Tapeshwar Prasad (Voices Within)

Tapeshwar Prasad has authored blend of five surrealistic and realistic poetry books, and has been featured in Camel Saloon (U.K.), Cordite Poetry Review (Australia), The Aquillrelle Wall of Poetry, Crashing Waves (USA), Scaling Heights (an Anthology on Contemporary Indian English Poetry), inklinks, Anthesis, Episteme, Heavenly Hymns, I am A Poet, Just for you My Love, Kaafiyana, Resonance, The Significant Anthology, Rhyme with Reason, World Anthology of English Poetry, Acerbic Anthology, Mandela Tributes, Whispering Winds, Intercontinental Anthology of Poetry on Universal Peace, Hall of Poets and many more. He has been included thrice as ICOP: Roll of Honour (U.K.)

Way of the world

I was not familiar
with this co-walker on my morning walk
Who was striding slowly, barefoot 
on a long two tiled bridge -
a road and the rail lines under it 

But, his act of finishing his thoughts
and starting it again 
drew me a little closer to him -
and I nearly paused my steps further
to listen to his less comprehensible sentences -
Meaningful et al 

I knew
I was getting closer to him 
by his truthful utterance -
as he was slicing it part by part
He was ragged, and grey of hair
Stinking badly, but
of a princely milieu 

I took pause
Under His guidance
and thought about the way of the world -
Those who are self proclaimed rich, have little of their own
Those who are ragged, have all the wisdom to share 

Nothing extra

He has shawled himself, nakedly
longer into this thorny chilly nights
with trembling fingers
bodily squeezed in cold grip around

Penniless he survives
the onslaught of rising inflation:
Edibles smoulder heavily and a unit
of blood costs more than a bargain
A toothless suitor to his own poverty

Pleasantly he shakes his head quixotically
Shrugging off reality from his thoughts
Believing that tomorrow, when his hospital
will charge a hefty medical bill

He will promptly reply to his doctor
wagging his tail:
Was he not in remembrance, that many a times at the construction site
He had laboured more to his hospital with sweat and salt
And demanded nothing extra

Painful riches

She has been doing it
for quiet some time
in the garb of a faint smile
All these years, and before
She could strain herself
to sieve in her pain
Guarding her happier moments
Lest, it must not erupt 
Wailing those unforgettable torment
She would always lure herself 
into a sobering smile, that
on a casket of painful riches
that she could trust,
She could do onto her
What a lost memory could do 
to herself -
As she has been doing this

since her memory was gone

Voices Within-2020 :: Setu, February 2020

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