01 January 1970
#WeekendReads

Poems: Tidings

The efficiency of the memoriter ingress allows you to come calling as easily as another niggle of myself. Rain hits upon me; in doing so, it robs me of my right to say, No. This is Nature’s way, kowtow or kaput...

Tidings
Tidings A still form a video work by Subodh Kerkar

Tidings

The efficiency of the memoriter ingress
allows you to come calling as easily
as another niggle of myself. Rain hits
upon me; in doing so, it robs me of
my right to say, No. This is Nature’s
way, kowtow or kaput. Ocean, an
oriel away, gurgles and giggles to
share finespun specks of its latest
amour. I listen: it leavens.

From Wrappings in Bespoke (The Hedgehog Poetry Press, UK)

Switchover

I run with the rain
till dampers
forward their disfavor
from a window inside me.
Umbrellas in assorted styles and sizes
open to familiar images:  
the sheen of sunbeams frolics on my facade.
 
Incompleteness holds its reach
on the landscape of longings.
Excess is someone’s theorem:
the economy is another’s brief.
Starlets with binders
bespeak artifice.
My etchings collaborate with my untruths.
 

Colure

The smiles I rob from myself
are the smiles
that belong to my karmic crypt.
The orchestra in intellect
doesn’t match the output
of our vocal processes.
On reflection,
we are the nosegays
our garlands never wore.   
 
Pismires will pursue
what they ought to.
Why must the rain not be wet?
Even in paludal environs
the emotional pyromaniac
finds the fireside.
Migration in mind is an effective
move. Another human being
counters another cry.

Interpretations

In memory of monsoons, your grip
more cherished than any collectible.
But sometimes, the prized  
have no place in one’s bundle.
 
Shortage, our leitmotif
was deliberate or destined,
I know not.
I have learned to extend buffets.
 
Ideations crumble
in light of caliginosity
holding me culpable
like one guilty for being himself.
 
Beams of beauty
spellbind transitorily
while origins of thought
back up fluent ogees.

Blearedness

The uncontrolled running of rain 
leaves  no record 
like a lamster.
Sunshine towels it. 

Let’s locate traces of truth 
in reliability. 
As when happiness 
harps on my riff.

In instances like these: 
I peep 
inwards 
to seek bounties. 

Everything else is a blur. 
Like how it is 
with the machismo of monsoons. 
One has to move beyond a blurb.

(Sanjeev Sethi has authored seven books of poetry. His last two: Strokes of Solace CLASSIX, an imprint of Hawakal, New Delhi, July 2022) and Wrappings in Bespoke (The Hedgehog Poetry Press, UK, August 2022). He is published in over thirty countries. He is the recipient of the Ethos Literary Award 2022. He is the joint winner of Full Fat Collection Competition-Deux, organized by The Hedgehog Poetry Press, UK. He lives in Mumbai.)