I Want
To welcome you into my kingdom & shut out the sea,
Where on every cascading tree &sun-filled path,
sing chirpy birds & bumble bees,
To fill with their glee all your sensibilities,
An altar lit by your steadfast faith in me.
Here I slide down the walls of a flower cup,
Like the dew, collect in their receptacle
And catch you wink in the glint of the sun,
The intrigue in your eyes unload their burden.
Here rocks brood on the imperative to act,
Like your nearness binds me in a spell distraught,
Waving fields bare open to serene skies,
Only those in love could know of such wantonness.
Here I run my fingers through the satin grass,
the wind cannot break,
As I lay down, lost in their trampled immensity,
nothing can shake,
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poem by Seema joglekar
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A Birthday Reminiscent! ! ! !
On a glorious night of winking stars, one spoke in the tongue of the spheres,
An entire year did play &run, in my veins Spring’s operas,
One of God’s good ones he plucked &sent-an angel in my path,
Tuned to the strumming orbs, the day of my birth.
The good Lord smiled and in torrents held his accord,
Words stretched nonplussed, lost their resolve, taut, almost unheard,
Like the shifting satin robes of the sun acquired a new meaning at each angle,
While a cataract found rhythm in the pounding of my heart,
satiated dropped into silence.
Silence echoed between us like the quiet of the canyons,
Solitude surveyed, despair fled, with it came the condors ease,
Through the green meadows, the forbearing hills pervaded its subtle pollen,
Germinating dreams sown, each seedling fresh in its protective reds in anticipation.
The glades, valley and lakes spoke more than what gestures could say,
In long strolls when an arm girdled me & my world in sway,
Through fresh baptisms of rustling leaves and star dust,
Trees stirred in suspense, wind whispered what we dared not.
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poem by Seema joglekar
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Earthworm In An Hourglass
Don’t call me the seductive Sun,
That stretches out to burn every flower chosen,
Burning itself out, before darkness spreads her hair,
All its charms it has spun.
Don’t call me the stealthily staking Moon,
With her clouded memory reigns bright solitary,
In lunar milky glow her blemishes show,
Her imperfections enhance her beauty.
Don’t call me that denounced outcaste Star,
Seeking her beau, like a flash of forgotten dew,
Under the aegis of what gods from a universe afar
She diligently tries to reach out to you.
Don’t compare me to the passing spring,
That throws fleeting banquets on the run,
Lightning & thunder, to the rhythms of nature play encore,
Blossoms & butterflies in ruby panic of fleeting time cohere.
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poem by Seema joglekar
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Twilight In A Tea Cup! ! ! !
When we first met;
Our friends squatted for tea in a newly painted eatery,
Growing weightless with Joyce, Sartre, Pyncheon & Proust,
Mugs &Mughals collided, intellectual dislocation sanitized,
Like on a conveyor belt, revolved on the metaphysical rifts
in the philosophical firmament,
When the hour of the wolf dawned & the howling began,
Illuminating discussion we handed it down like vermiform appendix.
Evening exchanged junk food for soul food amidst the aroma of tea.
Our tea dabbed in colors like a heterodox, reflected twilight in evening mist,
Plotting her teasing gold’s miserly, ethereally hem lined trees
Dallied with darkness, like a damsel in mock protest,
Gold rims of tea cup stalled heuristic breeze
Casting a ruse, scurried in high octave to test.
On tea surface -clouds floated with an orange-tipped smile,
blurring distances in dimensions, devout shadows asserted fidelity;
Cuckoo strains corseted us, stars dropped splashless
throwing their histrionics in purple velvet
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poem by Seema joglekar
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Treading Dangerously
When we embarked on this path together
Skies at sunrise and sunset seemed deeper
While our glowing shadows cowered in their blaze
Wary like the spring that's only heard of the winter
I ask the spring -Does the winter ever creep in?
It answers; - I don't know.
Then I realize a daunting question like a mountain stood
On our path, to surmount it, I tried to bridge things my way
At times even with coldness, but I stood rebuffed
Cause you stood on top of the hill in pride, nonchalant
I ask the mountain -Will you stand in my path again?
It answers: - I don't know.
Then I bowed to your ways and prayed
the mountain would go away; it did
but at the back of my mind it did raise it's head
Always looming in the horizon
I ask the horizon-Is it still there?
It answers; - I don't know
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poem by Seema joglekar
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Sun's Autumn Homecoming!
Autumn’s meek sun returns, like a bird given away in spring,
Without her pomp and festivity, only the burden she brings
A brief spell, a light echo of spring, a little of that mischief and mirth,
She arrives for the first time to the dwelling of her birth.
Wiping away mists that cloud those memories of bygone days,
Unlike those warm tears, spring showers, when parting with the bride,
The jingle of her bridal jewels, bird’s songs in their caress,
All left behind in the casket with her coquettishness.
Garrulous streams, she bathed in, floated jewels meant to burn,
Now a mere trickle sends cold showers, to allay that thirst,
Like the grass beneath her feet, pinning away to a colorless fringe,
She brings gifts for everyone, loaded fruits, plump hazels flowered in spring.
Charlatan clouds roam in guile, with no rain under their wings,
Once her bridal cavalcade, now vanish like curtains drawn aside,
Under clouds awnings draping her modesty, she lowers her fierce gaze,
Being the one pined at, she returns to arrest winter’s pride
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poem by Seema joglekar
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One Lazy Afternoon!
Bonjour tristesse! *Surya covets rhythm, everything pales next to him,
Sunlight floods, like a lost childhood remembered under a quilt,
Mother of pearl clouds like white peppercorns put to flight,
The speed of their steps, giving form to the things I felt.
On the floor of the valley shadows rush driven into the pool,
Lurk behind the reflected glow of the sky -cannot decide which was brighter.
Distant kopje tosses summer snowball fights, with orange peels in my heart
Like the radiant light seeping through my outstretched fingers strike gold,
In my arsenal of awkward questions gems explode.
Brooks by the meadows snake a piping cadence of restlessness,
Under his indecent glare, grass bow away, blossoms move indoors,
From under the grass dew, exiled like a dropp of trailing rain,
Moving briefly &vanishing, it’s course the shape of a question!
Deep on the bank of swirling pink mist, each stalk of grass
Wore a fluffy seed head, breeze, demonstrates nice fluid poses in sway,
Spotlights that gave an occasional moment's glitter to my existence,
Direct &cutting through things, throwing the inconsequential out of the way.
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poem by Seema joglekar
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Wilted Rose As A Bookmark
Desideratum*—plucked young as an oblation
of the love sick hermit, ,
Billet-doux *forgotten, why resurrect me in a book raving wolf &false prophet,
to venerate at leisure? , a life in bracket, the reluctant goddess
Then cast away to shadow knife in the cellar?
Or a worse fate of utter neglect in Hades.?
Feeding her cold, satisfied distrust,
Condemning a future bound to its secrets,
When in denial, looked me over,
just a banal confirmation or an error fixed in doubt.?
Surrendering each page to the bookmark,
given an adrenalin wash for the trouble,
Like a prop used to measure the mistakes of the past
Or a fruitful future to girdle.
The Gods are hard to please, give him the benefit of doubt,
No one’s innocent all have blighted the rose!
Petals compete to be wisps,
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Carpe Diem-seize The Day -with A Hug!
Wander not dear- blow with the fair breeze & fly the high seas,
All the fretting & sulking stoked, to find an enduring harmony in me,
Wander not into sounds that trick, with their spirited agonies,
Come seize the day, for we shall speak in the melody, God meant for you & me.
Look into my eyes; you shall reach the end of all your journeys,
Place your hand over my beating heart, & find it surpass yours in all degrees,
Like the butterfly, in a God endowed span, enjoys itself thoroughly,
Seeking nothing from flower to flower, save the sweetest of honey,
Live the joy & exuberance as God meant it, rest all must be memory,
Like the sweetness cast by the meekest flower, on a winter day, on a bended knee.
* * *
Let the cuckoos sing their sweetest,
Where lovers with a heavy heart rest,
Let the winds blow their trumpets
Where a lone candle burns in earnest.
Let the stars burn their brightest,
Let the darkest hour put them through the harshest test,
Let the coy flowers wistful in sobs of dew throw a riot,
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poem by Seema joglekar
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A Venial Discord!
1. Love me not, with eyes yearning,
Flagging looks & charms fly,
Crab age will come by knocking,
Love me with a discerning eye.
2. Love me not, like the seraphims in heaven,
Milk and honey ever flowing,
But cleansed in my hide of dust and grime,
Like a mortal -enduring.
3. Love me not, in doubt of his great reaches beyond,
Let love take your hand; see the frail daisy follow the sun.
My beacon in a lost land,
Love me as my chosen.
4. Love me not, in youthful abandon,
A whim for every season,
Love me, with eyes that light up,
Locked into mine each time.
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poem by Seema joglekar
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