T-20 Cricket

Batsman scores a six.

Field-a simmering cauldron.

Dejected few leave.

Copyright @ Goutam Dutta

https://pensitivity101.wordpress.com/2020/09/04/three-things-challenge-348/

#threethingschallenge

Homesick

“What is there on the other side of the river?”
Asked my grandmother.
“Bangladesh”, I said. “The country of your birth!”
The river was the boundary
Between the two countries,
Between many aspirations, dreams;
Once an anxious yearning to cross
For those,
Who had tried to save their lives
By crossing over and
in the process became labelled as refugees
during Bangladesh’s Liberation war.
 
“My childhood is left back
on the other side”,
My aged grandmother said.
“Perhaps lonely today.
Perhaps it roams about
Wearing the garb of serenity
That nature stitches for all
Amid the gentle lapping
Of the moon lit river water
On the river bank.
This serenity induces
A sense of nostalgia,
Perhaps a longing even today”.
 
“Tonight,
this serenity colours my thoughts blue!
I wish I could hold on to the clouds
And cross the river’s boundary.
I wish I could sit with my childhood,
Bathed in my moonlight,
Wrapped in my silence,
In the serenity of my river bank,
One more time!”

Copyright @ Goutam Dutta

Twilight Hour

Setting sun;
Breath exuding orange hues.
Holds fort at horizon.
Meanwhile, silent dusk,
Spreads a black shroud
On Earth’s land.
The Seox (seox in Anglo Saxon means six) is a verse form written in 6 lines in keeping with its name. It was created by Ann Byrnes Smith.
 
The Seox is:
o   a poem in six lines, a hexastich.
o   syllabic, 3/7/6/5/4/3 syllables per lines.
o   unrhymed.

Source- https://poetscollective.org/poetryforms/seox/

Copyright @ Goutam Dutta

Pragmatism

So many balloons fly.
So many dreams, ideas,
Aspirations and desire float
In the sky-high.
They float around
In lazy idleness,
Carrying me along;
I fly with them.
They are my dreams, ideas and desires,
Released out of my head;
My ambitious,
achievement oriented mind.

I hope a few of them
Would land somewhere,
Achieving a solid ground sometime
and with them
I would land too.
Solid ground is what everyone needs.
High up in the air
It's all just plain emptiness and silence,
Cold, aloof, unfathomable vastness,
No substance.

How long could a bird keep flying?
Sometime it would need to land
Its feet firmly on solid ground
Come back to reality, pragmatic.
The ground is where
the action is,
where truth resides.
This is where
dreams have to compete.
Ideas will get tested,
Singed in fire
And emerge pure, shining like gold.
Coloured balloons in the sky,
Can do nothing
But only fly! 
#Whatdoyousee

Copyright @ Goutam Dutta

Forces of Attraction

Surge in seas, rivers.

On the morrow-A Full Moon;

Enticing, pulling.

Copyright @ Goutam Dutta

Hues of morning glory

Bright morning glories,

Adorned fences in my town.

Hues-my mother taught.

copyright @ Goutam Dutta

https://www.google.com/amp/s/frankjtassone.com/2020/08/29/haikai-challenge-153-8-22-20-cricket-koorogi-154-8-29-20-morning-glory-asagao-haiku-senryu-haibun-tanka-haiga-renga/amp/

Token

It's been two days
Since the Nor'wester.
Its ferocity left back
As token everywhere-
Broken branches,
Twisted wires.
A bird's feather,
A red dried leaf,
Some broken beads;
Uprooted
from its original place of resting.
Now lie amidst the shrubs
Perhaps a little uncomfortable,
Out of place
In it's new surroundings,
In my garden.

A Stray incident also happened.
The fury of the wind
Had uprooted a roadside tree,
Causing it to fall
On a passing taxi.
The poor driver
Had not even succeeded,
In offering a token resistance.

In his honour,
The city's mayor
Offers some token money
To his wife
To express his condolence.

His grieving wife
Plans to hang a photograph,
Dating back to their day of wedding,
On the bedroom wall.
A token of remembrance
Of the good times spent.

It's been two days now.
All is calm
Till it's time,
For the next storm;
A token of protest by nature
For, it believes,
it is being wronged.

Copyright @ Goutam Dutta

Passage to Death

Like the pied piper;
His pipe emitting tunes
mellifluous,
Evoking visions,
Life leads us along. 
 
We,on earth,follow;
Intoxicated,
Hypnotized, 
In step with the tune. 
Knowing not where it leads,
Why we relentlessly follow?
 
Then one day
the music stops. 
The trance breaks. 
Excruciating pain takes over; 
Momentarily. 
Then all that is left is
Nothing but
A deafening silence.

#FOWC-Nothing

Mapped out

Inside tiny heads,

Journey mapped out perfectly.

Flock of birds-migrate.

Copyright @ Goutam Dutta