My fog poems
Fog
wish
When
the fog is spread around Dew falling on chilling spree
Making the the limbs numb
The traces of soot and smog of the last evening
Still
writ on the unshaven faces
Hardly
any ray of hope for the buds to come out of still slumber Will it not look just
formal
To wish good morning !
The
weathermen say
The day will be foggy, freezing and fraught with the risks Of
muddled up clouds
Bodies boggled in the windy blasts
Smothering
faint fillings of fear
Of the
havoc of winds, whispers and vicissitudes Sneezing out cold of the days bygone
Will it be nice to say
Have a nice day !
The
noon burdens the back with bounds manifold No respite no breath of fragrance
The day speeds down the limbs
To a
hurried lunch
In the the roar of chilly winds
Piercing
the bosoms, clasping the arms round
The
lurking danger of clouds a drowsy evening
Envelop
the mind forlorn Will a good afternoon wish
Quench the thirst of dry, parched lips !
The
shadows of the yellow sun
Falls
on damp and gloomy eaves and roads
The
lights bustle out sheepishly
To
quell the snares of gloom
Not a
rendezvous any longer
With
the ones lost in the noon of age
Will a
good evening wish
Clear
up the spirits in the dead of night !
The
dark long night, how long
The
sunny day is too far
The
hopes of dawn hide in the murk of pretensions We have to shiver and stay awake
the whole night
Fighting and perhaps losing the battle Each moment
Will it be suffice to say Good night!
.................2..................
Tanya
She
appears to be a cute Russian Gymnast
Hands, shoulders, eyes all moving flexibly
Gesturing
a rhythm, fresh, free and flowing
Emancipating
words from the clutches of cliche
She has
tremendous energy to move
Each
one in front
To all
embracing play of words
Far
from the pull of gravitation.
When
she smiles (for she smiles a lot)
Round-mouth, lips broaden
Face
light up in a twinkle
Eyes glow, pierce through here where there beyond the horizons
her big coat commandeers her command
Whither has gone the fog
That
was piling up heads hearts and minds
She has
cleared up all !
...............3.........................
Neetu
She
looks like an alien
Her
shivering sweet face bubbles up fog And shreds it into drops of water
As the sun fells its dimly golden dense sheet Her chaste Punjabi
Wriggles out all trappings of fog
Meandering in the minds Like a coy tibetan maid
Head in cap and hands in the pocket But...but fog dreads her
As she has sunny glints in her eyes
That it dreads the most
She
chuckles quite often
And
relieves whatever tension thriving here and there. I ask myself
Where is the fog ?
...................4....................
7 Phase
Plaza
Long
queues of departmental stores, shopping plazas Banks, shops big and small
Windows stacked up with fascinating attractions...
Hordes of skin-tight jeans marching past Smiling giggling chuckling
A light flamboyant decoration spree Offering offs in mega
percentages
The white fog has withered away from the sky And entered the
pockets of the people Chilling their minds
Fog-thou be not
proud ! We know how to fight you.
.....................5.....................
Bajrangi
Bajrangi
a Sharma from Bhagalpur
Paddles about a living in Mohali
he
worships the other Bajrangi of
Ramayana fame
He talks of his 3o feet high statue in Mohali
Of a
Seth who offered a 5 Quintal Laddoo Specially made for Mahavira
The devotees partook it breaking it,
Strangely, with hammers and hoes
He
relates the tale of Janaki's love for Rama For him,
Hanuman was a better and more loyal a devotee of Rama
Paddling out his rickshaw in the dense fog
Bajrangi
feels light and serene I think
Bajrangi is not paddling the rickshaw But his Bajrangi the jati sati
In the thick fog of Mohali for a living
The devotee of Rama!
.............6................
The fog
master
Very
quietly with Kamal Hasan moustache And scanty hair on the scalp
He tiptoes himself onto
his chair on the dias Everybody rescinds into a chill
Fog envelops their faces
The Fog
master questions Why is there so much fog
Who is there to blame
What
causes precipitation-
I don't
ask such sterotype questions Just tell me
Whether the fog is cleared or not
The
foggy minds speak of processes, problems, solutions, Of dedication,
sensitization, commitment
To clear the fog
The fog master thunders And orders to give in a writing Write
you must
In words
of your own responsibly, boldly, frankly
The fog
master departs
Leaving
the shreds of fog in hushed whispers.
.............7....................
The
jeans in the lawn
In the
lawn
A jeans
is walking below the cell phone-ears
Walking
to and fro
Eyes staring
the horizons Twinkling at intervals
Gestures abound
Lips open in slight mesmerism In awe, sometimes press tight
The tongue licking the lips in constant motion The shreds of fog
Look through the trodden grass from a corner
Some
mist remains in the mind too Some mist remains of moments foregone
May be
he a busy man
May be
he indifferent
May be
love has lost its labyrinths
In the
hovering clouds of passions
Uneasy
lies the fog
Where
Jeans fears to tread
Run
jeans run
Go and
scatter the fog
And embrace the waters trickling down the face.
..................8......................
Word-
dance
Words
are dancing on the white board
A
juggler hand with a black marker
Setting
them in a gleeful train
Word
become pumpkins
Pomegranates,
pears, peanuts, pencils
Poor
words
Rich
words
Come
out come out
Play dance sing hop cry shout explode
And
beat the fog with a clod
Fog
that fogs about there in the ground
In
minds it rests in hearts abound
In the
classroom
Under
the big fat cap
Of the
fog master-go words go and explode
Let the
fog die unsung unmourned For I have mourned it too long too far.
