Thru the
Window
Of the
Gym
I see
An old
Woman
Walking
Some years
Down the line
There'll be a
Young woman
In the Gym
Seeing me
Walking...
Theme: Cycle
(This poem came to me today while cycling in the Gym)
There Were...
There were
Three cars
In the house
Must be
People
There too
But when
You ring
The bell
To talk to
Them, nobody
Opens the door
To you
(wrote
this poem after seeing someone standing outside our neighbour's door
for quite some time and then walking away as nobody answered the
doorbell, though I knew there were at least 3 people inside the house as
they all have their own cars which they drive out when they leave home;
this could be the growing urban trend across many cities around the
globe)
Every Day
Every day
I pray to
Get thru
The day
For I don't know
What will come
My way...
Whether it will
Make my day
Or lead me
Astray...
Morning
Morning
Cuppa
And
Cigarette
In hand
Health
And
Death
Go
Hand
In hand
(wrote
this after seeing one of my neighbours standing in his balcony,
inhaling the fresh morning air, sipping his hot tea and smoking his
daily cigar)
You
You
Let them
Handle
You
Let them
Go
You
Let them
See
You
Let them
Know
For they
Also
Need
Their
Space
To grow
(addressed to parents with regard to children)
Living
Living
With
The
Living
And
The
Dead
You
Feel
As if
Life
Goes
From
Green
To red.
The first word 'Living' means 'to live'
The living and the dead implies those who are alive and those who have died but are still alive in our memories.
In
this poem, life is perceived as a set of traffic lights wherein the
human traffic of this earth begins with green (which is birth) and stops
with red (which is death)
Fight
You can
Fight
With
Yourself
You can
Fight
With me
You
Can
Even
Fight
With
The
Whole
World
In your
War of
Words
And Might
You can
Win or
Lose,
Possibly
But
No use
Fighting
Your
Destiny
Whatever
Is destined,
It's bound to be...
(Theme: Destiny)
Having
Having
Treated
Us with
His
Literary
Fest
His opus
Being one of
The best
He's finally
Got a place
To rest.
Amen!
(dedicated to Dr. C.S. Shah who's one of my favourite Boloji writers)
Dreams
The dreams
You dread
Having are of your
Parents dying...
And your wet eyes
That never stop
Crying...
(Theme: Nightmare)
Now
that my parents have grown old, I often keep having these sordid dreams
that I would never want to have; the fear of losing my parents is very
oppressive.
All the above Poems © Aparna Chatterjee 2014
