POETA: The Animal Instinct

Peopled places have much to see

emotions, reactions – a melting pot

some have it more some have it less

the tiger’s stripes and leopard’s spots

-

Purity wrapped in black humour

pugnacity veiled by modest  blinds

the tiger’s hide is a zebrine pun

on the people of a myriad kinds

-

The fine patchwork on a dirty quilt

or goodwill marred by power lust

hiding behind the pardine facade

are conniving minds of the corrupt

-

But none as black as a sooty crow

and none so fair as a holy cow

none as tall as the tallest tree

none so meek as a slighted bow

-

Peopled places have much to see

emotions, reactions – a melting pot

some wear it more some wear it less

yet all ignore the blood-curdling shot

-

Screaming slogans fall on deaf ears

letters and cases lie year-struck

all means of protest are now passe

time to celebrate the poacher’s luck

 -

And to revel in stripping and slaughter

for mink blankets and tiger rugs

for leather boots and spotted coats

because once a thug always a thug

 -

Hey…its slash and burn cultivation

it returns in the vanishing cabinet

for wildlife grows on tree tops

and springs out from Zeus’s head

 -

Peopled places have much to see

emotions, reactions – a melting pot

some wear it more some wear it less

the tiger’s stripes and leopard’s spots

-Akanksha Gupta

ODE TO POETRY

A string of words

like silken threads

flow with grace

and elegance

 

And pour on paper

through the lips

reddened by wine

from luscious grapes

 

Fresh and without

deceit or pretense

not  much misted

but yet influenced

 

By my -our – world

and all its children

by vivid emotions

and life’s dividends

-

Oh birds from bards,

like prayers divine

that may not but

may somehow rhyme,

 

Flap, fly and chime

at all odd hours

for birds and hills

and trees and flowers

 

And everything

that they, you, I

can behold with

beauty in our eye

GOALDEN

On the ground

I heard the sound

and  heard it loud

like a thunder cloud

when the beaten ball

had a mighty fall

on the fresh soil

and at once recoiled

with indomitable force

and changed the course

of the history

and this victory

with the last goal

made the stadium whole

turn heads around

and hands resound

~Akanksha Gupta

PARALEPSY

Ole friend…
You once promised to stay
Throughout the journey
But in the middle of nowhere
I lost you, you left me

I thought I reached at last
I think was almost there
But, o but alas
I was struck by despair

Broken bones, broken faith,
Broken heart and broken soul
At once gone with the wind
Was me; my life, my whole

Then I called for you, you came
And so did my hope and might
And I revived my little world
Building on by bit and byte

Yes, you were right dear ole friend
You were always there for me, with me
But i forgot you somewhere in the dark
When i met with fear, my ole enemy

CHOCOLICIOUS FANTASY

A cube of PERKish delight
Sings the MELODY of a crunch
A glob of molten CADBURY
Deafens a mortifying MUNCH

A NESTLEing sip of hot chocolate
Transcends my being to MARS
In the DAIRY MILKy way
With multitudes of FIVE STARS

Oh here’s a BOUNTY of delight
Like a HERSHEY – studded cake
That SNICKERS with every bite
Below my turbulent choco-lake

-Akanksha Gupta

CRYING WOLF

Tears roll down the cheek

With great moment of momentum

Moments of joys and sorrows

Tasty rum full of glum.

 

Oh their undefined motion 

And changing moments of force

They emerge and summersault

Like salty seas full of remorse.

 

They overpower the heart

The strong moment of inertia

They are ceaseless and impatient

The drops afflicted with dementia.

 

Do they have any rolling friction

Or radius of gyration too?

For they flow with great conviction

Save the mechanics for me and you

-Akanksha Gupta

SHE AND ME

the sultry sunny  morning
glistens from her face
as she trudges along slowly
with a gazelle- like grace

and her eyes that shine cerulean blue
almost hypnotize guests like me
and i am drawn daily to her
like a flower to a honey bee

she sparkles with all her might
smiles twinkling across wavy hues
and she dances in all colors bright
as mischievous thoughts inwards brew

the sun stares too mystified
for the moment can’t linger longer
and drowns down the horizon
into her cool and calm slumber.

-Akanksha Gupta

FOR DEATH DROWNS THE SOUND

i looked so i saw

i heard so i listened

i ate so i tasted

but numbness hung still

 

a chair moved

a chair squeaked

a desk drummed

but numbness hung still

 

his face was withered

and white as a sheet

he spoke not

oh! numbness hung still

 

and he uttered

no words came out

throat damp yet parched

oh! numbness hung still

 

a tear fell down

soundless was the sound

that wet his cheeks

as, numbness hung still

 

words came through,

And broke the silent air

t’was about his father then

so, numbness hung still.

-Akanksha Gupta

DIWALI: LIGHTS, DIYAS AND CANDLES

once a year we celebrate

the glory of the past

with lights, diyas and candles

oh some crackalacking blasts

‘

dhanteras is day one

spent in malls and marts

and naraka chaturdasi

is when the poojan starts

‘

then comes amavasya

paying homage to the lasts

and kartika shudda padyami

oh some crackalacking blasts

‘

sweets are for the standoffish

and games for the fainthearts

laughter for the lugubrious

and lighting for the belle-arts

‘

but for the fiery fiends

burning in ageless enthusiasts

its more than a nightly fest

oh some crackalacking blasts

-Akanksha Gupta

ps: i know it’s a little out of time

THE REIGN OF TERROR

A drizzle of blood

from the skies burst

touched his lips

and quenched his thirst

`

Was he a vampire,

a zombie, a poltergeist

Satan, phantom

banshee, extortionist?

`

who sucked innocent blood

and wet his throat

to inspire men

with hate and loath

`

His bombs, missiles and gun barrels

vanished cities with  blast

and the eyes of each city shone

with the ghosts of its past

`

Each man, each woman,

each child of every faith

vowed to strike back

and avenge their death

`

And at last as though heavens raged

in silence with interminable zest

in secrecy they sent him where

no man in peace does ever rest

`

Is this the emotion that oozes

when you hear his name

forgetting latent virtues

in sheer disdain

`

how many of you agree to that

upon which the poem insists

I may, I may not, but

isn’t there a heart in every terrorist?

`

they say probably not

-Akanksha Gupta