Poetry by Smita Amit

Stifled,
She breathed for years many
Routines dragged on, turmoil uncanny

Was it
Intellect struggling hence
Or was it her mind, endeavouring to make sense

Was it hope
That pulled the cart
Tho disillusions bayed, to pull it all apart

Was it youth
Seeing all with a tint, rosy
That made her, make from troubles a dainty posy

There were days, true
She sat at the precipice dark
Between bondage, release calling, hark !

To live for
There were lives young
So she chose her hard, soothing, her nerves strung

She toiled for them
The proverbial mother hen
Slowly spreading wings, they flew.. it hit her then

Why did, ne’er her fate defy?
Why no dream did she dream, ever
The toil for her own joy why did she do never

Today at life’s twilight
Nothing matters, the drudgery the strife
All that is was, now a blur, mere memory of being alive

Her eyes are pools still
They that had been pools twinkling ebullience
Today though they were still, with sheathed turbulence

All she wants
Is to fly away free, far beyond
Into her grandma’s never-land with lotus and frond

An ambush it was

That which made him ‘It’

Desolation, they did cause

Those bullets, that hit.

Motionless his body

Lies encased in white

The father, with eyes ruddy

Bereft of all sprite

Free, the valiant soul

From all worldly confines

Paying a heavy toll

The sister’s heart pines.

The motherland defending

Went the apple of her eye

The mother’s agony unending

O’ why did she also not die?

His own mother shuttered

Pillaged, her loving hand

Sons like him-stout hearted

Many has the motherland.

Who am I
Or who are you?
Definitions umpteen
Fitting so few

A teardrop
On the sands of time
Or a sliver of feeling
Deep, sublime

In the maze of ties
A seeking wail
Seeking support forever
Trying to prevail

But ,hark your hand
Who did ever hold
When the world , beckoned
You,in its fold

Then,guided by instinct
You had come through
Your will and strength
All that you had with you

Why doth then
A kindred you seek
In the teaming mileu
Of men ,ye meet

They fell in step
Those you met on way
Some gave comany then
But a lifelong staff??Nay!

Your deeds are what
With you will go
The way you met
A friend or foe

The hand you held
Towards an ailing soul
And the words you said
That did someone console

The smiles that you brought
To lips distraught
And every lively bloom
With which you replaced a drought

You earned goodwill
That weighs in gold
It enriched your heart
A rare treasure hold

Thus from all you see
And all you learn
A heart bejewelled
Is all you can earn

Square up then
With skills you hone
For your life ,it’s vagaries
Are yours and yours alone

Shy not from trails ,turbulence
Rise phoenix like with elan
No buttress but alone
Reach there, yes you can

Allure: I wonder?
Conch like eyes with glittering pearls,
Swaying gait a jasmine bough
Alabaster skin with lips like rose,
Delicate neck with a swan like pose
Their beauty unsurpassed,
Helen of Troy or Hina of Hawaii,
Famed across all shores,
Desired by many courted by dozen scores.
Spirited away across borders,
Traversing seas with turbulent tides.
By kings were they sought,
Countless battles, terrible wars fought
Often enough I wonder thus,
What they felt, whom did they love?
For whom did the butterflies flutter,
The fire in their innards flicker?
Was it the husband who commandeered,
Ordered and took as right?
Or the smitten lover that cherished every smile,
Treasuring them lacking guile
Did they suffer for anyone?
Did they allow themselves to feel?
Did the violins strum?
I question, did their heart with ardor hum?
Did they mourn the lover ever,
The besotted poor soul
Who loved a married woman thus,
And a mother plus
Born who was a prince
With the beauty of the realm all his
He gave up his empire, his life,
Laying all for another man’s wife
One man stole; the other;
Reclaimed avenged and killed triumphant
What in the depth of their hearts raged ever?
I contemplate, chew over
Did they exist impassive?
Carrying on their mundane chores
Performing; escorts to the throne,
Their hearts merely turned to stone?
Is beauty born to simply suffer
Or does she have a will?
Is she only an exquisite stiff?
That feels none of life’s biff?
Appearing a windfall, a felicity,
A bliss that meets the marveling eye
How many tempests, and much gust,
Not feeling, hiding, it must
A thing of beauty is a joy forever,
With élan this is quoted often
But a joy for whom I ponder,
The carrier or the beholder
Allure? Benefaction?
I alas often wonder… I do……I do……

The day the song died

Was it autumn

Spring? Winter even?

Scant memory now

Faint its fragrance.

Wispy remembrance

Like gathered pearls

Her cache of songs

From the cord of life

 Ready to fly today

Break free, drift away

Unexpected it came then

Gossamer light,

Susurration, a murmur

 That thought, caressing

Winged, and charming

Fie, that gay abandon

The song of her prancing feet

Twittering, unmindful

On the road muddy, slick

At  each askew brick

With folded hands 

As the assembly followed

A song she sang

All decorous and prim

Her joy tho’ full to the brim.

Sitting, chatting

On the carpet of green

Crooning blades

Twirled in her fingers

 Soulful sweet jingles.

Radiant like a rainbow

Song of a mynah,

On the swing

Her body in flight

Feathery and light

They had walked together

Young and in love

From a gate to the other

In emotion each step

In melody singing,  hippetty- hep.

Now a mother

The beloved long gone

Doting sweet joys

Gurgling along

 Honeyed, her cradle song.

Moments had flown

Songs of her bruises

Melancholy now

Nineteen to a dozen

Sang of the vacuum within

Years later

Irrevocable they all exist

The swing that goes to and fro

The slick, the gates, the green

Winking with their glean

But no song exists today

Foretasting no morrow

Notes, sad nor low

 No expression of joy

No yearning her feelings cloy

The tune has flown

So has the melody

 The nectar in the jingle

 Woefully dried

And a song unknown died

The twinkle

It flew away then

When the vacant heart

Neither laughed nor cried

That is the day the song died.