Home » Poems » Best » Neelamani Sutar » Best Neelamani Sutar Poems

Best Poems Written by Neelamani Sutar

Below are the all-time best Neelamani Sutar poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Neelamani Sutar Poem

Self Identity

I can’t be a human being
All efforts went fruitless.
‘Being Human’ is now
A day dream !

I turned into a stormy wind – a tempest
Destroyed nature, devasted biodiversity
Killed animals brutally.
I transformed into a goblin,
Feared to look at my shadow
Feared to face myself,
Always kept myself inside mask !

I’m a wretch humanity, they say.
Now I’m roaming hesitatingly
In quest of peace, in quest of Utopia !
People say me, ‘Mr Brutus !’

Sorrows and sufferings are now my parents,
Pains, lamenting and humiliations
Are my kiths and Kins,
Woe is my wife,
Myself is non-entity element !

I did not drench myself in moonlight
Did not look at the blue sky
Did not keep my environment clean and green.
Below the boughs of inferiority Complex tree,
I am now shedding ceaseless tear !

I’am a hatred and lost star
A falling comet that still shines
Trying to exist !

Details | Neelamani Sutar Poem

I Want Peace

Let me have a sparkle of fire,
a fire what can burn
all anger into ashes.

Let me have a strong weapon
with which I can destroy
terrorism, racism and all evil deeds,
Earth would be completely free.

Let me have a pen,
also some magical ink
as I want to compose eternal song
to let peace prevail everywhere.

Let me have a brush
color and canvas
to draw and paint
The landscape of peace and ecstasy.

Let me have a drop of water
with it, I can wipe out sins
and I need a river
what can wash away all hunger
and peace would overflow everywhere.

Let me have sword or gun
to shoot out all misbelieves
from mankind.

Let me have a woman
who would give birth to another Jesus
to spread message of peace on earth.

Details | Neelamani Sutar Poem

My Father and a Ray of Hope

With a huge geometry of bones and ribs
my father stands amidst us,
like an age-old iron pillar,
high durable, tensile and unbrittle
he is, the lonesome cantilever.

Though I know not,
perhaps he could be in immense pain,
or suffering from his terrible wounds;
but neither I feel nor touch
as I fear;
may be I his last crutch
or be the solve of sandal paste
on this body for ever.

Though I know nothing,
perhaps, for the sake of ‘oil and salt’ world;
he’d be even ready
to sleep on the bed of thousand arrows
and at the same time
he hides every sensitive worldly elements 
within him, as far as
a star fish does every time
when it comes across a danger.

And always, I cannot move over
to his world of desires,
it’s the same show
the same grief
day after day.


The foot prints of his journey through life
are not lost in the sand storms of poverty
and in my mind as well.
Like the third bank of ever flowing river
Like a lonely Oar of way lost solitary boat
Like a distant star in the dark sky
Like a defiant soldier in battlefield 
My father-
with dry tears and black blood
in his toil and lethal hands
continues his combat fight
against treacherous time
and treadle fate.

And with a twingle of hope against hope,
I feel every odds of life
and promise to myself a thousand times
‘I can be a nearby dawn
to remove the everlasting dark night’,
as  my thoughts don’t go
with the distanced sun.

Details | Neelamani Sutar Poem

Ice Age

Try to open your third eye
Sharp your sixth sense
You can clearly see
This earth is still passing through ice-age.

People would say
This summer was the hottest ever!
If you’d inquire, you must see
The sun is now heatless
Not able to melt the deposited ice
Of this helpless earth.
Who knows when these fossils would get back
Their lives, how ?
Who knows, after stepping up how many stairs
Life would take the shape of human ?

Who can predict the exact moment
When this civilization would reach
At the zenith position of the square
In the lightless sky
When would this indolent sun
Burn the impurities of million hearts ?

Oh! The belated winter is unbearable
Fear in my body
Impotence in my flesh
I’m collecting my bones
To set fire and burn my soul.
One day ashes of my body would be deposited
Under the igneous rock
To irrupt as a Volcano.

Details | Neelamani Sutar Poem

Tale of a Peasant

He lives there, where people love
Land as mother, worship agriculture

People of his nation, after independence
brought green, white, yellow, blue revolutions
to meet with the crisis of food
to wipe out hunger
to up root poverty.

He tills his mother earth
carries plough on his shoulder
sheds his sweats
turns himself into soil.

After a year of severe flood,
several children of his homeland
are at risk of death
due to lack of proper nutrition.
He returns from his polluted land
carrying a basket on his shoulder
full of golden harvest.

Flood stricken cornfields
Harvests destroyed, paddy fields washed
yet he carries food grains on his shoulder
The cattle Kraals are empty
The goats gaunt
No protein food for children
but he is carrying a basket
full of golden harvest.

In his motherland
where people worship food as god
Through away it and feel proud for it
where some people also search dustbins
madly hoping a handful of stale rice
to do away with their hunger.

The experts do research on cropping
Those with power keep their power.
Only he, the nominal farmer
trusts himself with earth’s treasure
is carrying a basket full of golden harvest
on his shoulder.

The sun does not dissuade him,
nor the water logging
that blows against him
as he ploughs barren land,
grows golden harvests
on the other hand,
drowns into the deep sea of loans
beaten by poverty.

He feeds the nation,
cannot feed his family.
He trusts his hand for his countrymen 
what they used now,
but cannot do his family and himself.
Between life and death,
he is carrying a basket on his one shoulder
full of golden harvest
carries fear of suicide on his other shoulder.

Details | Neelamani Sutar Poem

Respect Woman

Extinguish all lights of the world
dark will prevail everywhere.
Can you extinguish dark ?
If so, what will prevail then ?

Kill or destroy all men
from this earth’s crust
you will see no difference
the earth will exist 
the air will blow
the water will flow.

But, will the earth exist sans woman ?
Mother, sister, wife, daughter :
A woman has many faces, many shapes.
She is incarnation of three earthly elements :
Love, affection and compassion.

Her love makes your life 
Luxurious, ease and enjoyable.
When she waves the tip of her saree
heaps of affection trickle down
as flowers of eternal bliss.

Every moment you dive
into the ever flowing river
of her compassion,
you feel the touch of water.

Woman is the beautiful creation of God
worship her with flowers of your heart.

Woman is the delightful dream of nature
bring her dreams into reality
with your love and care.

Woman is the epithet of this earth
nourish her with faith and belief.

Woman is an indispensible assets of life
keep her in the hidden treasure of your heart.

Details | Neelamani Sutar Poem

Spring

Bathed in nectar dew drops, now
the damsel spring stealthily 
tiptoes into the hamlet
with all its strength.

The south breeze plays
fifth symphony on tender new leaves,
flings the grey garment of fugitive winter
on the tether of time.
The red modesty of cassia flowers
lazily thrown on the elevations,
sheuli flower hides her whitish face
in dark screen.
Forest being released from solitary confinement
bedecks with colors of nature
snow white swans conquest the copper sky
Jasmine frequently haunts dark nights.

The sun rises
on the forehead of a newlywed bride
as if it is a circular spot of vermilion.
Man in remaining incognito
for years, has come back
to the war fields of life,
perhaps he wants to pay
his debts of soul.

Somebody, in quest of a blue envelope
tinted with multicolor of unknown flowers
but the letter box of young heart
wide open, as the darkness of suspicion
has broken its lock,
the love knots of past love
lost in the time treacherous sand
anxiously asks for identity.

Still on the debris of sand castle
built of hopes and promises,
a young poet composes a lyric
with inks of blood and shades of despair
his pen of eternal pain proclaims,
“Spring has set in again
to solace thousands of broken hearts.”

Details | Neelamani Sutar Poem

First Love

First shower of early monsoon
Petals of first Kadamb flower
Purple rays of dawn
Fluttering of virgin butterflies
Eagerly waiting to touch you !

I see scratches of lusty rain
Clearly visible on your
Red lac juice tinted milky skin
Your sky blue saree-
Looks as if a reptile in deep slumber !

On that very day
When you first, fluttering your lips
Told me, “I love you !”
Is still echoing in my heart.

Today,
No moon on the head of my sky 
Ceaseless rain beside my window pan
High waves of pangs of separation 
In my heart,
Timber of fifth symphony
In the wind of my nerve-city !

In the spill-over flood of lightening 
Floats my soul, my body, my desire;
I’m now at the end of my salad days
In sought of line of control
Of my feelings; fate – the game changer
Never allows me to cross the border
Of fortune !

Tell me, O’ damsel –
Where would I go ?
Where would I pluck thy ever blooming lotus ?
Where would I stay ?
What’s my final destination ?

Here, everywhere snowflakes of frustration
Everywhere mirages of romance,
In yellow rays of fugitive dusk
Capers your first touch,
Dazzles your first love !
I fear to wipe out dusts of my past
From the face of my mind mirror !!

Petals of that first Kadamb flower
First shower of that early monsoon
Which one day drenched your sky blue saree
Is now a phantom !

Details | Neelamani Sutar Poem

Creation

Desire and lust
Spread everywhere
As if sand of a desert.

Climbing up a slippery tree
A naughty boy lucks green guavas.

Standing before a mirror
An impotent colors his white hair
To feel false taste of fugitive youth.

With anxiety, the hungry earth
Asks the greedy sun
To know her identity.

What aptness spreads
Brightness in the solar system ?
Planets, satellites, stars-all are curious.
With mouth broad open
Black holes look blank !
Who is he, running on the milky way ?

Somewhere, perhaps a helpless woman
After satisfying the lust of a libertine
Picks up her saree to hide her womanhood.

Details | Neelamani Sutar Poem

Tale of a Hill

Peace is no more on the hill
Forest Fire in innocent eyes
I ask myself : who wiped out greenery ?
The bountiful landscape devoid of luster.

Red charcoal blazing on the red-carpet
The tribe’s damsel hammers
Her fate into sheets of sorrows.
Tremors of fear trickles down her cheeks.
Floats smell of gun powder
Over the small hamlets of the hill.
The sky above is within its limit.
Serenity is no more, there…..

Terrorism, a tiger in every tunnel
Wagon loaded dreams of life
Stops there to rest a while !
Shukrijani, the young vibrant tribe guy
Refreshes his AK-47,
Ridicules at old bow and arrows
Mysterious mustache on his oval face.
He Knows nothing of humanity
He is trained to kill humans.

The hill is no more a hill
No more abode of peace !
Old mother of Shukrijani folding her shivering hands.

Prays God: we want tranquility,
We want peace !
Inertia of unknown identity plays hide and seek.

The tribe’s damsel prays :
O’ God of my fate,
Transform me into mother Mary
I want to give birth
Another Jesus to bring
Peace and harmony down to earth !