Cooking Poetry
Gitanjali Roy
While returning
On my way towards home…
The half-open door
calls for an uncanny call…
At dreams, the entrance windchim clinging!
Being an Other,
The strange land threatens,
While
The home is calling…
April, the cruelest month of all!
Numbers multiplied.
The rest, wed-locked with land lock.
Others?
The strange land threatens,
While
The home calling…
The normal
Evolving as
The new normal.
Social, but only from a distance.
Integrating and disintegrating
the values of togetherness
the digitalized age,
webbing in webs,
emphasizing on celebrating aloofness.
The theater screen trapped inside Netflix,
The cafe chats?
Now a tutorial channel called YouTube.
The intellectual conferences?
More liquefied, called webinar.
An order amidst the chaos
The new normal!
The same route
Stares strangely towards me.
The lack of hope
The tiredness of being alone
The monotony of unspoken trees
Each communicates
yet a story, unregistered.
Some chosen lucky,
The wild roadside touch-me-not blooms,
The bees dancing on the honey-filled flowers,
The nasty group of boys being trapped indoors!
The evening walks with dogs
No more seen!
While the jonakis greet hiding, still far from the treat.
While we gasped for fresh air,
filtered air everywhere
But now, masked in!
Books have become best friend again
Sleeping early, waking early, a routine!
Meditation a need
While being at home
A narrative indeed!
The soon gonna-divorced couple
Making love once more.
The spoiled son helping mom in household chores.
While in the next door
The father rapes his own daughter at home!
The native was mocked
When he mis-spelled school as isskool.
But now students forced to attend e-school!
In the bazaars of life
The prickling pickle preserves hope,
The sugary silence sweetens,
The salty suffering accumulates,
The utensils await to be cooked!
The lazy chef
Ties a careless bun.
Dices the vegetables of words,
Pans in oil of punctuation,
Stirring the spices,
Tossing the feelings,
Sprinkling the creamy emotions,
Frying imagination,
Runs to address the ringing, calling bell!
Only to return with the
burnt over-heated spoiled broth.
Draining the poem, off washbasin…
::x::x::x::
Poet Gitanjali Roy
works as Asstt. Professor,
English Dept., ICFAI University,
Tripura and is pursuing her PhD
on Digital Literature.
[Disclaimer: The opinions expressed in our Blog are those of the author(s) / poet(s) and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the Publisher.]