Showing posts with label Prem Prakash Limbu. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Prem Prakash Limbu. Show all posts

Poetry: Prem Prakash Limbu

http://www.setumag.com/2017/09/Author-Prem-Prakash-Limbu.html
Prem Prakash Limbu


1.     WRINKLES ON MY GRANDMA

Oh! Grandma your wrinkles
Transcend the dead times
With folds of generations.
First folds from the virgin, verdant
Laborious hills of Dhojpur
Stalking down the treacherous, sinuous pony path
Through the square fields
Of golden paddy
Over the basking Balason
To Munglang
Where money grew
On the vastly spread of green crown
Of the migrated tea bushes
Under the flames of Siris
As believed.
Instead was whipped
And captivated to shiftless living.

There are folds of merry and melancholy
Within the nostalgic lines
Of unmanufactured dwellings
That had vines at their bamboo gates;
Trimmed fence of blooming hedges;
A rill escapading behind
With seasonal sprightly herrings;
Tall swaying coconut and betel-nut palms
In ambience of unity;
The smell still lingers
And enchants my mind
Though folded in wrinkles now.
Happenstance flee of the fourteen years old lass
Matured than age
In bloom of her lustrous youth
Like the radiant bud
That made our Grandfather love sick
And she too succumbed to his pious sin
Adding more folds of lives
On her cheek
But life never loitered there
Through oppressed tea bushes
Bearing the British lashes
Over her undestined fate
And corroding esteem
Unrealized Hope of her born breaths
Kept her watering the sowed seeds
With her untiring soul
To grow floating forests
Sinking into the future
With flushed new born leaves
I can read all in her folded skin.

2. CARBON SMOKE
I feel
I gambol after a tractor again
Through the dusty lane
Along the terrai tea-bushes
As dense fog of dust arose
When trotted by
We hustled and bustled
To sniff that carbon filled diesel
That burnt evil dark smoke
Which my naughty Grandfather
A Goodrick driver
Fed our eerie addiction.

3. FRIENDSHIP
Whatever the roots may be
Or the destination be
It is glory to be a flock
Though in contrast may our character be
Shapes, appearances, races different
Yet when one cries, the other cries
When one laughs, the other laughs
When one falls, the other falls
That’s how friends bond.
No matter what conspired storms may drift in
Clutched on one stem of trust and belief
Withstand them and make merry
Even when everything’s wrong
Graciously bloom together
Petals to petals bond
That’s how friends bond.

4. RIDE
I wish to take you for a ride all through the paradise, My lad
And you like me take others
No gust no speed can shake you
As my chest would be spread ahead you
Be beside me and learn to tame the restive stallion
That will ride all through the paradise, My lad
I see there comes a paradise guarded by a dragon.

5. CONFLUENCE
Teesta Rangeet confluence
Ever flowing, unending journey
Both from unknown terrain
Meets to be one
And powerfully flows
Under bridges innumerable
That connects souls apart
Towards its destination
A message for every lives.

Lives merge into Death
Happiness merges into sorrow
And tranquilly spreads into space
With invisible souls with wings
Holding nothingness
With tributaries of reminiscence
Flooding the banks of eyes
Confluence of rise and fall
A message for every lives.

Poetry: Prem Prakash Limbu

http://www.setumag.com/2017/09/Author-Prem-Prakash-Limbu.html
Prem Prakash Limbu
HAIKUS

Night expands
dewdrops tinkle out
--- winter laughs in.

Sun wakes late
with gloomy lazy yawn
---body loathes out.

  Damp earth around
  Sip hot tea at cozy bed
---wake up and work.

The fireflies wake
with luminous lanterns
---to guard flowers.

The hooting owls
warn the presence of the ghosts
---to let trees sleep.

Autumn dissects leaves
that turns annoyingly dead pale
---welcomes new morning.

From the violet’s womb
glowed a burning flame of love
---on the hazy earth.

Spring spreads its palette
paints the hopeful blossoms of joy
---why does storm sting?
Embracing eachother
blooms in the same pot brightly
---a friendship lesson.

My dandelion
spreads her silky glossy hair
---at the fresh sunrise.

With tickling silhouette
blood wine fills the sky till brim
---enchanting my heart.

SENRYUS

On bald shiny head
the sprinter housefly that slips
---the old lazy man.

Buzzing mosquito
kisses my face and sucks blood
---Smack! And tastes its fate.


Fish in the water
gambols with balletic move
---why ever thirsty?

Thin legs in big boots
Plok! went into the puddle
---drying his wet socks.

The lonely heron
Contemplating enigma
---the jeering morsels.

Those broken baby toys
are caged in the dark attic
---freedom flew away. 

Prem Prakash Limbu

Prem Prakash Limbu is an aspiring agent among the embezzled thoughts in strive to accomplish the explanation of the world in its clearest form. He is a bilingual poet, writer and translator. He is from a small town Mirik in Darjeeling and presently employed as Vice Principal in Shree Padmaprava Digamber Jain Vidyalaya in Murshidabad, West Bengal with self-conscience to develop literary concern in people. His motive is to reflect existentialism and seek for untouched subjects in the world.

His works have been published in Coldnoon Diaries and Eastlit Journal.

Poetry - Prem Prakash Limbu

http://www.setumag.com/2017/09/Author-Prem-Prakash-Limbu.html
Prem Prakash Limbu

BRIDGE

I wish I could build
A modest bridge
Across
The limitless spatial sky
Kiss the illusive horizon
And satiate
The thirsty ends
That seem endless.

THE PLIGHT OF THE SHOES

There was a time

When I lived in shine
Within the glassy glossy palace
Lusted and envied by every passers-by
Like the Superstar on the red carpet
Unknown of the fate
Now I’m worn out
Lying in a dusty corner.

However costly or glossy
You may look
They’ll wear you out after all
Till the base is plain
And the skin is pealed
Fallen apart your parts
I lie in a dusty corner.

When young and sturdy
They boast your brand and luster
When the path beset with thorns
Selfishly wear to tread on
To all directions and terrain
Till they find unmatched and aged
Then you reside in cruel isolation
With crowd around
Around a dusty corner.

Now I live a life in contemplation
All ignored; All alone
Among the colourful ignorant soles.

Note: This poem is a metaphor to the plight of those aged parents who are
discarded of love and acceptance by their siblings. And this is the bitter truth of the
civilized world which we illusively consider.

ILLUSION OR CHALLENGE

Where do you rise to?
What do you hail for?
In front of an azure screen
Where fluffy white ghosts stroll
They haven’t turned evil and dark
They do come with both
Adversity and Fortune
But they are blind
A question to your hope
And a test to your being
Whether you rise or fall
I can see you strain to fly so high
With numerous tiny wings
Attached side to side
Into the empty sky

I don’t know why
I see you weary with neck bent
Or you’re humble
Looking upon many as you
But this is better
All in embrace and love
Than the empty sky above.