Indebted A Million and More!
A lifetime may fall short for a love to suffice,
What’s caught in twinkle of an eye, the heavens can’t revise
Names etched in gneiss, will bring not lost eternity,
Heed love, ebbing tides in destiny’s hand, may not always agree.
What journeyed miles that faraway look in your eyes burn,
With my first haul of kisses, it is from there I return,
There, when we first met, rich was I, with so much in store,
Smothered with near misses? Now you owe me a million and more!
It all began with consecrating a kiss uninhibited.
One for the sunshine smile, another for that look- contented,
One for the way of conveying quietly, shadows embracing,
One for a trick of thought, played graciously, me listening.
Grew manifold, when you tip-toed in my thoughts and stood vigil,
For times when you never tried to break my pride or bow my will,
For the give and take of glances and breaths caught,
And the times we went home with a song in our heart.
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poem by Seema joglekar
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Moon's Precept! ! !
Night hurries, sashaying swirls off her inkish steely veils,
Delayed, despairs, laps marshes and mead, for a rendezvous in the hills,
Eager, breathless, stirring all that she brushes with her longings,
Seeing her arrive, the Full Moon bows low, almost touching the hills.
Locked in his heavy looks, copper glows yellow in his golden rim,
Seeks her out in dewy moans, her stabs of chills in trim.
Releasing from her finest drapes, chameleon like quicksilver,
Stirs dark temptations of some unguarded hour.
Teasing, woos her, plays hide and seek behind the clouds,
Like scrolls breaching limits of human bonds, a flushing horizon unfolds.
Imparting flawless truth to things, his diaphanous ray,
Buffers human erring, revealing sophistries of the day.
Waxing and waning- in long absence, draws nearer by each day,
Knowing his wayward feet are always bound the homeward way.
Misjudged by the world, accused as the heedless lover,
Proclaiming, on a full Moon, shuts them up with his timely ardor.
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poem by Seema joglekar
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Summer Of Mango Showers! ! ! !
Prolific Spring has thrown in her towel,
To tussel with torrid chaos in warm April,
Sun’s slow winter seduction has gone in vain,
In myriad sighs of lonely distress blazes in ruthless campaign,
Like a flame held too close to the heart,
Hoarding too many years in one brief season,
He unerringly darts,
Feverish Indian Summer dons a crest of heat & dust,
Over hot macadam that tape &measure, the breath of summer,
Land contours that crack crease & dry, a pattern of brine fits the paper sky,
Scorching days like time-worn love that tingles the heart & torches the sky,
Dusty flowers crumble, slipping through his golden fingers,
Two horizons hover, in a mirage of packed dirt in nervous squiggles,
The hurting fields furrowed, poke heaven in the underbelly,
Temples find no devotees glistening in communal sweat,
Like its turrets in filigree,
After the scorn of summer, days shall return with the resoluteness of winter.! ! ! !
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poem by Seema joglekar
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Make-believe
Between twilight &dusk, a moment returns,
In semblance of pledges &vindications,
Between the fall of pretensions & touch of truth,
The hour of reckoning arrives,
Steely dissonance ooze squandered pulsations..
Presumptuous veils of tender passion recoil in a corner,
The corroding strife between heaven &hell ascends in ardor:
An altar burnt moth wobbles on the window sill,
Shrugging it’s portion of dismay heralded by each day,
Fluttering spills transparent hues& takes to wings.
I sense the bees trapped in their nocturnal flight,
Wrapped amidst pollens &petals make a dash,
Decked in Nature’s bounty like Cleopatra,
Wrapped naked in a silken foil.
Premonitions ripe wedded to weary anticipation,
First the flamboyant fire-fly, with it’s erotic glow,
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poem by Seema joglekar
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A Labour Day!
This empyreal, celestial bodies & the core, all a place assigned,
Mine lies in a wearied sunrise, crackling in a pool of sweat, cupped in my palms,
Like an obelisk, defiant heaving dawn from the elements,
Passing of my day, fathomed in the Sun’s shadow, moving across my length.//
No lofty notes sing my praise, with a catch in their heart,
No great affections fret their inattentions or miss their embrace,
In penury my sweat reigns; intimidations &wretchedness, all on me are in vain.
Your skyscraping cathedrals were once putty in my hands, thrown into your windowpane//
Alpha &Omega of my life, bejeweled with the non-material Tiara of undiluted sweat,
Where my hands had’nt reached it hastened darkness;
Sweat Talk; --
I embark on my great journey; I am sweat, talisman of the diligent,
Trickling beads across his forehead & chin, fat shining,
Hoodwinked by pimp time, ran into bricks that went to build your house.
Faithfully waiting for him around the corners, during his work pauses,
I have felt the cellar chills, as sepulchral as a church confession,
Flowing down his side locks, lingering in my path, patient.//
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poem by Seema joglekar
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Ode To A Sleepless Night
Svelte sunset beckons murky darkness,
And puts to bed another spangled day,
While heavens suspend in lavish turbulence,
Await seraphims with fireworks on their way.
Celestial bodies swing in silent purring cadence,
Float in mercurial spasms lit on ether,
Spheres make music vouch to never oscillate &move away,
As the nebulae serenade to each other.
Constellations dangle in garters & retire for the night,
Chant a rosary for a peace chained in denouncingweight
In stellar glory spin on spider’s thread to span a void,
Take the unknown road that only by the brave know not to avoid.
With our nearest star eclipsed in a night’s blackout,
The star-studded Elysium, in a cosmic flash heave,
Shadows prowl on tip-toes in night’s stillness down below,
In their lingering light, say this is where dreams live.
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poem by Seema joglekar
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Saga of The Weaver Bird & The Acacia Tree
The landscape -ascending azimuth, the azure sky lifts
The encircling curtains, of blue veil of vertigo,
Like a green floral skirt, fine open grass spreads in tribute, below,
In between stands the flat-topped Acacia tree
At an impasse with a giant cumulous cloud,
Bends and takes a bow.
In his benevolent splendour, like Moses on Mount Sinai,
Acquitted for withstanding the Biblical Deluge,
He stood like a stoic monk limbs outstretched,
Inviting in this otherwise arid, scrubby, dryland.
Globular heads on elongated spikes, soft fuzzy of golden appearance,
In the desert heat, he protrudes like one big tear of God’s compassion,
A pleasant land, but if one’s humor is mournful-
Wind swept with lonely dunes deserted ponds& barren moors.
Sullen wind awakes, rescued by the first rays of morning sun
Shrine to nature’s impetuosity, submitting to earthly blasphemy,
Storms, Droughts, floods, forgiven by spring’s consecration,
Vagaries of your various moods & his seasons.
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poem by Seema joglekar
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Single Woman sans Technology! ! !
Hint of hacienda & a brazen romp down the hill
House built in sedate colors for the most part,
Stone colored tans, green fields stomped in red earth,
A marriage to time & mortality just falling short.
What those horn-rimmed unmended sagging fences hide?
A different story here they all together confide,
Open smack of blissful neglect, time-warped, forlorn place
Away from where those technological clans run ablaze.
What modesty those moss-kissed mammoth trees bare in refrain, ?
Like a stoic digesting a million insinuations a day,
And a dash of existence the overweight cattle gain,
Here I feel one full heart-clot of outraged jealousy,
Here where technology fills no pause & no cable wires block the terrain.
In my chest, empty spaces stood connected,
Where criss-cross Medusa phone wires tangled,
Where even in specks of silence static would enter,
With questions that intend to draw blood & answers that blur.
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poem by Seema joglekar
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Autumn's Window Decorations! ! !
Spring gallops with his unbridled flourish, flamboyant in display,
In winter solstice rebuked, mellow Sun languishes in disarray,
Sedate autumn tiptoes warily stepping over spring’s leftovers,
Triumphs over its boisterous fracas, spilling glory in arcade of mature colors,
Smarmy cold winds guzzle darkness, a vice reserved for the night,
Cajoling her to huddle, intoxicated take to bed the moon,
Under the light blanket of stars, tossed off with approaching light,
In silhouette lull descends, to disrobe nature at dawn
Summer dons its last garb with deviance, as Nature begs,
For just one more warm day to bask in the subdued Sun,
Stealing away our precious light as nightfall creeps faster into day,
September’s sloppy kiss, bids adieu to summer’s last hoorah.
Catching a light and a shade of a vibrant spectrum, worn-out leaves dangle,
Lets doubtful light filter, through the tapestry of their veins, delicate,
Into decorative window hangings, sequined with colorful gems from the deep,
Sunlight streams through in beams, in shimmering golden brocade.
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poem by Seema joglekar
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