Short Saree Poems

when earth wears
lemon yellow saree
trees adorn gold...

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Happy-go-lucky, a phrase describing old me
Not a care to speak of, a happy club emcee
Making tons of bucks
Running amuck
Tossing flowers and wearing a polka dot saree...

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Number 12: Bet you just realized that was downright silly
Twelve comes after ten by about two or three
Failed mathematics
Also acrobatics
Once fell on my keister ripping my pretty silk saree...

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Dressed
in hues
of russet,
crimson and gold,
the Indian bride
captivates everyone.
Her starched saree rustles
as I walk over
it with barefoot.
Cool breeze, bright
sun bless
her.
~~~
16.09.2021
For :
Malabika Ray Choudhury
MERSE - Beauty Of Fall
...

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1

sunflowers ring
teenagers ChatGPT
Sapphic know-how

2
her décolleté blouse
and see-through saree—
curve’s vanity

3
a curled snake
with fangs ready to poison
love’s narrow passage

4
sky’s canvas-
disfigures in no time
my funny face

5
she wrings her hair
rising from the lake:
rural Venus


--R.K.Singh
...

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My sister made me see lavender

That day in December, 

Twenty-nine gifts show her heart's tender;

A time to remember

That silk saree and thank gift sender. 




14th December 2022

(She gave me 29 gifts, all in different shades of violet, my favourite colour. The silk saree is one of them and my favourite) 



For Andrea Dietrich's contest...

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SWEAT
         -----
HIS ALL ALONG THE BODY IS WITH FULL OF SWEAT
SHE LOVES HIM AND KISSED HIM 
HIS SWEATTING IS FROM HIS WORK
SHE LOVES HIM AS APART FROM THE WORDS
HER FOOD AND DRESS IS FROM THAT MANLY SWEAT
HER SAREE ENDS ARE WAITTING TO TOUCH UP HIS FACE
HER HANDS ARE ALSO WAITTING TO HIM
SHE IS HIS BETTER HALF OFCOURSE|

ABI SAKTHI RAVICHANDRAN  MA PGDCA   INDIAN ENGLISH POET...

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Blue mountain

drenched with mist 
a cascade of water falling from a height
caverns are gems
'The Abode of Clouds'
A wench draped in hoary saree
All wetted and portraits like 
A forest stream 
Curved and silhouette
Calmed in her mayhem 
Years passed by
But was struck by her beauty
She wore the bijouterie
Called nath
The blue mountain is the deepest hue of her nath
Was her only possess...

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What a time in a day!
When sun takes rest
And moon becomes the king
Stars warrior become inspiration
To many poets, astrologer
Peace spreads its Saree
To protect ears, rest mind
When learners learn, lovers love
When whites shine, milky way
When earth sleeps, hearts awake
This is the time truly brilliant.

                                           by:-
                                           Vrushani Thaker...

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House turns into brothel today, near and dear seems prostitute
glory of saree has lost in clownish luxury, lost their gentle look.
Facebook and Messenger continue to serve them freely thereon
dating, chatting and adultery shows barbarian prostitution.
How will they open cloths! If there any cloth on the breast!
pussy is open without pounds! for rice only prostitute try their best.

N.B. This is the translated form of one of my poetry written in Bengali language....

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Today I came out from 
monotonousness 
stepped into old slippers
loose slack shirt
and in one old trousers
no deodorants encircled
my presence
let the sweat smell
I could feel the real me,
walked out in midday Sun
AC sensitized skin, burnt
to fumes, real me exposed,
I saw a man digging roadside
canal, his wife sitting with kid
on her lap hidden under her 
saree sucking breast,
Sun couldn't burn them,
I burnt from inside
and outside, felt 
the odour of me......

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Today I came out from 
monotonousness 
stepped into old slippers
loose slack shirt
and in one old trousers
no deodorants encircled
my presence
let the sweat smell
I could feel the real me,
walked out in midday Sun
AC sensitized skin, burnt
to fumes, real me exposed,
I saw a man digging roadside
canal, his wife sitting with kid
on her lap hidden under her 
saree sucking breast,
Sun couldn't burn them,
I burnt from inside
and outside, felt 
the odour of me......

Read More