Great Land
History, Inspiration, Legend, Literature, Love, Nature, poetry

The Great Land

Standing in the land of the great Apaches

Midst blooming wild poppies

and the mammoth elephant grasses,

thinking of the dream that once Martin Luther had.

May be the days of  chivalric Camelot are over,

as I heaved reclining on the grand arm chair;

vicious winds from the North gushed 

echoing footsteps of a massive feet

opening a narrow pass for the

grim shadow of Lincoln to flicker by,

leaving behind trails of the Fallen Soldiers

on the path once trodden by the

fierce Indian Tribes.

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Christmas, Legend, Love, satire

The First Coming

Adorning the scarlet crown of thorns

he graced the parched sands of 

ancient Bethlehem with legendary 

bounties of those infinite compassions.

A messiah took birth in the shanty

dwellings of the humblest shepherds,

A shooting star sighted somewhere,

It was the first tremors,those calm

                whispers and silent tears.

 He silently trudged on those impotent

lands leaving in every-footprint a gushing

fountain brimming with divine mercy

Brought down the mighty

Roman Empire  not with a saddle or sword 

but with a single drop of his blood

And when the lighting struck  

the barren lands, he humbly took upon

himself the sins of all those around,

resurrecting from his humanly abode 

It was the first coming, the most

anticipated one.

 

(Merry Christmas to all my Christian Friends, it’s my humble take on the spirit of Christmas and the legendary story Of Christ) 

wind's tale
Humanity, Kindness, Compassion, Inspiration, Legend, Nature, poetry, Spirtual

A Wind’s Tale

Started at 3 pm to look for morality,
Hours minutes pass by,
Walking waiting sleeping
But road to morality seemed long
On the curvy path few are busy,
Some in slumber, some don’t 
really care…

My guardian angel texted ” do not disturb”
Keep on marching, keep on trudging 
Perhaps one must ask what is the way
Met a wasted drunkard 
Stretching on the cracked pavement

Taste this nectar from the gods
You will find what you seek
I too was once like you
Follow the direction of the wandering wind
Swaying, dancing, howling 
It knows what you look.

Seven days and seven nights,
Chased the promiscuous wind from coast to coast.
Shrieking, screeching it leap up to me
With a licentious laughter…
Here you come finally like many,
Did you know ,I was cursed long ago.

To screech and sing in darkness,
For my promiscuity banished long ,
To consummate with hollow vacuums
To make love to woods in the dark,
For my crime, as she said
Two casual tears trickled down her gaunt cheeks
I dared to love thunder under the nose of clouds.
For which exiled to perpetual nothingness,
Fornication is a blasphemy in the book of creator.

While I yell, cry in empty voids,
Thunder is gracing the blue sky.
Morality is the privilege of very few
It’s the luxury of those who dwell in sky
As final words were said, thunder growled in the sky ,
Lighting struck on the nearby tree,
Scared and naked she vanished into woods.

Tanya Shukla

Misfortune
Legend, Love, Nature, poetry

Deliquesced

In the murkiest corner of my

house, behind vintage armarium

lingers shadowy smoke of a

lone candle lite once.

 

The flame long extinguished

leaving behind a sooty smog

that hovers an abandoned cloud

 

Reminiscence of days when

arrogant flicker competed

with the mighty rays of Sun.

 

Callously it turned its head

towards the scorching beam

In exhilaration of youth before

time melted away.

 

The satin wax of exotic bees

deliquesced and fell apart like

the fall of Icarus leaving a dark

cloud on the walls…

 

 

 

 

 

Ram's arrival
Legend, Literature, Love, Nature, poetry

Ram’s Arrival (Ramayan)

The sacred sounds of thousand conch shells

piercing through the eerie silences of deafening 

decades, a mammoth Himalayan cloud bursted 

in the Northern horizons over the legendary

kingdom of Ayodhya on the banks of

fabled Sarayu River.

 

The thundering clouds wrestled, the wombs

of giant Earth quivered, the regal blue-eyed

peahens ruffled their gilded

ruby feathers;

 

The sunken plants sprouted, oozing out their

heads to catch a glimpse of the exquisite face

of Sita with a silken complexion of molten-lava

daughter of king Janka of Mithila whose

whose beauty  launched thousand

battle-ships…

 

Adorned in the victory lap of the majestic

embellished golden elephants, swimming

across the seas far-far away from the

ghostly dark dungeons of decadent

Ravana’s sinful Lanka.

 

After slaying  Ravana’s ten monstrous

heads for the atrocious sins of holding,

his young queen captive.

 

Crowned prince Rama step a foot on the lush

lands of Ayodhya, where gilded golden domes

erected bowed to salute his triumphant

arrivals, after the exiles of the fourteen

extensive summers and winters.

 

Ancient gulmohar trees lowered their laden

branches and fluttered leaves like bells of

mythical sun temples;

 

A tear swelled up in the eyes of Rama

looking at the solar dynasty of his fore-fathers

banished by his own kin, reduced to

dwell in sinister dense woods chosen

for menial chores.

 

Rama knew the challenges that lie ahead,

sufferings he must withstand, answers he

must offer, the paths he must trod while 

 keeping his ideals supreme.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Train
Inspiration, Legend, Nature, poetry

A Lone Train

Chuk Chuk Chuk Chuk…

A lone train screeches

as it travels through

the hollower valleys

and gasping Wastelands

 

Chuk Chuk Chuk Chuk…

Piercing through the

bare empty winds

bursting into open clouds

thundering straight into

the darker nights on

narrowest bridges

 

Chuk Chuk Chuk Chuk…

carrying in it the ghost

passengers, yes those lost

trekkers pacing across

the numb eerie silences

keeping  wrecked promises

 

Chuk Chuk Chuk Chuk…

stopping at  the haunted

junctions of few spirited

bandits, headless inherited

curse of slained and martyred

those slaughtered and mattered

to some cause.

 

Chuk Chuk Chuk Chuk.

The train trails along

Cracked tracks beyond

Dense woods, those wronged

Pilgrims but still moves on

on lonely lanes treasuring in it

vowed wrecked promises

of now vanished travelers 

Chuk Chuk Chuk Chuk…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

a lone rover
Legend, Love, Nature, poetry

A LONE ROVER


A lone rover wandering in,
In the ancient city of Byzantium
Flying through the narrow lanes
Of colorful bazaars embellished.

With tapestries of doe-eyed hoories

Sweet aroma of brewing Turkish coffee
Lingering in the air, koo hoo of pigeons
In the throbbing kare pazar.

Tall turquoise minarets echoing with
A melodious song of bulbul seated on
Withered old chestnut tree, a song of
Some far off exotic  land separated

Over two waters, by the grand range of
The Hindu Kush, the ballad of crystal blue waters
In the lap of mighty snow-covered Himalayas,
A lake flowed down through white clouds

Descended from heavens on whose divine,
Waters exquisite golden swans float,
On the smooth frosty edges Buddhist
Monks meditate for days and nights

Abode of the great lord the mighty
God of wrath and destruction. As the lone
Rover listened to the hymn astonishingly,
Little bulbul, flew across the mighty sea

Rover being a wanderer decided at once
To follow the bird and travel into the distant
Lands, for his quench to travel, is insatiable
And time in the world limited.

Humanity, Kindness, Compassion, Inspiration, Legend, Literature, Love, Nature

Refuge

I took refuge in myself as a

hermit in an ancient cage,

enduring the thunders and 

the howls of angry wolves

in my brain, as the centers

would not hold, no one ever

cared for my broken words

so I started to scribble long

verses on my aching heart

while taking refuge in my

my withered soul caged by

the barrage of human folly. 

feminine, Humanity, Kindness, Compassion, Legend, Literature, Love, Nature, poetry, sensual, Spirtual, woman

Final Liberation

The exquisite hope diamond ring that was

tightly wrapped around my shaking finger,

is it enough to keep me chained or do you

think I stayed for a few golden jewels?

You can very well tie me with the,shackles

of your heart’s desire and lock my yearnings

in an embellished magical lamp and seal it

with an Indian pearl. But are the ruby and

topaz strings strong enough to tie my soul to

some wooden vows? Has any sorcerer ever

been able to trap a soul? My soul has been

emancipated long before you were born it 

flew across many deserts, crossed many

channels and soared much above the azure

skies. And for my wild heart, you can scribble

many criss-cross lines with a marker of your

desire.Could any illusionist ever conjure up 

the strength to tame a heart? The profanities

that you hurl at me are no longer the cause

of my woes. I no longer feel humiliated

when you mock at me with a grin on your

handsome face or call me a whore or an

unstable lot. Much before you since centuries

men have called me different names and

temples and shrines haves offered me

several offers of redemption and even tried

to chastise me in the holy waters of sacred

rivers. But while pundits and priests were

performing fire rituals for the purification of

my sinful flesh my soul was busy consummating

with the hollow winds and erect trees on the

moonless nights. My spirit paid ablutions

and offered few locks of raven hair as a

sacrifice to the  Goddess of Earth, Gaia and

my soul just soared higher and higher

after being blessed with the final liberation.