decide what the family will like to eat,
And then go shopping for the best vegetables and meat
Paying attention to colour and flavours
And washing them in running water with patience
Then chop, puree or make juliennes,
To stir fry them in a pan
I don’t have to measure the spices,
As I let it simmer the aroma rises
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poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Some Relationships Defy Explanation
As I espy the moon peep from the palm fronds,
I can’t help but feel glad and with joy respond.
I remember, since the time I was just a little kid,
The sight of the full moon used to make me limpid.
It casts a spell and I just spellbound, stare and halt.
My heart kind of leaps and does a somersault.
In the Zen like stillness of the early winter night,
I just find myself gaze at its face silvery bright.
Whenever I visited my granny, she used to regale
Us, as we lay on her lap, with so many magical tales.
One was about an old woman spinning a wheel,
On the moon, oh, how wonderstruck I used to feel.
Although, science has tried to demystify
Yet, I somehow, still continue to identify
With it, and my sense of elation and relation
honestly, I admit defies any kind of explanation…
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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There is no Charge...
Generosity of the earth,
For whatever its worth.
There is no charge
The fragrance of flowers,
At any time and hour.
There is no charge
The shade of a beckoning tree,
Offering shelter to a refugee.
There is no charge
The birds early morning orchestra,
Uplifting like chanting a mantra.
There is no charge
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poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Sacred Bond
When two people
Profess their love
And decide to
Unite in a sacred bond,
I t is an unwritten contract;
We will be a witness
To one another’s lives,
It will not go unnoticed.
You will get your space
And I mine,
We will be together
But follow our hearts.
We may take off the mask,
That we wear before the world.
But we will have the trust,
We will not think less of each other.
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poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Monsoon at peak! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Monsoon at peak
I hear a monologue-
Rain speaks…
Monsoon at peak,
Thatched roofs
Leak…
Monsoon at peak,
Corn on cob
Wins over coffee…
Monsoon at peak,
Can I go out, mother?
A child pleads…
Monsoon at peak,
A boy steals a look
At a girl soaked to skin…
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poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Spare just a moment....! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Spare just a moment for the bird
Who flew from bleak winter of her habitat,
In search of warmth, food wet lands
And green fields, instead only found silt.
Spare just a moment for the bird
Who uncertainly hovers in the sky,
A grey cloud drifting by, seemed to ask why
Alone, where is your flock and why do you cry.
Spare just a moment for the bird
Who oh, so despondently alights?
Looking askance for a sanctuary,
Perplexed, why barely a marsh, rest concrete.
Spare just a moment for the bird,
Who feels lost as it sits on an electric pole
Wondering whatever happened to Neem and Babool
Which spread out arms to welcome for rest and to nest?
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poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Old is Gold
Couplets of Kabir
The wandering fakir,
Full of spiritual fervour
and universal appeal.
What about Shakespeare?
Wisdom so rare,
With ingenuity, celebrates,
Universal truth and beauty
In his works and sonnets.
Have you read
Auguries of Innocence
By William Blake?
Just four opening lines…
Sum up life’s essence.
A short poem—epigram
What a clever twist at the end...
Coleridge rightly extolled:
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poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Spring stayed back for ever with gentle breeze! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
You knocked
At midnight,
How come you are awake;
Didn't you get your supplies?
No, thanks, I am well fed.
its just, am cramped
And restless.
May I come out
While its springtime?
It’s too dark inside.
Oh, wait a while,
But thanks for reminding me.
Before I knew
Room was full
Of bouquets of blooms
In every tint and hue.
As I inhaled the
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poem by Mamta Agarwal
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