"bangle" poems
Jab aankh khuli to amma ki
godi ka ek sahara tha
uska nanha sa anchal mujhko
bhumandal se v pyara tha.....
uske chehre ki jhalak dekh
chehra phulo sa khilta tha
uske stan ki ek bund se
mujhko jeevan milta tha
haatho se baalo ko noocha
pairo se khoob prahar kia
phir v us maa ne puchkara
humko jee bhar ke pyar kia
Mai uska raja beta tha
wo ankho ka tara kahti thi
mai banu budhape me uska
bas ek sahara kahti thi
ungli ko pakad chalaya tha
padhne vidlaya bheja tha
meri naadani ko v neej
antar me sadasaheja tha
Mere saare prashno ka wo
fauran jawab ban jaati thi
meri raho ke kaante chun
wo khud gulaab ban jaati thi
mai bada hua to college se
ek rog pyar ka le aaya
jis dil me maa ki murat thi
wo ramkali ko de aaya
shaadi ki pati se papa bana
apne rishto me jhul gya
ab karwa chauth maanta hu
maa ki mamta ko bhul gya
hum bhul gye uski maamta
mere jeevan ki thati thi
hum bhul gye apana jeevan
wo amrit wali chaati thi
Hum bhul gye wo khud bhukhi
rah karke hume khilati thi
humko sukha bistar dekar
khud geele me soo jaati thi
hum bhul gye usne hi
hotho ko bhasha sikhlayi thi
meri neendo ke lie raat bhar
uss maa ne lori gaayi thi
hum bhul gye har galti par
usne danta samjhaya tha
bach jau buri najar se
kala teeka sada lagaya tha
hum bade hue to mamta wale
saare bandhan tod aaye
bangle me kutte paal laye
maa ko vridhaashram chod aaye
apano sapno ka mahal girakar
kankar -kankar been laye
khudgargi me uske suhag ke
aabhushan tak cheen laye
Hum maa ko ghar ke batware ki
abhilasha tak le aaye
usko paawan mandir se
gaali ki bhasha tak le aaye
to be continued ........(next part may be in next week)
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 3:04 PM UTC
O come buy doughnuts
doughnuts
doughnuts
doughnuts for sale
sweet ones, ladies
and yummy ones, gents;
precious doughnuts
you’ve never seen in your lands
I made them with my own hands
each sugary and yum to the core
round and hollow in the middle
each doughnut like Einstein’s universe
O come buy doughnuts
doughnuts
doughnuts
doughnuts for sale
colorful doughnuts
I have for you gathered here
I climbed the skies
to steal a color off each rainbow
that appears and disappears –
so have a blue doughnut,
a red or pink or green or purple
any color you will
or a psychedelic one if that please you more
O look at this love doughnut trick:
it fits your fingers like a huge wedding ring
and your beloved bites through
and then gets to your finger
and has to lick off every drop of sugar
and then kisses you on your hands
and after that
O, modesty forbids me to say anything beyond –
it’s all up to you…
Or would you prefer a doughnut bangle?
O come buy doughnuts
doughnuts
doughnuts
doughnuts for sale
O beautiful ladies
and gentle Sirs
please
make all my doughnuts
disappear within the hour
Sep 27, 2010
Sep 27, 2010 at 11:57 PM UTC
Kamarul is going to his village
All of us are going home with him
Kamarul is bringing
A bangle for his sister
Rafeeq almost buys up a jewellery shop
Kamarul takes as saree for his mother
Divakaran is busy searching for a clothes shop
While making tea
While emptying waste-baskets
While feeding new paper into the printer,
Kamarul sings his own song
All of us sing aloud privately
While going down in the lift,
He learns to count
4
3
2
1
All of us leap towards zero
Kamarul goes home,
Taking our letters
To the plant on earth
To the wind that blows in the evening
To the friend who promised to come
To everyone, for everyone
We wave our hands, wondering
What would be the time on earth
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 1:08 AM UTC
On this humid summer night,
heartbreak is even more painful:
here you lie scattered
in trinkets and baubles.
Half your name on an airplane tag;
Old diary with
hurriedly noted recipes;
A bangle whose
other in pair is now lost;
The cherished handbag,
hidden away behind clothes;
That first scarf I bought for you.
You lie scattered like this
here, in every shadow and dream:
why, Spirits, this fate for us?
Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 10:19 PM UTC
*He didn't listen hence he did stumble
He lost all his stake in one big gamble
For he called my advise mere mambo jambo
Till he finally saw the game end at an angle
for he no longer watched, his heart did rumble
He's now silent with regret and humble
for they who think they know the jungle
meet with uncertainty, and get eaten like mango
He lost all his stake in a giant gamble
chasing after the big win,the bundle
Now even in sleep all he does is mumble
his regret and stress, though he says he can handle
I see despair in him as hope does dangle
For the future's a locked door, a dark tunnel
After he lost all his stake in one big gamble
he wears gloom as beautifully as a bangle*
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 5:44 PM UTC
Molten glass molded Into a perfect circle,
Tinted with the shades of twilight;
- Lustrous lilac, blushing pink and pastel purple -
Embellished with shimmering stars, stolen from
the night
I gently slide them on my fragile wrist
reminiscing what he had once promised;
Like the roundness of these graceful bangles,
His love for me shall remain endless
They've heard me pray to the
Almighty
they've been kissed by the tears I've cried
Their clinking and jingling have always soothed
me
calling out his name when my eyes had dried.
A girls best friend may be diamonds
mine are these precious bangles
They've been the voice of my silent lips
And twirled at the touch of my fingertips
Sitting in a bangle box, waiting for me patiently
They will greet me again, merrily.
Dec 21, 2015
Dec 21, 2015 at 7:05 AM UTC
Green, red, red and green
Bangle, jiggle, twinkle and sheen
Rush and tumble, hurry and pay
Have they are all forgotten
What the point is this day?
Rushing past the man on the street
He who is huddled with nothing to eat
Sitting so quiet, tryin’ to keep warm
As he tucks in his legs away from the swarm
Blue day, Black day, black and blue
Green paper flying, silver coins too
White snow flying resistance of few
A man disappeared under the snow as it flew
Green, red, red and green
Bangle, jiggle, twinkle and sheen
Rush and tumble, hurry and pay
Have they are all forgotten
What the point is this day?
Presents and wrapping, bangles and bows
Shiver and shaking, shoes with no toes
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 9:36 AM UTC
Your father
Is ordering
Gold bangles
For you
You ought to be glad
The glimmer
In that eyes
When you were born
While wearing those
Tiny bangles on you
For the first time
Are inimitable
I feel envious
Of that bangle
And that world of yours
Without me.
I declare war
With your father
For no reason
Although certain
That I would disappoint as usual
I too had bought
A karivala *
In the third life itself
Sure that you would come
I’ll wear
That
On your hand
On the morning
Of
The fourteenth life
I have preserved the karivala
In saline water
Lest it
Gets blighted
I deserve the honor
Of being the first poet
To have preserved a black bangle
Meant for his girl friend
In saline water.
Translation : Shyma p
Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 10:31 PM UTC
My niece
made me bangle
of letters, stars, unicorns|
and colored beads
Then it hit me
that's her poem to me
a set of random things
that sit beautifully
side by side
around in a circle
and I noticed that
that's the first time
someone wrote
a poem
about
me
Nov 12, 2024
Nov 12, 2024 at 4:08 AM UTC
A wandering, a wandering.
A gypsy feet lead her north and south,
east and west.
Wander as you will and love as thou shall..
For the swirl of her skirt, and a shake of a bangle.
She'll become just a dream to hold close for the night.
A gypsy heart might be consider fickle
but she loves with all she has.
For to have it but a moment is all the time in the world.
Aide-o a love for a moment, is worth a lifetime of gold.
To hold her a moment, is something a feat.
For you never know where her roaming feet may go.
A roaming wandering heart that no walls can hold,
a restless spirit for all to behold.
Wild comes a calling and she'll put her foot out the door
calling softly "My true love,my one love I come"
Sep 22, 2010
Sep 22, 2010 at 9:56 PM UTC
I was on a plantain branch
Cra cra… Cra cra.. Craa..
She put her bangles on a rock
Cra cra… Cra cra.. Craa..
Glimpse of gold, shined my eyes
Cra cra… Cra cra.. Craa..
I took it and flew back home
Cra cra… Cra cra.. Craa..
A cry of fury trembling hut,
I wonder why she made that fuss.
With a bit of twinge I shout,
“One I took, three with you!”
Still her rage in frenzy mood,
Crowd is fanning flames to grow,
In my nest it shine and rest,
Golden bangles shining lust.
Then I went back looking around,
To watch the jokers in a run,
But my eyes in surprise hunt,
The bustle of hut in deep slumber.
Oh! Again this gold will turn
me a golden queen of crows.
Another bangle on the rock,
I took it and flew back home.
What a foolish bird I’m!
Fallen on their tricky trap.
They found my nest and climbed up tree,
My two bangles went with them.
Jul 23, 2020
Jul 23, 2020 at 5:02 AM UTC
I was hungry, you fed me.
I was thirsty, you gave me water.
I was cold, you gave me a blanket.
I was sad, you made me laugh.
I was tired, you let me sleep.
I lost my favourite bangle, you bought me a new one.
I wanted new clothes, you bought me new clothes.
I needed money, you gave me money.
As I became older I realized,
When I was hungry, it was your food you gave me.
When I was thirsty, it was the last bit of your water that you gave me.
When I was cold, it was your blanket you gave me.
When I was sad, you went out of your way just to make me laugh.
When I lost my bangle, you bought me a new one regardless of how little money you had left for yourself.
When I wanted clothes, you bought clothes for me even though you needed them more.
When I needed money, you gave me the last bit of money that you had.
I have been so privileged and blessed to have a mother who has always been willing, regardless of the situation to sacrifice and give without a second thought. A mother who has shown me the true meaning of unconditional love. Thank you for being the mom that you are and I thank God everyday for giving me the mother that I most needed.
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 4:53 PM UTC
You were talking
About a girl
She laughed
Clinking like anklets
At times
Grew dull
Like an overcast sky
Other times
I strained my ears
To stencil her in me
When a solitary pigeon coos
From the office wall
Am out in the sun
Listening to you
And through you
Her.
At times
You become her
And she, you
There is a you
Who laughs like glass bangles
There is a you
Who is silent
Like a broken bangle
Myriad yous.
We become alone
When we love
I have stood
The sun
Rains
Nights
Deserts
Abandonment s
Forests
Seas
Conduits.
Alone
Alone
I can see that girl
That tree shade
Her solitary sobs
That embankment
Her solo conversations
That desolate stone
Her lonely laughter
What is more agonizing
On this earth
Than to be in love.
Translation : Shyma P
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 1:38 AM UTC
I always thought boys were the bees knees. That I'd fall in love with one, and marry one and eventually he'd give me little babies.
so when the pretty blonde with the plastic blue bangle bracelets waved and smiled at me, and my stomach flipped, I was so confused.
my mouth went dry, desert dry, and my hands shook, and all I wanted to do was taste her strawberry chap stick.
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 1:01 AM UTC
Your father
Is ordering
Gold bangles
For you
You ought to be glad
The glimmer
In that eyes
When you were born
While putting those
Tiny bangles on you
For the first time
Are inimitable
I feel envious
Of that bangle
And that world of yours
Without me.
I declare war
With your father
For no reason
Although certain
That I would disappoint as usual
I too had bought
A karivala
In the third life itself
Sure that you would come
I’ll wear
That
On your hand
On the morning
Of
The fourteenth life
I have preserved the karivala
In saline water
Lest it
Gets blighted
I deserve the honor
Of being the first poet
To have preserved a black bangle
Meant for his girl friend
In saline water.
trans : Shyma p
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 10:53 PM UTC
Proactive hip gestures. To lady lusters. Do you know what it's like to have someone shove their hand down your pants involuntarily. Sip your free breeze bundles of Sundays. I'll float on.
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 6:48 PM UTC
bingle bangle trip top
flipper wing ****
fingling zinger bop bop
tribble slapper bang
herpe derper webble wob
frankish glub glub beetroot
shingle rampart flip rob
wipple fishnet bangtoot
markly haper mushmouth
yungdid crassly freeten
biddle froto down south
sharple rag tag neepin
oddler dang trumpet
***** gnomey smashhash
villet bridle crumpet
creamy lopless bashrash
oh, the wonderful sounds of letters
amazing in your diversity
always makes me feel a bit better
but not as far as perversity
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 12:44 PM UTC
Bullock carts moving forward
With the music of jingling bells
Women walking like a peahen
Balancing mud pots of water
On their head with a band
Women churning butter from
Milk with the churning rod
Men with their spades to fields
Ready for the ploughing
Boys,with their tool, catapult
Aiming at the juicy mangoes
Little girls running with laughter
To the call of a bangle-seller
Old men sitting in the verandah
Memorising their days of youth
Fruit selling woman calling out loud
Bananas,Apples,Mangoes
Smoke from the chimneys
Like an engine of a train
Red chillies, turmeric and coriander
Spread on sheets in the sunlight
Goats and calves crying out in
Search of their pet homes
Village full of greenery with
Gulmohars, Banyan and Neem
Busy with their daily duties
Happy with no disappointments
The villagers of olden days !
Jun 19, 2016
Jun 19, 2016 at 9:56 AM UTC
By night, these figures mute, in the whispers
come alive, guardian deities to ancient shrines:
tonight, though, after aeons by the gates, alert,
they begin to wonder, who do they guard?
Gods no longer visit these their abodes on earth.
Tall statues, of somber stone, much garlanded,
dusty, layered in withering flowers of neglect;
Out of season now, but the shadows at noon
are wet in tears, this longest day of deep sorrow
who did they fight for, to be remembered for?
Long has she suffered, matron, deity, enthroned
in the shrine, but trodden of the earth, cuffed
at her home, weighed down of custom, wearing
tradition on her bangle and ankle and bearing
honour in her veil, invisible shadow of the race.
Like the mythical stream of the distant lore,
has this ancient river, at last found her desert?
To that man holding the book in his hand,
thundering to the empty skies, I ask, what law
do you uphold when the jungle invades the land
Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 2:42 PM UTC
A collection of saliva sits on the ground.
The substance heaped in a short little mound.
Attention drawn from all around.
As the boy sits in clothes from the lost and found.
Covered in *****
A pant soaked burden
A question asked during learnin’
The answer being Martin Van Buren
Told he shouldn’t be in school
By those glaringly cruel.
Constantly made to seem the fool.
Leading to an increase in the pouring drool.
His eyes sit at an angle.
Bulging out as if enduring a quick strangle.
Caught in the shine of a young girl’s bangle.
He twists his hair into a locked tangle.
The girl bats an eye.
His mouth goes dry.
A boy flicks a small paper ball.
It sits in the air to pivot and stall.
Lands inaccurately out in the hall
The teacher seizes it bracing up against the wall.
Unfolds the note,
And reads what he wrote.
It held a cruel remark.
About handicap spaces and keeping him for the sake of a quick park.
The boy didn’t wish he were dead.
Nor was he agonized by the insult recently said.
The remark went right over his head,
He was stuck thinking about how sympathy only comes to those who have bled.
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 3:35 PM UTC
The first time your mother ever hit you, you realized she has hands. You knew all along that she had them, and that they would grow cold. (You used to tease her for wearing gloves in fifty-degree weather.) Yet, it wasn’t until that moment when you felt them.
Every memory you have of your mother’s hands involves watching them. How she’d oil her cuticles before pulling on her cleaning gloves. The way she dangled her one wrist, like a praying mantis at rest, with her other hand on her hip. When this happened, you loved how her gold bangle rattled. She never took it off.
After she hit you, she told you not to call for help, or there’d be consequences. She gulped down more of the drink you had been sharing. She left the rest for you. It’s a shame you don’t like cola.
Jul 21, 2012
Jul 21, 2012 at 6:20 PM UTC
Man wants the pistol fully loaded.
He wants the cool brushed steal,
the soft worn wood, the capacity for death.
Fearful of overcrowding - death loads a blank. A ***** with no ammo.
No power over life or strength in death.
All this I needn't worry; I favour the knife.
Life pours icy smoke from chalice lips
Coloured with the flag of every nation.
Daren't a silver bangle fall tearfully to the pistol - barrel in mouth, I fear no evil.
Nov 8, 2016
Nov 8, 2016 at 3:38 AM UTC
I put my shoes on the wrong feet and had to dance everywhere I went.
I dropped the world and everyone jumped higher than ever before.
I tripped the cord and brought down the lights across the globe. People learned to feel their way around each other, laughing like a game of tag.
I spilled my coffee and the animals of the world lapped it off each other like a surprise treat from the universe.
I lost my keys and had to sleep in a different house every night, piling up friends like bangle bracelets.
Once I did everything right and the world went about its business as if this were normal.
Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 10:45 AM UTC
‘What will you buy when Christmas comes
To show me your love, dear heart?
Will you fill my bower with fruit and flowers
To enjoy while we’re apart?
Will you buy the things that you promised me,
Like a bangle for my wrist,
Or a diamond, topaz, sapphire ring,
Or a giant amethyst?’
He stood, head down and he held her hand
As she lay so pale in the bed,
He didn’t tell her his job was lost
Or what his employer said.
There were charges he would have to face
That would fill her heart with gloom,
That by Christmas Day he would be away
And not be returning soon.
‘I’d rather give you the crescent Moon
As a coronet, dear Tess,
And pluck the stars from the Milky Way
As sequins for your dress,
Then call on the Charioteer, my dear
For your transport to the heights,
Where the gods will fall on their knees to bless
This glimpse of paradise.’
She smiled, then faded away to sleep
And dream of a ghostly tower,
Where her prince stood long at the battlements
At the height of a fateful hour,
An army lay in the fields about
In a siege for her, no less,
‘We’ve come for the Queen of Golders Green,
And we won’t leave without Tess!’
While he sat bowed in a lonely cell
And wept at his sense of loss,
He’d only needed another month
And the price would be worth the cost,
He’d not be there when she needed him
As she glided out through the door,
The Judge fixed him with a puzzled eye,
‘Just who was the coffin for?’
On Christmas Eve she awoke before
Her heart pit-pattered and stopped,
Her fading eyes had looked to the door
Along with her hopes, they dropped.
But in her hair was a crescent Moon
And stars were all over her dress,
While a Charioteer came into the room,
‘I’ve a chariot here, for Tess!’
David Lewis Paget
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 11:07 AM UTC