Marriage is a business
There's no shortcut to anything
Marriage is originally reorganization of two family resources
This isn't a shortcut at all
This is called giving up the small for the big
You should render great love in your heart
You should render the spirit of sacrifice and dedication
You have to sacrifice your own whims and caprices in marriage
Definitely, to both party's happiness and success.
Joseph had a dream
He innocently shared it with his family
Little did he realize that he was hated by his Siblings
For he was their father’s favorite
And frequently brought their misdeeds to him
His dream further incensed his brothers
And turned them to dream breakers
But the father of all dreams was on Joseph’s side
And so his dream did not succumb to hatred
Nor to the whims and caprices of haters
Cause whom the lord has blessed
No man can curse
Dream breakers can only try
But God has the only say and authority
For Joseph’s dream was not of his creation
But God’s own vision for humanity
Whose psyche has come to my physique? Do I ever know?
I accept it as a stream accepts the fresh rain and flow.
In Ram, Rahim, and Robert, Rajeet this soul might have been
Did this dwell in Buddha and Jesus in a form unseen?
How many bodies had merged with the dust like earthen pots?
How, like feeble flies, has it passed through many throttling knots?
Did I get through any fragrant flowers and fleshy fruit?
Did I breathe through violin, guitar, sitar, flute, and lute?
Entwined amidst meaninglessness are wisdom and reason
Amidst winter, fall, monsoon, and summer, there's the spring season.
When absurd ends put a pause on flawlessly flowing streams
As though after dreams, before me dawn rays of rainbow beams
Peace, bliss, Nirvana, liberation, or transformation
New life, new hope, resurrection, or resuscitation
Concepts, caprices, conceits, and convictions could continue
Life, yet, like a fountain in flux, would secrete nectar new
Those who wage war
In search for peace
Are the leaders
They are not
In the battlefield
Warriors are pawns
For lunatic king
To gain power
And accessibility
Those who has more
Ammunition has
A chance to win
The leader who wage
War actually don't want peace
Instead, to them are just
Whims and caprices
Fence ego and lavish pride.
For whom, we all have seen the earth's light,
He is Father;who has made our life so bright.
For him only we can spend our life comfortably
And he is the one,who carries all burden silently.
The person is father,who indulges our all caprices;
And tries to keep wholeheartedly his promises.
After seeing father, a little child prances like a colt
Father is the one who corrects our fault.
Bearing with all troubles, he protects his family,
Only he knows very well the agony.
Father is the person who never wants to see our dismay,
So let us celebrate together the "Father's Day"
Per drawn orphic sight, a ringed rainbow moon.
Feather swims in a vagrant squall, plummets,
burden bobbing outstretched like some mushroom,
spirals expel rippled waves pirouettes.
Aurora whisper opportune saffron,
forge balms beam strands to aerate crown's vastness,
errant gasp caught in raptured mist, lissome
Brief rain on lain shape of the gods vanish.
Pristine manna with a sigh midst hollow,
steep in prismatic poise purged euphoric.
Voice guides dulcet zephyrs to arousal.
Imagery caprices waft chimeric.
Vesper, yon the zenith of Terra's, take,
occasions a sign as moonglade o'er lake.
perfect cone, hides its beauty from whims, caprices of humanity.
All my hopes look like kites,
ropes of which have already broken,
flying idly about in the sky of my mind,
They will either glide
through the heavy clouds
of my thoughts, and land softly
before evolving into caprices;
or fell one by one and smash to tiny pieces
Far away in the West,
Far far away from my cuddles and caresses,
Lives my son,
Where rapid is the rise of the sun, where the sun is remiss to rest.
Where he is surmounting over all tides and tempest, searing snares and savoring success.
Where the winds herald his coming, where friends and foes at his behest.
Far away in the West,
Far far away from my cadences and caprices,
Lives my son,
In the land of dazzle, land of dare,
Land of fortune, land of absolute air,
Land of inventions, land of brewing beer.
Far away in the West,
Far far away from my dirge and distress,
Lives my son,
His dreams- a swift sturdy stallion,
Now smother him and saddle him towards shallow success.
The land where he once spent debonair doting days with me, is now a bygone ghostly galleon.
Far away in the West,
Far far away from my tears and trinkets,
My son , let me live in your heart’s undefiled chamber and let me glide in your soul’s virgin glade.
Saptarshi Mukherjee
Think of elsewhere
where the day
has grown old
perhaps with a remembrance
of what has trespassed
concerning what now goes
throughout these hours here.
Now what does it fit
to cry by uprooting trees
or cry by wrong paintings
or cry by a wrong directives
or even cry by whims
and caprices of abyssimal
or in fact even wrongly cry
oh! later you may
swallow it a going.
C’est derrière moi
j’aurais pu
être plus gentille
possiblement
j’aurais pu
réagir avec plus de délicatesse
j’aurais pu
possiblement
fléchir à tes caprices
être plus sympathique
j’aurais pu
j’aurais dû
peut-être
mais quelle espèce d’ami as-tu été
quand tu t’amusais à tordre tout
tu interprétais tout croche
mes mots mes regards mes opinions
aucune chance de m’expliquer
bien au contraire si froid
tout noir ou blanc sans compromis
le dialogue inexistant
la porte fermée à toute discussion
juge et jury
grossier et vulgaire
tout simplement
sec et superficiel
rigide et arrogant
rien de moins qu’un abruti
vraiment
j’ai de moins en moins de temps
pour les gens artificiels
Translated from my poem BURNT BRIDGES
AP: Honorable Mention 2022
Tryst edged ... Aurora whisper serendipitous saffrons,
e'er forging balms beamish strands to aerate crown's expanse, whilst bestrewn
lissome mists waltzes amongst errant gasp caught in rapture.
An ephemeral cloudburst evaporates on supine
silhouettes of the gods. Pristine manna with a sigh ... midst hollow
utter, guides dulcet zephyrs to petrichor arousals.
Purged euphoric realm steep in its prismatic solitude
poise, waft chimerical imagery effervescent caprices,
volley afar ... harks labyrinths mellifluous murmur.
Vesper, yon the zenith of Terra, breathe his claim toward
the cosmos, granting resplendent panacea a vestured vault,
... occasions an epiphany as moonglade o'er a lake.
Today held many a smile, wide ones,
blazing under the cloudless heavens.
I put off thoughts of the date -
those musings are for the evening.
Today held my attention, with tasks,
so that my mind wouldn't wander.
I deferred memories unasked for -
remember them in the evening.
Today held good tidings, days awaited,
a personal pratique in times of pandemic.
I tabled tremors and tears impending -
save every one for the evening.
Now 'tis the evening,
and rain has come from that blue sky.
That family not of blood, but of bonds,
smiling behind my eyes but not before them.
Now 'tis the evening,
and my heart has cast adrift.
All we spoke of was one day going home,
and a part of me stayed with those who never can.
Now 'tis the evening,
and I await the next solemn messenger.
A new name is drawn in alternating years,
so I dread the list when next I see this day.
Here I am at the close of this weighty day
considering this world's caprices,
such that I've had nearly more time and memory
with the graves than with the men.
I held the day's soul long at bay -
but now 'tis the evening.
A plate of hunger unsavoury to taste
My belly groans,worms meander in haste
once upon a dream packed with love and care a meal I wish
Unfair a reality of a belly inflated not with a dish
Too much of too little have I had,malnourishment have become my niche
Posterity they call me yet I'm ailed with deficiency
How do I lead a future plagued with insufficiency?
Basic necessities I lack
Bones so weak to play,shacking like I carry a hump on my back
Grateful for the next scrap,absurd is the word "snack"
Secure me a future as you build me a present deliciously prepared like a good meal
Nurture my soul,nourish my brain,protect my innocence I appeal
An epicure I'm not simply school me in the six food classes
Austerity I will bear just never let me miss my classes
Yearning for a world of abundance,good food and fruits are my caprices.
How the seal of love duly abides
blossoming when the seasons grow lush,
and amiable on its first chapters of ecstasy—
like glorious serenades as flames ignite
the enchantment of newborn caprices;
Yet, ordeals mount after time unveils what’s real--
only to disconnect from life’s fragile weave
if mere pinpoint of vowed threads gets sewn
around it, not for the value within for ‘better or worse’ ...
Love based on mythical ideas can be
easily crushed --even razed to the ground
when ordeals persist one after another,
when the absence of tolerance rules—
as hearts embrace discontentment, wrath
instead of upholding the very reason for ardency's BEING:
Somehow , conditional love is not enough
where the mettle of true devotion begs unceasingly
for strength of will to handle the most challenging
adversities.. and only then can two souls
be bound by deep fervor prevailing through an oath
subjected to evening chills--
this unequivocal fealty heaven cannot ever deny.
---------------------
9/10/2019
Silent One's Contest
Sometimes Love Is Not Enough
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