Professsional
PROFESSIONALS
It is his loved profession
As good as any occupation
Indeed a damned lucrative one
Yes! He is a born politician
People bowed him; not known
Whether it’s fear or devotion
But made he name and fame
And amassed wealth aplenty
Ample for his progeny
To guzzle for generations many
Earns he easily his yearned goals
Votes or any profitable posts
He expects nothing free to fall
Ready to pay in full to all
Be it dhal or alcohol
Sari, dhoti or a cotton shawl
Payola is his way to enthrall
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poem by Sathya Narayana
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I Am God
I AM GOD
I am God! The innocent first born!
Before nothing did dawn
A parentless kid I am
With no kith or kin
To nurse, nurture and train
I am an amorphous whole
Filled with nectar called pure love
Which I enlaced over human race
My spiritual progeny in universe
But see what they have done
I am scared! Alas! Of everything
Done in my name! Shown as my shape
My devotees and their airs
Their signs and ostentations
Their prayers and swears
Their transgressions and confessions
Their rites, rituals and superstitions
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poem by Sathya Narayana
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Beauty
Countless are beauties
To suit every taste
One Venus, one goddess
And many an angel
Seen, vied and gloated at
But! Lo! What is beauty?
For one fair skin is lovely
to another, black is bounty
But blonde is gorgeous for many
Lively smile, lotus eyes, long legs
Or total comely structure!
Ah! What is beauty? Where is beauty?
Theories were floated! Thoughts purveyed!
Frustrated hearts even wailed
That beauty is nothing but skin deep
Descriptions fail! Debates prove futile
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poem by Sathya Narayana
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My Dark Nights
At the distant verge of the horizon
Slowly submerging is the weary Sun
With reddened face
Bidding grudging adieus
To his day long drudging
Brooding over mandatory next come
I stood there staring at Him
I wanted to say “don’t depart”
In an automatic reflex
I lifted my right hand aloft!
Nay! He didn’t stop! I wept!
As feared reemerging are my
Horror-ogres, with creepy insurgence
A dirge from distant mountain range
Barged inside my fragile core
With harrowing clangour
Oozing out acid-reminiscenses
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poem by Sathya Narayana
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Radha Waits
I know, you never keep up your word
by habit O' my mate.
Yet I sat in that deserted place in wait
behind a thorny bush, beside a pond
pulling the innocent grass roots
and throwing stones into the defenceless waters.
My enamoured heart
allowed me not a glum retreat.
My hoping eyes didn't like a disjoint
with the wiggling country path
in that dim crescent light.
The Moon's melting down;
The white jasmines in my bridle were wilting down.
A mischievous zephyr whispered into my ears
"He won't come dear;
better you go. How long you wait? "
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poem by Sathya Narayana
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Autumn Leaves
I still hearken a little deep
from the rolled out time
the last song of cuckoo
humming through the hot winds.
The scents of last spring-flower
still drift through
my dried up nasal lanes.
Today walking silently
over the crackling autumn leaves
I rue for the withered
bed of roses that once paved my way
towards a breathing heaven of verve.
The parched earth and naked trees
stand before me
like fossils
of the deceased last spring.
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Common Coxwains (Revised)
They row, row and row
towards the sliding wonder world
of a fleet of hovercrafts
of elite on show
afloat on bubbly milky ocean-blues
like gold-threaded hammock of a lazy baron
flaunting opulence, splendor and élan.
They row, row and row!
The common coxswains in crowded little boats
carrying their weights, their plights
and half-fed entrails;
craving for the étagère at flotilla afar
in iridescent glitter; baroque and extravagant.
They row, row and row!
Sooner or later they come to know
there're no blades to their paddling oars.
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poem by Sathya Narayana
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Prod, God And All
Standing before me, the mountain
Tall, black, strong and impregnable
Challenging my nerve and gumption
Ready to laugh if I turn tail
But I must cross it, that’s my will
My life; need dire and my future
Between being skeptic and hopeful
At the task uphill, I fritter
The lull is painful and I stare
At all directions for some aid
Not sure, who’s there really to care
I prayed God; looked for a sign; odd
Someone’s there at the altitude
Real or my pipe dream’s contour
Knew not! But he gave me a prod
To scale the hill with new vigour
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I Chant, Chant And Chant
Dear God! Do you hear those prayers?
Millions calling you to take new Avatar
Let me recall; what you did aver
Whenever sins sour up and virtues downturn
That you would don human form
As Rama you killed Ravana; but when?
Eons after that demon’s domain
As Krishna you destroyed wicked kings
Yet the good ones for years forteen
Had to run ruin and remain forlorn
As Jesus Christ you bled and as Buddha
Said non-violence is always good
Since then how many centuries passed
Showed up not You, Your splendour
Hindering what Your comeback; humans wonder
Let us take stock and be frank my God
Do you possess the same command you had
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Rendezvous
Nearing his home town
The war-worn soldier
Felt like he is reborn
His horse strutting in steady pace
But his heart fluttering
In expectant rhythmic beats
From a distance he could see
A silhouette that could hardly conceal
The anxious beauty at wait
Her hands shaking in impatience
Their silent, inert house gate
The moment he came nigh
They smiled in great joy
Hand in hand they walked
Towards the door that’s a bit afar
He stopped all abrupt
Turned to her, basking in lust
Their eyed met; lips did unite;
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