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Best Poems Written by Pramod Rastogi

Below are the all-time best Pramod Rastogi poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Pramod Rastogi Poem

My dad, my fascination

Dad, how much I loved you
You did not give me time to tell;
So quick was your way to depart
That sorrow and grief
That came my way
Are yet to breathe their last.

You knew how to play with me
Whenever I fell short of friends;
You knew how to never impose on me
Anything that I disliked;
You knew to take me out of punishment
The moment I had shed tears.

You knew to make me 
Holy and intelligent
By the examples you did set;
You knew to give me time 
Even if it was in short supply;
You knew to motivate me
By the inspiring deeds you did.

You knew to take interest in things
That were close to my heart;
You knew to show happiness
At each and every success,
That came my way in school.

Humble and generous you were
As none I have ever known;
The more I have dug deep
To unravel you,
With the brushes of my heart,
The higher have you grown
In my love and esteem.

Behind your gentle eyes
There was ever this much warmth
That knew to melt away
All traces of unhappiness
Clinging onto me
In my hours of despair,
And declare the spring of love and friendship
Even with all the ice strewn around.

Yet, you knew not to show me
Your pain and discomfort
As you plunged deep 
Into the woes of health
And breathed your last; 
My head bends to the Almighty
To have had been fathered
By a soul like you.
 

Copyright © Pramod Rastogi | Year Posted 2017



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Waiting for you, my baby

Ever since we know
That you are on your way
We have seen appear in our minds
A picture of yours
Which we paint each passing day
With the brushes of our emotions
And with the colors of our imaginations
On the canvases of our hearts,
Where each stroke is eyed 
For its telling details,
In rapturous bliss and 
Lingering mist of our eyes, 
And where the use of color
Seeks to stylize
The intense contours of love
We so ardently pour upon you
As we wait with bated breath
To seize the day
That you are born.

Copyright © Pramod Rastogi | Year Posted 2018

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The first buds of love

Attracted to her
Since my youth,
Like the unstoppable swerve
Of an iron filing
Towards a magnet,
I had left the reigns
Of my imagination free
To let it weave 
A necklace of poems
To glorify the mystery
I had seen hung around her.

Fear it was not,
When we had first met,
Yet, the words failed
To emerge from me
Pointless though 
They'd have been.
Such was the influence
Her presence had on me
That the silence 
Was the only edifice
I could rest upon
To feel the intensity
Of that instant
That had catapulted me
Into a state of love
And, its longings
That give it wings
I knew not 'til then.

Copyright © Pramod Rastogi | Year Posted 2017

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Silent Volcano

In a world where silence screams
To make hear its voice 
I have come across you
O Volcano Silent, a beauty sublime,
Ungraspable in imagination,
Lazing around in a lagoon blue, 
Interspersed with islets green,
Inside your caldera large,
Cast in the form of a diya
To lighten the world around
As if to make an offering
To the spirituality of this site,
A sight that I breathe
Walk as I on the rim upper
Of your crater green
One sunny summer day.
 
The breeze swept lagoon blue
Standing on the cusp of cooperation,
As if in a state of meditation,
With the winds of ebullition
Blowing through the earth's crust,
Has a message of tolerance wrapped up
For the human race, 
Irrespective the differences 
Separating its communities diverse,
It can find truce
And break boundaries
To together live 
In a space harmonious.  

Copyright © Pramod Rastogi | Year Posted 2019

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Grief outlasting the time

Dad, the pangs of sorrows
Pierced my Mom ceaselessly 
Like arrows in her heart, 
Caring and innocent, 
The day you left, years back, 
On your eternal journey
Leaving us all behind.

So much she loved you
She knew not to overcome
The grief that had laid her siege.
Marked by her mourning
That outlasted the time
I have no words to tell you
The anguish that was hers
All her life after your depart.

The day you left us
Had seen her life come apart;
Torn in shreds and pieces,
She saw the polar winter darkness
Set in the plains of her heart.
The life had caved in,
As the jaws of sorrow opened up
To engulf her alive
In their depthlessness unseen.

The violence of pain and shock 
That shook my mother’s life 
Had struck me dumb 
As she wept over
For days, months and years,
In a soul rending way;
Tears running in cascades
Over her cheeks, day and night, 
She knew not how to stop,
As all the desire to live
Had ebbed out from her.

Forty years have gone by
Since that fateful day;
My mother has also left us
To join you in eternal peace.
Still, my heart bleeds
As I remember 
The day of your depart
And the fountain of agony
Sprung out of my mother's heart,
To come dry
Only at her depart.

Standing alone in my thoughts
And in my grief, I pay homage 
To the true love that was theirs
To have let my mother keep alight
The candle of her love
That outlasting the time
She had lit for my father
Relentlessly all these years.

Copyright © Pramod Rastogi | Year Posted 2017



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Philosophizing

Times are straitened,
My pocket is tight
And a glass of brandy
Is hard to bargain
As speculators have poured in
Shouting ‘buy’, ‘buy’, ‘buy’.
 
Since the signal is out
The hoarders have barged in
And have emptied the market
Of all the brandy, including
The liquors that brandished
Even a semblance of flavor
Reminding the hordes of this brand.
 
Following the run on the brandy
Its prices have rocketed sky-high
But still the lover of this brand I am,
I emptied my purse
To offer myself a bottle of brandy.
 
Sipping the liquor in a glass
And immersed in happiness
I sat reinstated to my senses
And to the art of philosophizing
Wondering whether the glass
I held in my hand
Was half-full or half-empty.
 
Misfit to this art
But tied to reality
I sat there contently, gazing through
My half-filled glass
With intent and pride
Knowing that I didn’t have to complain
About things I can’t change. 

Copyright © Pramod Rastogi | Year Posted 2017

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Quake in the making

Sown by beings courageous
The seeds of unsayables
Streak across landscapes echoless,
Vast and conscious of our mindsets,
To sprout home a shift paradigm
That gives insights to the sightless, quake not,
And voices to the mute.

Copyright © Pramod Rastogi | Year Posted 2017

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Restlessness in a graveyard

The winter is sagging in strength
And wary is becoming the graveyard
Of its inhabitants, lying in their tombs,
As they seem to stretch themselves
Up from their wintery drowsiness
To embrace the signs of life
Defrosting leisurely from the fatigue 
In the vegetation around.
 
Soon will the greenery pick up
The trees will blossom
And the flowers will dance
To the songs of the birds
But the graveyard 
In all its loneliness still 
Would dare not shed
Caution to the wind
And risk its occupants,
Inspired by the sniff
Of the rejuvenation around,
Taste the nectar and walk away
Into the world outside
To be disdained as ghosts 
If ever they made their presence felt
By all those whom they had loved
With all their hearts
Before their final depart.

Copyright © Pramod Rastogi | Year Posted 2019

Details | Pramod Rastogi Poem

Soon it will be 2019

Soon it will be 2019,
As Santa Claus glides in
On his reindeer chariot
Millions of souls rejoice 
All around the world.
The year 2018, still holding 
Onto the world, in its embrace,
Has sounded its bugle of retreat
Sober and serene,
As if to atone silently
For all the hopes it carried
But failed to deliver along its way.

Still the year 2018 
Has plenty to celebrate,
Though the humility 
That flows in its veins ensures
The celebrations are in key low 
As it prepares to take its final bow
And retreat alike its predecessors 
Into the dustbin of history
To lay there at rest forever.

Soon it will be 2019,
News channels are abuzz
Flashing obituaries in piles
On what the year 2018 was
And what could it have been
As all await that instant 
It will breathe its last, and 
Will so usher in its successor
In a din of explosion
All in the cosmos of our minds.

The year 2019,
A year of new sprouting hopes
Where disappointments past
Will find solace in hopes new
Though much may change not
The time will move along at its rhythm
And what has to happen will happen
Without any fear of gain or loss. 

Copyright © Pramod Rastogi | Year Posted 2018

Details | Pramod Rastogi Poem

The squeal

Standing on the crest of my life
Reached with punch and some fire
Wonder I still, what the squeal 
Of the gate closing be like
Carrying as it might be 
A message lurking 
That the years of indulgence
Of running as free as a deer
On the highlands boundless
Of thoughts and abstraction
And of diligence and sweat 
Had run out of steam
To be never refired again
As in time would stop by
The Retirement, 
To take its final call.

Copyright © Pramod Rastogi | Year Posted 2019

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