Literary Yard

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‘One More Day’ and other poems

By: Mahathi


It’s one past twelve. One more day passed away,
not like a floating cloud with laze, nor like
a rollercoaster fast with jolting sway.
So dreary, like on a prosthetic leg to hike!
I wish I paint my time as I desire;
in rousing hues and add some fragrance too.
It’s late! I keep watching the blazing pyre
of my last spring; and of new one, no clue!
I’m like a night Watchman waiting at the gates
for nigh daybreak to say goodbye and walk
into the heat where melt the tedious dates
in an ageless zone, tearing the skeletal smock.
I wish I spill out of this trite time-spell…
If not, return to press the calling bell!


(Rhyme Royal)

The trees and mountains far, kept running fast
beside my open window sill like swarms
of locusts small and big of different casts,
of different eyes and hues. A draft of warm
noon wind walloped my face. I feigned no harm
as ev’r, and tried to crush the raising wails
by pressing hard my face against the rails.

For more than fifteen years I did the same;
wafting through ghostly hours, on lengthy routes,
like wayward monsoons, play’ng a seesaw game;
to storm from bloated lachrymal conduits
at both the ends! I pressed my brows to mute
the thoughts. I’m now retired…at home…oh yeah
but never can shake off this phobia!

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