Pramila Khadun writes

I can't understand this

Billions of dollars are being spent

To look for life on other planets

And trillions spent to kill life

On this one.

I can’t understand this.

With hearts parched, tear-etched faces,

Blowing rings of hope

In the midst of despair,

Many are eating dry bread with a tangy chutney,

While others are tasting wine

From the best of vines

Along with grilled meat and sauce

And baked potatoes.

I can’t understand this.

Cesspool of wickedness, filth and corruption,

Poverty, partiality, pollution and devastation,

The fury of war, the scheming puppeteers,

The cacophonies and atrocities around us,

Engulfing us while the delights

Of the wicked know no bounds.

I can’t understand this.

The simplicity of life turned into complexity,

Sins descending like a swarm of locusts,

Virtue dying in the bud and vice flourishing,

Youth left to themselves, the old ill-treated,

I can’t understand this.

 Swarm of Locusts -- Brehms Tierleben

Pramila Khadun writes

Postman

Postman, where is the letter

That my lover sent to me?

Too much sugary words Mam,

It just melted away……..

Ah bon!

And the one he sent me day before?

Too much honey Mam,

It flowed away………..

Eh bien!

Where is the letter I wrote to him?

Mam……Mam……Mmmmmm…………

Too much chocolate Mam,

I ate it all.

Nothing is left Mam.

Pramila Khadun writes

The land of freedom

To variegated destinations have I gone

In the myriad modes of transport.

I have seen the sun rising and setting,

With all its majesty, bringing light in darkness

And creating darkness where there was light.

I have seen the sea, blue and vast,

The slopes, hills valleys, widening lakes,

And the beauties of the Alps and the Himalayas

With wonder – struck eyes and mind

Overflowing with the powers of creation.

I have had my trays with the world of

Culture and agriculture, Science and fiction,

Photography, calligraphy, geometry and geography

And poetry has taken me to heights lucid and candid.

I have seen the world of greed and exploitation,

The futility of war and its strife,

The debilitating illness, the pains of loneliness,

The enemy spewing fire and venom to destroy,

And the silent lovers reminiscing the moon – lit nights

Spent by the bonfire burning with a lilac flame.

O God! Come! Come and take us

To that land where the rationality of man

Has faded into insignificance and he accepts

The inevitability of Truth,

Where man has no nationality and all are one,

Where the waterfall is not illusion or rejection

But compassion in an interplay of red, green and yellow,

Where nights are long for lovers

And days short for workers,

Where our children will be of noble birth

And move heads held high in pride,

Into that land, of Freedom, O God

Let us awake and arise.

Land of Freedom -- Sajan Karunanayake

Pramila Khadun writes

Can I be your Cinderella for tonight?

It was a poetry fair

And poets across the globe were there,

Chatting in voices crackly

Sassy and active with vigor,

In love and camaraderie.

Such wondrous works of art,

Like flowers in a floral fair,

Murmuring the rhapsody of love

Defying hypocrisy and simulation,

Lineage and language.

I was there too

Neither afraid nor pretentious

Going through poems

Of all climes and rhymes,

When suddenly, a poem struck me——

So simple, so humble, and yet,

Blossoming like cherry blossoms

In all its beauty and its might.

‘I think it fits me,

The shoe in this poem fits me,’

I said to myself.

I wore it and it was fit and fine.

It brought a rapprochement

Between me and the poet.

I felt the first drizzle of monsoon,

I saw the water lilies sprouting,

I saw Yamuna’s ripples kissing the shore

And the stars racing in the sky.

The poet was there looking

At me longingly

With shyness shining in his eyes,

While my soul communicated with his.

I metamorphosed from my cocoon

Of beauty melting with innocence.

I went to him

While the intense tidal waves

Of love came crashing softly

Against the walls of my heart.

I landed in his arms,

Put one leg in between his legs

And said in a husky voice,

‘Prince Charming, can I be

Your Cinderella for tonight?’

He drew me closer to him

And said gently,

‘Can you be my Cinderella

For the rest of my nights?’

Pushing my leg in

A little harder and deeper, 

I said.………..’Yes.’

 

Cinderella -- Charles Landseer