"padma" poems
~
Precious Padma
You dearest aquatic flower
You grew in murky waters
Unblemished by its impurity
But come they did
*To ****** your petals*
And leave you a burning stem
Never can they take from you
The spirit of your plainsong
It continues to grow in your sisters
And in a time and season so near
They will sing your hymn
As one substantial voice
The changing winds will then
Lift it higher
~
Dec 9, 2019
Dec 9, 2019 at 2:29 AM UTC
exacting in love
possessive by nature
volatile in temperament
and raging like flames
you are wild and untamed
nothing like docile padma!
the strategic placement
of each kiss on
your voluptuous body
you so unashamedly demand
is provocatively seductive
drawing out
from deep within the soul
of this simple flute-playing cowherd
a brazen but besotted lover
© 2019
Apr 28, 2019
Apr 28, 2019 at 2:40 PM UTC
Corina Junghiatu is a bilingual poet/writer hailing from Romania. She holds a Master Degree in Philology and Phychopedagogy and likewise she graduated from The Faculty of Letters and Philosophy in Bucharest. She speaks five foreign languages.
Corina has written and publishing two books of poetry: „Exile in the light” and „The ritual of a Sunrise”. She is Administrator and Publication Coordinator of Motivational Strips, editor of "Bharath Vision" website, and Chief Advisor of World Nations Writers' Union Kazakhstan. Corina has won many awards from international institutions of repute, for poetry.
Recently, Corina Junghiatu, together with 350 poets and writers from 80 countries, received a certificate of appreciation for her entire literary activity, on the occasion of the 74th anniversary of the Independence Day of the Republic of India. This certificate was was handed by the famous writer Shiju H. Pallithazheth the Founder of Motivational Strips, World's Most Active Writers Forum and Padma Shree Dr. Vishnu Pandya, President of Gujarat Sahitya Akademy, a government institution of the state of Gujarat (India).
Aug 31, 2020
Aug 31, 2020 at 10:45 AM UTC
On the mud flats of Padma Delta
where the mighty Ganges slides
into the Bay of Bengal
ships come to die.
Rusting oil tankers,
container ships from Panama
passenger liners,
and cargo ships from Zanzibar
North Sea fishing boats
research vessels and mother ships
anything that floats
each one has made its final trip.
Steel Leviathans
low tide beached
oil-slick stuck.
Metal monoliths
****** deep
into black sand.
The people of Sitakunda
come marching, ants
across the slippery surface
of diesel sand
to pick the carcasses apart.
Barefoot, with only blow torches
hammers and brute strength
wrenching rivets, nuts and bolts
breaching beams and deck
splitting welded seams
until the hulls are gutted
ribbed struts broken down
and torn from the edges of shape
Bit by bit
they scour and empty
right down to the core.
Bit by bit
they carry *****
to the waiting shore.
Where melting pots are kept boiling
giant stock pots stewing goodness
in a broth
but metallic flavours and oily spiced stench
hang in the misty bleakness of the bay
Skeleton hulks shift and ride
lurching, lifting with the tide
rolling, dangerous still
collapsing, with groaning creak
to maim, to crush and ****
the daring, the slow and the weak.
© M.L.Emmett
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 10:29 AM UTC
O Ganga!
You flow
Across the mighty
Mountains
O your youthful
Playful force
Making its way
Through the
Ancient boulders
Stream after stream
Joins you
To find its destiny
Happily
In your depths
To make you
O the vast Ganga we know
The Aryans found their
Abode on your banks
You saw the rise of Jainism
And Buddhism
O civilization
Not only flourished
But flowered
On your banks!
You've seen it all!
You travel down the Tehri dam
Across Rishikesh
And Haridwar
From the cow's mouth
O the Gomukh
Where your mother
Glacier Gangotri rests!
You enter the plains
Having crisscrossed
Roads many
And lives
Of many a being
Who consider you
As mother
Worship you
You bear their brunt also
Carrying heaps of
Garbage
You flow Kanpur
You see tanneries
And many more
You nourish them
Keep them running
But they end up
Slowing your run
You reach Allahabad
What's in a name
A tryst of cultures
O you have the
Gangs Jamuni doab
And Gangs jamuni tehzeeb!
Your sisters join you
And here at Prayag
You have Yamuna with you
O a mythical sister
Saraswati does find here way to you
They say
Life goes on on your ghats
As usual
People washing clothes
Themselves
And people offering
Flowers and performing
Rituals on your banks
O all but consider you
As an earthly mother
A heavenly gift
Just like Saraswati
You have your place in the scriptures as well!
You also
Flow out of mythology
Into our minds
O the mighty Shiva
Took you
In his mighty curls
Of hair
To allay your spirit
As you descended
Onto the Earth
To purge peoples
Lives
The Bhagiratha's
Penance you saw then
He got back his wish
Thousand brothers
They say
O you but still see
The Kumbh Mela(fair)
So many souls
You see the serenity
Of Varanasi
The beautiful spirituality
Of its
Ghats
O young wrestlers
Massaging before
The day's fight
Alongside
Seers in
Deep meditation
On your banks
O you have settled
This city
You flow across
Patna
The ancient
Pataliputra
Seen many imperial
Rise and falls
History echoes in you
You enter Bengal
The fertile
Gangetic plains
Bear testimony
To your gifts
With their lush green
And swaying fields
The Farakka barrage
Sees you in one of your
Giant avatars
You irrigate
And touch people!
You flow as the Padma in
Bangladesh
O you know
Two lands separated
By political shadows
You flow
As Bhagirathi
Hooghly
In Bengal
The rice bowl!
O your Ilish(Hilda)
People do relish
You flow graciously
Through
Flat extensive plains
Past Kolkata
The city of joy
And into the sea
At Gangasagar
Taking with you
So many memories
And promising
The continuity
Of your divine
Grace
O dear river,
You are Ganga!
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 6:57 AM UTC
I met her in Cameron Park
I don't remember her name
but i call her Padma
(padma is the sacret lotus)
she was a little asian girl
about 9 years old
her mother was going
to the food co-op
and she let padma stay
with me in the park
we shared a sandwich
she probably shouldn't have
accepted food from strangers
but I guess by that point
we weren't strangers
we fed the pigeons and a squirrel
she told me she was going
to dance lessons later that day
she showed all the moves
in very french sounding names
she loved dancing
and she was great at it
we talked about God
funny thing to talk about
with a 9-year old
but whe was eager to tell me
about the Buddha
I told her I liked Buddha too
but that I didnt't
believe in God
she couln't believe
that I didn't belive in God
but she said that
some day I would see
"look at the sun" she said
"look at the tree"
"look at the pigeons"
"their feathers"
"is that not the work of God?"
I could not disagree
and I didn't have the heart
to say
"lool at that homeless guy"
"look at the front page of the paper"
"drugs"
"war"
****
******
I didn't have the heart to tarnish
her heart of gold
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 12:09 PM UTC
These waters caressed
a thousand dead bodies.
Young and old men,
mothers, their children.
The water listened,
it heard their
submerged howls,
Slowly
growing drunk
of their brittle
little-souls.
May 15, 2017
May 15, 2017 at 10:41 AM UTC
I will tell
Surely tell
Wait until Meenakshi teacher arrives
I will surely tell
That you’d pinched me
You had hit me
You’d hidden my umbrella
Your hand had delved into my lunch box
And you picked up and ate the tender mango pickle
I’ll tell everything
That you’d peeped into my math book
And copied my homework
You’d forged my handwriting
You’d spilled violet ink
On the cover page of my science book
You’d inscribed
“I love you” in my palm
You’d scored on my back with the compass
Everything, everything
You’d called me names
Didn't you call me monkey?
I’ll tell that too
You threw the marbles
That my grandpa had bought me
Into the river
I’ll tell that too
You spoiled my new slate
That my brother had got me
That too
You had written in page fifteen
Of my double lined copy book
That Padma teacher isn’t good
I’ll tell that too
Well, nope
Not saying that
What if Meenakshi teacher relishes that
You may end up getting fewer whacks
At any cost I’ll tell
That you’d eaten
Raw mango with salt
In the classroom
Before the teacher came in
You’d written
The film song on the board
For sure I’ll tell that
Just wait and see
Teacher is going to grill you
You’ll cry
You’ll burst into tears
I’ll see that and burst into laughter
When you cry
I’ll drop some ants into your bag
Oh!
Have you already
Started to cry
Now wipe your tears
Hey, come and sit
Here
Next to me.
(If
you give me a kiss
on my cheek,
I won’t
tell anything.
What you refuse to give me that?
You don’t need to give that for free
When I grow up
I’ll return that;
Will give you double
Of what you give
Forgot to ask you something
The birth before the last
You’d borrowed
A 316 kisses
From me
When will you return them?)
I wish
to go to school with you
(Letters from inside My Stomach – A Part )
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 8:07 AM UTC
daughter of the ocean
i feel
your pursed lips
place an antiseptic kiss
drawing all humanity
into incessant action
through an intricate web
of pure illusion
that only you
so masterly weave
oh great goddess
the lotus-eyed one
primal cause of all
those cupid arrows of yours
launched from
a bow of flowers
pierce my tender heart
© 2019
Apr 21, 2019
Apr 21, 2019 at 11:53 AM UTC
The millennium is over,
How much water flows in the river Padma,
Someone keeps track of that!
In this short-lived life,
Filled with ups and downs,
Only waves of pain flow.
I am at the crossroads of tomorrow,
With aspirant hope raising both arms.
Everything is in motionless motion-
All speeches seem to be lost,
All reflections have disappeared,
Only the heart can tell, whom it wants.
Turn around silently,
The mountain of thoughts are in front,
Can they be recognized?
Time flies like a butterfly
Wants to look at the annihilation,
Again searching for what has been lost on the way.
Jun 26, 2022
Jun 26, 2022 at 5:05 AM UTC