Click to view Profile
Snehith Kumbla
Snehith Kumbla


Elegance of Arches. Image credit- pexels.com

 


ORDINARINESS
 
all those afraid of running late
all those sealed to the day's fate
 
fear not your loneliness
fear not your cowardice
 
you in countlessness
you in me-them-us-ness
 
crowd homes TV drones
blank cell phone stares
 
rearranged furniture faces
designated clustered spaces
 
take comfort in an armchair
accept that nothing will change
 
be a slave to habits-excess
be encased in thy mice-mazes
 
be fazed
be safe
be stoic
 
all those afraid of running late
all those sealed to the day's fate
 

EVENING WALK, CITY

precariously
a lady crosses
the road
 
an idol perched
on her head
precariously
 
a lolling shivering
orange tongue
panting summer
 
little brown dog
spread outside half
ajar bank gates,
 
not bald yet,
still losing
fur,
 
a bicycle tinkle
hovers on the
footpath
 
alone
 
into the jaws
of gregarious
traffic
 
behind the bus stop,
grey haired, resigned
to the rare customer,
 
inert against a tree,
the roasted peanuts
seller
 
crows wing
the sky in
routine flourish
 
no horizon,
only looming
skyscraper skeletons
 
that a
languorous
small town
 
is now
a delirious
city
 
SADNESS
 
when
it splashes in
dark coated ink
you may yet see
what you are made of
 
latch on
stand still
gauge
its clean depth
let it seep thy
 
bones, thy nerves
know what chain
of deeds fashioned
these stark moments
of crude depth,
 
unroll the yarn,
follow its trail
whence it
was a twine
unfettered
 
in bleak flame
you shall meet
yourself, clean,
at a river’s mouth,
there, mingling onto
 
you, sorrow, thy habits,
histories ancestries,
thy actions, inactions,
obsessed deeds, thy
absorptions, future illusions,
 
smoke, ruin, dust,
all ghost time,
count each trod step,
to fastened present
and you shall be
 
here, now
wiser,
calmer,
keener
to life

 

LATE NIGHT TV

 drenched woman, roused man,
she comes speeding up a hill,
he stands, macho style,
 
right on cue lightning
strikes, genuinely afraid
they embrace for dear life
 
the music then oozingly hums
a song about birds and bees,
the lovers now set out,
 
to find a hay shed for their
cravings, an omnipresent
old man aids, giving away
 
a free lantern along with
his deserted home keys
there is always a limit
 
they maintain, grope,
kiss, pinch, touch,
her arousal exaggerated,
 
his malnourished wolf gaze,
cut to the blinding sun rays,
on the heroine's pimpled face
 
for, whatever passed between
night and dawn has
been deemed unfit,
 
for alas, dear perverts,
the censors, have run
their scissors through it
 

YOUTH INVINCIBLE YOUTH

 youth
invincible youth,
 
wasn't it meant
to last forever,
this eternal spring,
honey-toned summer
 
a spark sometimes,
a swift movement,
nudging me out
of a wrinkled bed,
 
youth
invincible youth,
 
I taste you at the
crunch of an
ice-cream cone,
those soft-porn
 
videos, a distant moan,
instead embracing
the real, finally talking
to that wild-haired girl
 
youth
invincible youth,
 
when I shave off
the three-day stubble,
step out more accessible,
meet strangers, play
 
a long-forgotten game,
sweat in the sun,
glug lemon juice,
burst into a run
 
youth
invincible youth,
 
life is outdoors
in its throbbing
and uncertainties,
pleasured and seething,
 
youth
invincible youth,
 
I knock at your
door again, come
rush me into mistakes,
bruises, embarrassments,
 
bring me disrepute,
notoriety, shorn of
timidity, make me
clay again, rain...
 
youth
invincible youth

♣♣♣END♣♣♣

Issue 78 (Mar-Apr 2018)

Poetry
  • Editorial
    • Ambika Ananth: Editorial Note
  • Poems
    • Anupam Patra
    • Deepa Agarwal
    • Ishmeet Kaur
    • Jorge Diego Mejia Cortes
    • Nilamadhab Kar
    • Prabhu Guptara
    • Rashmi Kumar
    • Snehith Kumbla
    • Vibhu Dhariwal