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 Aug 2018 Debanjana Saha
Rumi
A lover asked his beloved,
Do you love yourself more
than you love me?



The beloved replied,
I have died to myself
and I live for you.



I’ve disappeared from myself
and my attributes.
I am present only for you.



I have forgotten all my learning,
but from knowing you
I have become a scholar.



I have lost all my strength,
but from your power
I am able.



If I love myself
I love you.
If I love you
I love myself.
xoxo-xoxo-xoxo

When someone opened their mouth
And threw dirt upon You,
I wish to have seen their reaction

When You showed them exactly
the response of a beautiful human,
With a beautiful heart

Mine was a huge smile of happiness
and love for You

xoxo-xoxo-xoxo
 Jul 2018 Debanjana Saha
Ari
I don't understand.
I don't understand
Why we're so mean,
Why we speak without thinking, and
Why people can hate each other over anything, or even nothing at all.

But most of all,
I don't understand
Why a label supposedly defines us all and
Why people don't feel safe in places they should.
Why does Destruction drag behind humanity like a ball and chain?

However, there are some things I understand.
I understand
Why there are good people out there,
Why hope is not lost, and
Why I can make a difference, even if it's small.

With all the things in the world, one may or may not understand
It kind of makes it seem like there's nothing worth contemplating.
But I think I should wonder anyways,
And learn to accept the fact that some things I'll never know.
 Jul 2018 Debanjana Saha
L B
For my cousin, Chris Goldrick

Lacing my skates
after walking two miles
in girl-strictured delight
Mom's stories of Sonja Henie--
No, not ever

Lacing my skates
with  snow-ball pompoms
felt skirt
and nylon tights
Cute little hat with matching scarf
My thighs and fingers
already freezing
icy burn
from miles on foot

to get there
the lake where--

I must get out
I must get OUT!

Knowing what
to expect from my body
the quick-twitch of muscle
Could always sense
specific--
gravity of water    
at 22 degrees

Desiring to feel
the motion between ice and steel
Read speed's vibrations through my body
The brain registers relation
to weather's effect
Tell of velocity
possibility of fall
Feel the slash of the blades beneath me
Throw my weight sideways, sudden
to hear that furious hiss
An object in motion tending, dire
to stay in motion

Threatening to stay there
always
in its heights-- of speed
away--

from the crowds of skaters
swirling distant in the lights

Seeking instead
the farthest reaches of Porter Lake
speed and speed and more
to overcome
inertia
of what it is to become
undone

at the outer edges, of humanity
A force  
centrifugal unto myself

Avoiding

Pregnant and slow
with years and babes....

The best
must be broken and tamed
of what it takes to stay free

catching the edges with every stride
catching my toe in the quick
180
spray of frost
to the sudden still

Listen to the frigid chill

and the heave of my breath
tumbling into evidence

Gliding
Once

Forever--

on, into darkness
of woods on frozen water

The wildness of it all

So infatuated with flight
so full of grace

I forgot Sonja

The moon rose
from her seat in the treetops
and applauded
Wrote this immediately from a dream a couple months ago.  With all the heat and humidity, it sounded good to go today.

This dream was an actual relived memory of being 12 years old and skating at Porter Lake in Forest Park of Springfield, Massachusetts.  22 degrees F is minus 5.5 C --Just a reference
Survival is get up, eat and get ready for the day. Work, go home, do some mindless activity, get ready for bed  and sleep. Each day has the same structure, the same form.

Two things break me out of that; friends and books. Time with these fuels my heart to beat for more. More than day-after-day drudgery, more than simply fulfilling obligations.

With these, days are morning cuddles with my car and music that fills a peaceful house. They are short  laughing conversations with my co-workers, or the way the sunlight hits the rain-laden clouds during my commute. They are the little moments of breath-stealing beauty in a good novel or my siblings' jokes. They are the clean feeling after a shower, and the soft warmth that curls around my bones when I bundle into bed for the night.

And this is living.

Must have a goal
Go get that thing
What if I want
To stop and sing

Retreat inside
Wait out the storm

Else feel the wrath
Of nature scorned

Instead a kid
I wish to be
To feel alive
And so carefree


Each drip, each drop
Upon my head
Wish I could splash
In rain instead


I'd watch the sky
Explode with light
A warming joy
Not filled with fright

When did I lose
Sight of it all
Predictable
Pattern I fall


Start living in
Every moment
Past and future
Wasted and spent

Granted a new
Chance I'm given
Can not redo
But start living

Each day awake
Fresh start; Can be

World's my oyster
Alive and free
Written: July 14, 2018

All rights reserved.
Stealing away from the noise and glare
I paced the aisles of an ancient library
Being worn and tired, indisposed to read
I sat in a corner, lost in half reverie

Around me were books stacked end on end
In safely locked glass and wooden shelves
And sectioned into different genres
Fiction, non- fiction, verse et al, in thinly layered leaves

I felt lost in this vast continent of erudite friends
Poet, scholar, philosopher and sage, each sat quiet
But those silent souls seemed to crave for human touch
Waiting to serve anytime learning’s lovesome diet

Closely sheltered from the tumult of the world
The place, though serene had an eerie air
And books like so many beauties in a harem
Were kept away in seclusion just to admire

The lifeless air and the long deserted look
Mildly disturbed my inner calm
Couldn’t digest man’s total disregard of books
Which for long, to many a lonely soul, served as balm

Sitting amid those gallant souls
I thought over the relentless efforts of sage like men
Who in the stillness of the night, in their cloistured cells
Plunged into research and meditative reflection

What knowledge is garnered in these tomes!
What all charms, encased in these pages!
To what magic lands they can carry us
Sharing with us the accumulated wisdom of ages

With the profusion of electronic gadgets
And information, readily available by a finger hit
Books no more are given a venerable treat
And fated to be stashed away in corners unlit

Heavy with the time tested wisdom of the wise
They sit huddled together in damp corners
Longing to get a little human warmth
But sadly neglected like rusted burners

After an hour’s enervating reprieve
While I was leaving that dumb world
In my ears, fell a faint sound
Of the agonizing cry of the Printed Word!
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