The Thought Glow

I thank that surreal bulb. Its staid presence

renders life's low tidings worth some bearance.

On happier days I try fly, snuffing some of its
fertile shimmer's aid, like that free playful kite
or a guitar inspired, into some known unknown orbit.
Happiest chance, if illumes this reel in plain sight !

On a sadder day, to me this same sagacious light

Has been kind. A shoulder to rest, weep on.

Consoled in its way, not human, not quite.

Yet is keenest brutal, its bare honest tone,

Like a competent doctor's who doesn't bit hide,

When it diagnoses open the follies I own.

There in the distance I can see it vaguely.

The Thought Bulb's glow for thinkers at sea.

Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

by W. H. Auden

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Auden,

You distilled sincere the utter despair,
We all have felt or may someday bear.
Of a soul's cry beyond any repair.
Perhaps our Condition's saddest share.
Am lucky to partake of your heart's fare,
Share with you this Earth, our dearest lair.
Even the inanimate pen, I upon God swear,
Must have so despaired when you left life's care.

yours humbled,
Narimus

Stupidly Grinning

I can't stop smiling.

For no good reason.

O wait !

There is one.

Hasn't it happened to all of us ?

Out of nowhere has come

A pretty girl

Talks sweetly

To you for a while,

On an otherwise

Normal Friday evening.

Sweet chance, happy chance

You're great !

Sat down to write something

When you intervened

And then She

And her young friends,

All energy.

Infected me with a general cheer.

Now I'm smiling stupidly

And happily by myself,

Gazing peripherally

At the same world,

Which is now pretty,

On a beautiful Friday.

--------------------------------------------------

I can't stop smiling.

For no good reason.

But wait, there's one !

Obvious and glaring.

Hasn't it happened

to you out there ?!

It must have I swear.

We're lucky my friend.

Out of nowhere

A pretty girl's come.

Sweet talk and some

Nice time, you share.

On a day random,

you normally won't care.

Sweet happy chance,

You're quite bright !

While planning to write ...

Your sudden entrance.

Soon she was here.

And other young folk.

Their energetic talk

found me all cheer.

Now I'm grinning

stupidly, happily.

Gazing emptily

at the same world spinning.

Spinning now prettily

on a Friday evening.

Distressful Homonyms

Distressful Homonyms

Since for me now you have no warmth to spare

I sense I must adopt a sane and spare

Philosophy to ease a restless state

Fuelled by this uncaring. It will state

A very meagre truth: love like the rest

Of our emotions, sometimes needs a rest.

Happiness, too, no doubt; and so, why even

Hope that 'the course of true love' could run even?

by Vikram Seth

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Dear Mr. Seth

Excuse me if I violated some

Written law. "Hunted" the poem from

a website, aptly called poemhunter.com !

But if I did err, there was volition

I have to agree, though no ill intention.

'll regret I think not, later this action.

Praise I must, though my person

is far invisible from your station.

This, an inferior poet's commendation,

is a small token of appreciation

For your simple sad observation

on a restless lover's situation.

On the technical side of things,

the distressful homonyms

may appear a cheat for easy rhymes.

A cheat that is harder than not !

Can not imagine how you got

this gift for craft and for thought.

Cheers !

Narimus

Dear Reader,

This doggerel of a token

is a weird recommendation.
It was not the intended action.

Still if you entertain this notion,

a happy accident. Your attention

may take a chance diversion.

I will only say this much.

Enjoyed Mr. Seth's poem a bunch.

And others also from his whole bunch.

yours truly,

Narimus

History's Kiss

Leading this modern life in many a comfort,

By a decade, a day, an hour or perhaps a year,

The medieval man's faithful horse's trot

stumped my brain, amused this current ear.

Cradled in Now's sure hands' long reach,

it is hard to hark the quiet gurgle of History.

No cars, no fire, no invention, not even speech !

That there was such a time when all was mystery.

So foolish of this brain to Think now is forever.

Soon will come a time when we will be ancient,

This computer a kid's toy, this phone a souvenir,

Our "modern" ways old fashion, in a future present.

My Man, modern is but a word, don't take too literally.

Feel History's kiss, tender, passionate, or scary.

Reveal she'll, to one who listens, this perpetual story.

Your and Her work in progress - Mankind's symphony.

------------------------------------------------------------

Our history, for us, she spins

Our now, what we may become.

And how future eye imagines

Us, guess we may, for wisdom,

for finding posts and signs

to our address in Earth's kingdom.

But never ever forget,

O dear forgetful Poet,

In the longest scheme of things

- why that's history's history ! -

like a new diamond ring

pretty but carbon only,

(some twelve, thirteen some)

so are we specks lovely

of dust, flying casually,

In Time's vast vast Kingdom

On the spot

Put yourself on the spot,
To see what you're made of.

Memory of an Air Cooler

Sitting, smiling, shaking a memory half full,
my clock takes a break from regular schedule.
This train of thought, on a whimisical time,
Arrives at Past. That place of most charming clime.
Back home, back in school, in the summer times,
the empty school's joy fed our morning crimes.

And hot then used to be, and hotter still !
Yet - carefree abandon - we played until
Our legs took us home, our Ma's shouting shrill.
A happy shower followed. Then, our stomach ride thrill.

We lunched away glorious to our heart's absolute fill.
Soon sleep would beckon and we'd seek your saree's frill.
O Cooler ! So cozy was your nest by the window sill.

You cooled calmed cared, gave memories pleasant still !

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PS : again a 14-liner, not a Sonnet !

this meter business is such a headache :(

Might I borrow, as a template,

your pretty perfect poems, dear Mr. Seth ?!

A God concept

My God, I call it It.

Some call their God, Him.

Some others don't give a shit.

Probably God is but one's whim.

How do I describe It ?

It is all there is.

It is all there was.

It is all there will be.

It is the grand cosmos,

The potential of the universe.

Most magnificent it always was.

Most magnanimous it unfolds to us.

It, a part of you salutes thee !

Your beauty and majesty humbles. Soothes me.

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PS : Jonas's star, I liken IT to thee :)

Analysis and too much of it.

Analyse much my thoughts,

of this 'm guilty some days.

A confession of sorts,

'll write-confess, feel better today.

It gets to other selves,

I have no doubt. I try grudge not.

On days, it gets to m'self !

I try I try to stop.

Analysis, I love your company.

Be my friend. Don't misunderstand me.

But our friendship overdone and I'll crazy.

You're a mode but also a drug, believe you me.

Over-Analysis, you're surefire enemy !

You might win, hope not, but'll resist bravely.

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PS : a 14-line poem, not a Sonnet.
Mistakenly thought otherwise the poet,
until he learnt that the form is stricter,
battle he must the Iambic Pentameter !

Happy Birthdays

On a gone birthday,
a year not long gone,
thought -- though I was gay --
'twas no special occasion.

To be had realized today,
was that great gift - Reflection !
On years gone away
And years yet to come.

Yet it needs no ceremony,
this present for any mood.
'tis a celebration of Harmony !
Of Sentiments. Of Solitude.

Let us then, this Special anniversary
of birthing cute, innocent and nude,
spend in merry company
or perhaps, in silent gratitude.


-------------------------
around 4/1/10 (Apr 1, 2010)


Thank You, Dear Student
for being my muse.
Your sweet smiling sentiment
lit this mind's fuse.