TO OBLITERATE

Let us assume, and accept

For once, that our lives are

Are strewn

To tread in the path of obliterating

The reasons for living.

Temptation it doth not stand for,

Nor does it stand for love,

Sans hand, sans feet

To tread in the path of questioning

The reasons for living.

Untitled

I have taken turns

To take the rivulets flowing,

I have taken turns,

To make the vermillion glowing.

I have smelt the booty of their faces

And the lace of their eyes

And I have still...taken turns

To make the bangles clanking

And the trinkets lashing.

To have smoked her eyes of cries

And to mould her moment of shy’s

I have made the squirrels floating

And I have taken the clouds a gloating..

Amidst all her vermillion glowing.

(This eventually got published in Kinaara October-celebration issue)

Here is the link: http://kinaaramagazine.org/index.php/2009/10/anurag-mazumdar/

Paltry pumpkin

Can I touch you?

Paltry Pumpkin....

Your big snout face

And goose-fish skin....

To see your nose and

rosebed kin.

I wish I was an onion

On your sultry dumpkin

Your small clout face

And glum-fish skin

To see your scum and

pregnant kin

Can I touch you?

Paltry pumpkin

Bosom

When my hands reach your bosom, I feel
A small bird is cupped in my hands
If I cup it a little more, it will die---
I let the tip of my fingers roll on---
The feathers of your bosom wake up.
I hide the grain and the husk
Where the lips of your bosom meet the dusk
Your bosom screeches out in ecstasy---
While it flaps its “feathers”
And caresses my face, lips, chest and neck,
Your bosom.

(Translated from ‘Ston’---a Bengali poem by Shamsher Anwar, a poet of Bangladesh.
‘Ston’---in Bengali means “breasts”)

My own

Those spent years at the bar,
The dancing moves in the car,
Shared me..
My own,
Sun and the soul.

Have you sprouted eyes?
To see the creaks
The rivulets in my eyes..
My own,
Sun and the soul.

The flight of stairs you took,
And sent your scowl..to feel
The pain in me??
My own,
Sun and the soul.

Upside down and downside up,
She has walked the nostrils,
With bunnies on her side,
And fags on her lips.
She has sprouted her wings
With cats and dogs,
And walked with slings,
On shy kissed stairs.
She lights her lamp
With falling stars,
And makes love to,
Dancing bars.
The mounds of peace call you to melt the dew.
Your lap goes close to kiss the hue.

I have a secret treasure,

Wearing a guitar,

Dancing on drums,

She comes…

Gnaws and growls,

Cries fair is foul,

She smiles..

Bites her lips,

Tears them apart,( I love them so)

She kisses..

Smudge your kohl,

Lose your mole,

She hides..

This is my shy creature.