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Sandeep Kumar Mishra Poem
My Gallery
In upper part of my body
A cognitive bell rings
From a dial-up connection
of live wires
The modem is working just
To repeatedly provide
the facsimile of
Barren and bald paths
Inner lumbering of daily freight
Coiling, clutching upward
There is no vivacity
The vital force has parasited
How I inhale life?
My days and nights are bolted
Inside a brain cell,
My voice has held back
It lays a plan to brawl my soul
Residing in my own skull
Dictates notes imitating my tone
I couldn’t disintegrate my recall
As my shadow has left me
There remains Just I, me and myself,
Why is my brain a black hole?
Could it not be a universe?
Of a constellation of migraine, tablets
Syringe, backache and insomnia
Dream has become a dead pattern
As worn out as fossil led glow
Everything has become identical
Except the weight of consequence
That has variations of endurance
As I go through perdition
My imbalance will be rectified
Hang my art on the wall
As after allotted time
My gallery will end
Copyright © Sandeep Kumar Mishra | Year Posted 2018
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Sandeep Kumar Mishra Poem
When my hollow present blows
The dying embers in the heart grate
A fond childish Cinders glows up
The frozen black memory melts past colours,
A sparkle of rainbow recollections,
As I walk up on our trodden pavement
I saw a slash of sea between houses
Thy red dress like a bright red boat
Sink in golden sand, blue fishing nets
Brown fort walls, green lichen beach,
My soul speaks, my lips moves
A frequency of meetings, a wave of hugs
As I net to catch these moments
Like A street urchin’s yellow fists
Holding the rainbow in his tiny grasp
Copyright © Sandeep Kumar Mishra | Year Posted 2019
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Sandeep Kumar Mishra Poem
The Death of the River
When I see the mirror
I can see the inner working of my machinery,
Look my mental wire renders images of worn out routes after a short circuit happened in the pathways of daily burdens
My diseased body quivers with its weight of hard stitch skin snatched-rubbles leeched of life force as I have little energy to breath
The voice I hear is not my own, It dictates notes in familiar tones But full of foreign phrases, which it disguises as invitation
I wish I could dissolve myself from memory
or hide in my skull cave, But it is not wise to stifle,
Then an unlearned laughter came A spring brings the sun rays
A sea emerges from the death of the river There are two ways to live a life I can pursue the difficult one
Copyright © Sandeep Kumar Mishra | Year Posted 2019
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Sandeep Kumar Mishra Poem
My father never wasted time in taking
his kids in his lap or playing with them,
he was busy in breaking mirrors, hitting the doors
or his head against a wall or slapping his children
or abusing everyone when helplessness trapped him in
the web of poverty, illness and unfulfilled desires
Orthodox and religionist in him
taught us all superstitions,
and made him a sage devoid of social life,
and me, almost an atheist,
He taught us good values without
letting us in his room
We had seen him write poems,
We were not part of his universe,
The world may be familiar with his work,
but we haven't read his books as
we have developed immunity to it,
As a good teacher, he changed
many schools and as an honest person,
he rarely attended any social gatherings
He didn't tell us our history or geography,
Oblivious of siblings,
locked in a closed family circle,
ignorant of our community,
we live at the borders of our social circle now
When I see any kid, I wish to be with my father,
Talk, learn and serve him but still I lack a bond,
I haven't seen him for long time
and never feel a need or pain of it
He is counting his time,
his legacy some published books
and unpublished manuscripts
lying in a store almirah,
The long gap between us stops me
to take those few steps,
It seems a long journey
Upbringing and luck shapes our life,
my father was child of his misfortune
and I am child of my father
Copyright © Sandeep Kumar Mishra | Year Posted 2021
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Sandeep Kumar Mishra Poem
Why are we shocked
with the space we owe?
Conveys with it a specific frustration
With not a single companion to have,
But how little we need to bring
The main exhilaration that exists,
Is the exhilaration we've carried with us
Frangipanis outside needs thy steady acclaim,
The inflated shafts, once a primary fascination
Looks fit for somebody other than me
Still it’s mine
Now I think It
Will be known by the art we hang
May be that is the reason
Wherever we go nowadays
Vanity has tailed us like a pet
When we believe in anecdotes
Than worldly companions can never be ours
I feel that with a house this way,
I should set up a major gathering
That would please with vulnerabilities of night,
And simply attempt to settle in
As everybody, even in his own space, is a vexed visitor
Copyright © Sandeep Kumar Mishra | Year Posted 2018
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Sandeep Kumar Mishra Poem
When I goggle at the screen
Of wild black yonder,
O Stars! I feel a blazing avidity
In my vital limbs
Elan eyes of the angels,
Invested in with thousand finesses,
Show your cloudless sparkle to
the ignorant world
The magnetic star adjacent the Moon
to guide the sailor way out,
My heart responds to
thy flickering with life,
You ignites my bituminous soul,
With an immortal spark
Copyright © Sandeep Kumar Mishra | Year Posted 2020
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