R. P. Singh |
1. Squalor it sustains
Longing gives way
yet crimson comes the charm,
anxiety sobs smitten in bed,
valour so drifts apart.
Squalor it sustains,
so the ambitions…
envy with jealousy in fullest of the fun.
The wounds, there, flicker
yet no ointment’s demand.
May you have enjoyed the taste
painted lips just putting the stamp
the liquid throbbing up to the brim,
And the discourses on.
***
2. Ali Zaidi no more!
Ali Zaidi is no more.
From Victoria street
to Petersburg,
his thoughts complain
across the shore,
Ali Zaidi is no more!
A connoisseur of some warmer lot
a sickle estranged to cut itself
Ali Zaidi is no more...
He fought future,yet termed buffoon,
explained Banaras and Agha Meer,
Ali Zaidi is no more …
Success sees mirage to some
success, yet sustains on run.
For some it flows apart
slipping and saddling the counterpart.
The question is no more!
Boozing brackets have made a cross
protested word has felt like crossed,
contents too, perhaps no more
Ali Zaidi, no more.
Tremors, tortures,
some hidden under pass,
explained he Nazneens with sighs of Kimam,
a jocund philosopher
so termed a buffoon,
saga smothered his existence so soon!
***
3. This raining Sun
And so the stones of thought
this wet street
the sprawling park.
This raining Sun and charming charm
petals yet to yawn.
Falls clock tower,
raining streets to pebble,
yea, they bring some lazy songs
shadowed along.
Red stones, new red stones
and Asifi Imambara enclosed
petals, charms and songs
AND tales, and days,
they reel along.
***
4. The ten Biswa land
He grew
Yes, he grew
like the grey so hair,
the skull finding
convulsions of move,
he so grew from rustic to sod.
The ten Biswa land
brought several wheels,
and yes something more
but for Kanhai, peace is lost
and the Addas too.
***
5. Saddling fortune
He couldn’t afford more morsels
to sentiments
and to raven go around,
some more performance
before the full stop.
Dances he at the tune of mood
the nib, yet, strands to move.
A new romance
so seeds the brazen skull
chuckling sheathing jaws
so young
in the frenzied outbreak.
Bhullu so berserk
and so stranded
moaning, galloping
and in sights
saddling fortunes
for the nibs.
***
Thoughts wrapped in unbounded emotions and end , only to begin with.... great poetry!
ReplyDeleteEnthralling compositions by a versatile genius, Prof. Dr. RP Singh Sir. These collections are likely to be a guidance for the readers who go through them.
ReplyDeleteReading these compositions is a wonderful opportunity for me. These great works may provide great experiences for the reader, not only an emotional experience, but also a cultural experience. Thank you very much for sharing these poems. ЁЯЩПЁЯЩПЁЯМ╖
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