Poems by Rohit Verma

Canonization

a poem by

Rohit Verma

“Born with a silver spoon”
People said so
Pal called me lucky
Fortunate heavenly shower at my toe.

Shakespeare mocked the human kind
With the seven stages of life
Made us a joker
In the coliseum of ridiculous life

Something comes in-
What goes out
Five acts or seven acts
Existential is the play

Message goes out to progeny-fear Jesus
His existence is dependent!
Why look up to it

Day is exhausted
Again a dawn breaks
Waiting still- Lost in the eternal blue
For that ethereal sight

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Catechize

a poem by

Rohit Verma

Nostalgic by choice
Looking back on vista of ‘Rising Sun’
Life was verdant
Love sacrosanct
Unable to win in scrimmage-
Between soul and mind
Sanguinary battle
Heart wins – as always
Feigning happiness
Inordinate passion insatiable-
Grows with time
Raison D’etre not in sight
Resurge to requite-
But eon tempest stretches
Decimated by regnant passion
Fantasizing what could never be born!
But must you ostracize
From pallid culture
The self imposed shackles-
Must break
And fly you
To the boundless sky
To mark your love
On marble of time.

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Mortal Sin

a poem by

Rohit Verma

Sitting by the sea, all night
Fantasizing things, that could never be born
Murmuring all that to myself
That never could dare utter
Dancing with her at a soiree
Or say, a honeymoon flight to some snow capped unknown land
Trying to get some solace- but in vain
Something hammers hard deep inside
Thoughts of her throngs my heart
As if, never again, it will reside in peace
Heart pounds severely,
Trying to break all barriers
She can’t be the one you love
But of course, she is your little honey!
But probably she hesitates
Shrinks back because of your style
“Forfeited love”, one may title
Me, like a solitary traveler
Longing to reach his destination
Sailing in a sea without waves.
I don’t fancy life anymore
Like a bird
Looking up at the eternal divine blue-
But alas! look its wings are clipped.
Sitting in the graveyard- meditating
Or in the cremation ground
Staring at the wild flame
Confused- who perished tonight!

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Images

a poem by

Rohit Verma

Walking down the tunnel
Moving beyond time
Dark cavern
Where do I go? – beyond eternity perhaps
Or else dense forest
Brightly lit by heavenly lamp
Still can’t figure out my face
All alone in the crowd
Shouting in a bustling market place
To fall on deaf ears
Or by the elegance of the mighty
My tongue fails me!
Opulent blind, bourgeois ‘dumb’ as always
‘Finding joy in suffering’!
Blasphemous the world seems
Down the year ‘Maturity’ overrules me
‘Soothing effect it had” father said so
Calling out names – my priority
Seemed my prize
“Horatious and Odyssiuous”
Jokers of arena
Combating to narrow down their names
In the history of mortals
Who’s dumb? Who’s deaf?
Is yet to be seen
The pen writes out
Palimpsest paean still musical
Poetry and literature for the progeny
Or obeisance on a day!
And pawns fighting for the pagan world
(Again and again)
But not for the ode
They deserve so much
‘Gentle mob’ cerebrate for a moment
The immortal caboodle of ‘stoics’
Died much before their death
And rise like ‘phoenix’
“To die until their death”.

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Laissez Fairre

a poem by

Rohit Verma

At last the curtain is brought
The drama ends-
Without the intended ending
Not good enough to stay in the memory of the audience-
Except the two thespians
Analyzing science
Discovering what not professed-
Too maverick to be in love
Machiavellian ‘Time’ masqueraded as heavenly shower
Feinted for three years
Before hatching the deceitful parting
Don’t be mawkish-
I told myself
Don’t trudge
Mellifluous relationship was factitious
She too fastidious
And your fealty too small to sink in your Trojan ego
Laconic expression not enough to
Enrich the Spartan love
Phoenix- what seemed once
Died a stygian death
Nothing between poles is mortal
Unsung burial left behind soft earth
Whose Achilles heel is it?-
Remains to be seen!!

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Catastrophe

a poem by

Rohit Verma

Bourgeois coupled with poverty
Decay and pus mongering everywhere
Anguish and grudges flowing in ‘Ganga’
Not a sight- that conveys peace
‘Shots’ go on to win an international prize-
In guise of a cause so noble
Literature written to stretch the serenity of the rich
Beyond the fences of ‘smog and clarity’
But humdrum portends an everlasting pauper
Who- dies not- nor can be eliminated
But lives an eternal life
Blessed with pungent ‘mellissa’-
In different face and complexion
Sun shines best on him
Encouraging the fire in stomach and heart
To quench the same old ‘mellissa’ is served-
To eat- to drink- to bath
To suffer an empirical agony… eternally
Determined to improve his plight
‘Jesus’ the mighty-
Embodies one of them-
In an era so materialistic
To die on knees and hands tied behind
Emancipated for any more reincarnation
‘Such fragile look- spellbound the world- was never seen before’
In sweat for Newton’s gravity
And eyes wide open to encompass the eternity.

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