Poetry,Divine sincerity, is undeveloped Craftiness, intelligence in the rough. Anthology; filled with the feelings of goodness, love, happiness, GOD and His strengths; is written and shared so as to spread the message of a human heart beating selflessly for the cause of love and peace. To experience joy in the common things of the God gifted life, Read and spread the word.
05 May, 2013
FEW FEET BELOW HEAVEN
FEW
FEET BELOW HEAVEN
You
are a Pesach, oh great death,
I’m,
with the loss of shadow and soul, engraved,
Thank
you for the caress, thank you for the greth,
With
you, oh death, I never haggled and waived,
My
soul rambled to the heaven,
But
I found unentreatied perdition,
And
just few feet below heaven,
I
lost the path again,
The
rays of virtues, liberties and love shone,
As
effluvium of heaven grows day by day,
Innocent,
eternal and gracious once, now gone,
With
speechless surprises I rambled away,
Though
on earth, I was beleaguered,
But
now I’m an ambivalent soul,
Forced
by constraints, I delivered,
The
acts of a human’s role,
Please
spare my wan body,
I’m
dead now and forever,
Sorry
if I acted shoddy,
But,
on earth, my role is over,
With
all the sagacity outmoded around,
I
ended in goodness and rectitude,
But
few feet below heaven, few feet above ground,
My
story disappeared in solitude,
My
tombstone is unwritten,
And
the cenotaphs unembraced,
Buried
in a graveyard often forgotten,
All
my belongings are misplaced,
With
nobody to bemoan,
With
a sleep without a sweven,
With
nobody to atone,
On
the way few feet below heaven…..
-KISHOR JANGDA
14 April, 2013
FIVE MORE DAYS TO LIVE
FIVE
MORE DAYS
Few hundred heartbeats to free,
Oh dear God! Too high you live,
Not me but my soul can reach thee,
With five more days to live,
As death is a set of doleful doctrines,
For these mental misshapen oddities;
forgive,
I see them collecting pastoral eglantines,
For my wreath; with five more days to live,
Costly and gorgeous, my cenotaph is
sculptured,
It is
but one of the million deaths I hast to outlive,
With all dearest dreams I’ll leave refined
and cultured,
I wail no more, during these five more days
to live,
Under the trees I sit still,
With thee in heart, I believe,
My farewell is but your will,
With just five more days to live,
Oh father! Cast light on my shadow,
Though on my body you don’t believe,
All I owe is a promise to borrow,
But I have five more days to live,
Lord! Test my body with your sieve,
Pour in me my soul toe to head,
I have five more days to live,
Who held my faith, who held my heart?
What wilt they do with my bones, wilt they
connive?
Is my loneliness invisible till I depart?
Or do I really have five more days to live?
In my mid-teenage I want to survive,
With a list of strange magnificent dreams to
live,
Take me where God wilt arrive,
Followed his steps, still five more days to
live,
How can my breathes to me belie?
Nothing more than an empty hope to give,
As they vanish, I must die!
In your memory, five more days to live,
Pour your ichor and bliss,
Before everything I loose, let me achieve,
Everything that a human can miss,
Please guard my soul; I’ve five more days to
live,
I’m ash against winds of immoderate grief,
Like an effluviumless lamp yet to retrieve,
As death is just a relief from mortal
belief,
Torn asunder; with just five more days to
live,
End all my days like these,
And memories; with just five more days to
live…..
14 March, 2013
Happy B'day
FOR
THE CHARMING LADY
Melting
lights, searching eyes and a restless way,
Just
stop and listen “Hey! Happy B’day”
You’re
as good as the best of all,
Juvenile
and budding; stay a child after all,
364
days went and passed 364 nights,
One by
one they passed unaware of delights,
So
shall we celebrate this special day on Earth?
Let’s
make the B’day 364 times worth,
No
B’day ghosts can make us chill,
Can’t
call them at our will,
But the
claim is just, and just one day it will be,
Too
much or too little, spend some time with me,
Kick
the high-flying theories on the way,
Accept
this small present; Happy B’day…..
-Kishor Jangda
THE WARRIOR
THE
WARRIOR
The
first bullet made me slow,
The
second bullet hit me inches below,
The
third bullet made my heart hollow,
And
the last bullet made my anger grow,
But
till my last breathe with the gun,
I
made the enemies run,
Oh
god! Let me survive,
I
promised to return within fifty nights,
Help
my friends, who are still alive,
Still
hopeless after these fatal fights,
Till
their death they fought hard,
Don’t
put them in forgotten graveyard,
We
are the hurricane lamps that glow,
During
wild winds, rains and heavy snow,
We
extract peace in all bad situations,
We
always die for a greater cause,
Still,
we lie in the battle fields without any gauze,
We
have no more wars to fight,
But
have candles of my friend’s name to enlighten,
Though
bodies dwindled and disappeared yet souls unite,
After
vain and profitless but glorious tradition,
-KISHOR
JANGDA
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