Tonka Series-cycle
CYCLE
North-wind undress trees
Leaves fertilize lands
Rains feed the seeds to
Bloom plants in summer warmth
South –wind swings in bright flowers
rajkumar@kolkata/13-01-2010/@R ajkumar Mukherjee
poem by Rajkumar Mukherjee
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Acrostics
ACROSTIC
SNOW
Silence pervades the day
Nights become longer,
Old memories cover the way
Wonder what to ponder!
RAIN
Reasons take a back –seat,
Answers come forth quick;
Invades the mind’s slot-
Never know what to pick.
SPRING
Sensuous smell of flowers
Powers the mind’s eye;
Regain all lost glories
In poems to beautify-
Nature’s Garden of Eden,
God’s blessing in universe.
rajkumar@kolkata
30-12-2009@Rajkumar Mukherjee
poem by Rajkumar Mukherjee
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Cyclical
CYCLICAL
life blooms
so blooms flowers
fragrance spreads
by wind
wind creates ripples
on rivers and seas
howling seas on beaches
murmurs of the river
brings people around
dwelling spreads
far and near
man’s greed’s so high
want to reach the sky
cracks hole in ozone-layers
that changes weather
the thought of doomsday
all around brings sigh
when reason wins over greed
man’ll go for your lotus feet
trees will grow forest spread
rivers flowers birds sing to greet
everlasting praise of Nature
life blooms
so blooms flowers
fragrance spreads
by wind
wind brings ripples
on rivers on seas
peace prevails all over
Rajkumar @Singapore
09-07-2009
@Rajkumar Mukherjee
poem by Rajkumar Mukherjee
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Canvass-1
CANVASS—1
I like red colour always
Like ten horses who drags
The chariot of sun
Your fingertips enameled
With red nail-polish
The under-water plants
With blackish red leaves- akin to blood
You spread this blood everyday
On the dry earth
In the name of religion
In disguise of revolt
Sometimes thru air-attacks
Or the marching of armies with bullets
But how valuable is this red
Without a dropp of which
The life becomes a white canvass
Rajkumar@Kolkata
17-05-2009
poem by Rajkumar Mukherjee
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CANVASS-3(Azure) -revised
CANVASS—3(azure) -revised
(Dedicated to Madam Marie Shine a great soul and Irish poet)
my sky is azure today
like the London sky
over the Thames
like the Calcutta sky
in the winter evening
with smog
like the Delhi sky
overcast with fog
in the early hours of the day
still the sun removes
the veil from her face
a gloom like an Albatross
hangs
over my shoulder
behind the window-grills
I feel as if a jail-bird
who will remove this guilt
from my mind
since you have left
with an unspoken word
with the rise of sun
the sky gets clear of fogs
the smog
gets clear by rains
will the guilt be
washed away with tears?
unless you forgive me
forever...
.
Rajkumar@Kolkata
22-05-2009
Rajkumar Mukherjee
poem by Rajkumar Mukherjee
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May Day Trilogy-3
MAY DAY TRILOGY--3
Shackles were broken at Chicago on this day
Labourers, peasants all became gay;
Economic chains were spread as a net
The world covered on Dollar’s bet;
Perestroika gone, uncle Frankenstein—
Now look for Oriental sun-shine.
Rajkumar@Kolkata
01-05-2009
poem by Rajkumar Mukherjee
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Pride (cinquain)
Pride (Cinquain)
Flying
Kites in sky
Pride in reaching height
Only return to earth rain-soaked
Diving.
rajkumar@ko lkata
02-112010
rajkumar@mukherjee
poem by Rajkumar Mukherjee
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Snow-acrostic- Quadruplets-nature
ACROSTIC-SNOW
Snow-clad hills invite me
Nowhere else I find peace
Obliterates all my feeling
When embraced in profound cling
ACROSTIC-SNOW-SEA
Sea alone in its vastness
Negates all my distress;
Obvious calmness prevails,
When my hairs get her kiss.
ACROSTIC-SNOW-DESERT
Sand-dun es in a vast desert,
Not a shade, water or heart;
Only loneliness prevails upon
With camel and God to carry on.
ACROSTIC-SNOW-NATURE
Somber soothing nature’s treat
Nothing else can make complete
Overt desires men cherish
With longing love and good wish.
rajkumar@kolkata
14-12-2009@Rajkumar Mukherjee
poem by Rajkumar Mukherjee
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Summer's Wind
Be weary, Lord of the summer wind,
Lord of the heat that you blow in,
Away with flowers, land and trees,
To stay them not, least all the trees.
Listen to this, all that I say,
Our land does die, and drift away.
Our living born upon the wind,
All of ours, and those of friends.
So we called upon the leave-filled wind,
The autumn one, of which were friends.
This wind of cool and gentle hand,
Not like the wind that stole our land.
And the heat did melt into the leaves,
And turned them colors from the trees.
Then the leave-filled wind bore them away,
And upon the land, they came to stay.
And stayed them there, till land-hard cold,
And then the land, the leaves they stole.
And after the harsh cold wind had blown,
And living soil again was sown,
Summer's wind came again to prey,
Upon our lands, most every day.
But our living land, the leaves did save,
And the summer's wind did blow away,
Never to re-live, the seasons day.
The cool soft wind now blows so free,
Upon the land, and through the trees.
All through the people, and over me.
poem by Sandra Osborne
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The Wind
He shouts in the sails of the ships at sea,
He steals the down from the honeybee,
He makes the forest trees rustle and sing,
He twirls my kite till it breaks its string.
Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Whistling, howling, rainy wind,
North, South, East and West,
Each is the wind I like the best.
He calls up the fog and hides the hills,
He whirls the wings of the great windmills,
The weathercocks love him and turn to discover
His whereabouts -- but he's gone, the rover!
Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Whistling, howling, rainy wind,
North, South, East and West,
Each is the wind I like the best.
The pine trees toss him their cones with glee,
The flowers bend low in courtesy,
Each wave flings up a shower of pearls,
The flag in front of the school unfurls.
Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Whistling, howling, rainy wind,
North, South, East and West,
Each is the wind I like the best.
poem by Amy Lowell
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Wind
He shouts in the sails of the ships at sea,
He steals the down from the honeybee,
He makes the forest trees rustle and sing,
He twirls my kite till it breaks its string.
Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Whistling, howling, rainy wind,
North, South, East and West,
Each is the wind I like the best.
He calls up the fog and hides the hills,
He whirls the wings of the great windmills,
The weathercocks love him and turn to discover
His whereabouts -- but he's gone, the rover!
Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Whistling, howling, rainy wind,
North, South, East and West,
Each is the wind I like the best.
The pine trees toss him their cones with glee,
The flowers bend low in courtesy,
Each wave flings up a shower of pearls,
The flag in front of the school unfurls.
Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
Whistling, howling, rainy wind,
North, South, East and West,
Each is the wind I like the best.
poem by Amy Lowell
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The Southern Wind
The Southern wind is blowing
From the south
The wind is very strong
The trees are shaking
The leaves are falling
What a forceful wind!
On the wind-vane is pointing towards the south....
poem by by unknown author
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Early Works - The Seasons
Sky clouded and morbid blue
with cracks for the sun to shine through.
Fields barren and dead
with leaves turning from green to red.
Birds on high winging south
as rivers flow from its mouth.
Sun shines a light of cold on the
ground as autumn approaching us surrounds.
The leaves of orange and red mould where they are blown
as upon us winder begins to grow.
After a while comes a white blanket of snow
covering everything that will grow.
The nights get long
and the winter winds blow strong.
Everything is frozen fast
and in this wintry waste, none must trespass.
Overnight comes the warmth of a rearing sun
bringing with it the spring,
life to every living thing.
Trees and flowers bud, bloom,
and around the corner summer begins to loom.
As everything, turns’ smiling around
there is heard in the wind loves sweet sound.
Then with sunsets beautiful, but not rare
we can tell summer is in the air.
Flowers in full bloom spread multicolour around
as small creatures scamper on the ground
under the sun profound.
All the mysteries that summer does involve
will soon be gone as the seasons again revolve.
Date Unknown. (Early 1970’s I think)
poem by David Harris
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4. Blow me down
The North wind blew on Monday
As the East wind got the flu
The West wind blew on Tuesday
As the South wind never knew
The North East wind had Wednesday
As the South West wasn’t chuffed
The North West blew on Thursday
As the South East hardly puffed
The East and West blew Friday
As the others had a rest
The North and South blew Saturday
As the weekends were the best
The lot of them had Sunday
As the winds turned into storm
The whole of them had Monday off
As the week got back to norm
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
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Fate Accompli
Fate Accompli
the old man of seventy five
next to my bed
is trying to solve the unsolved ones
in his un-decipherable murmurs
he seems to be of high stature
in his hey days
the wife and son left him alone
for medical care
he looks for the control key
dangled for so many years
longed for sympathy compassion
he solicited their assistance
to unmask the unsolved mysteries
but with no avail
will it be the fate of all of us
can't go back to my desired time and place
to sort out problems created by us
no second chance to amend our misdeeds
no return of sympathy from them
for whom we spent our youth and thereafter
Rajkumar@Ruby Hospital
Kolkata 06-01-2009
poem by Rajkumar Mukherjee
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The and My Wind
Swishy air on my face,
blows around,
turning the leaves,
carrying my cry,
for the world to hear,
I am near,
carry the seeds,
Oh wind!
make new trees,
Oh wind!
make the fruit of life,
Oh wind!
take me out of my strife,
Oh wind!
my wind!
my wind!
put us out of misery,
for we are creation too,
you hear me don't you,
don't torment us wind!
poem by Aamir Zain
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Sonnet: The Wind
What shakes the trees so violently? ’Tis Wind;
What moves the clouds hither/ thither? ’Tis Wind;
What takes the tornado around? ’Tis Wind;
What brings the sandstorm on the earth? ’Tis Wind.
What makes the cool and gentle breeze? ’Tis Wind
What makes the boughs and leaves to dance? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the autumn leaves to fall? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the honey-bees to fly? ’Tis Wind.
What makes pollen reach in showers? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the dust to climb towers? ’Tis Wind;
What spreads the perfume of flowers? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the rain-clouds advance far? ’Tis Wind.
What makes the Wind to blow? ’Tis God;
What makes a Tempest stop? ’ Tis our Lord.
7-18-2001
poem by John Celes
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A Song of Autumn
My wind is turned to bitter north,
That was so soft a south before;
My sky, that shone so sunny bright,
With foggy gloom is clouded o’er
My gay green leaves are yellow-black,
Upon the dank autumnal floor;
For love, departed once, comes back
No more again, no more.
A roofless ruin lies my home,
For winds to blow and rains to pour;
One frosty night befell, and lo,
I find my summer days are o’er:
The heart bereaved, of why and how
Unknowing, knows that yet before
It had what e’en to Memory now
Returns no more, no more.
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Roses Of Summer (Song Lyric)
Where are the roses, the roses of our summer?
The North wind has come and taken them away.
Blow, then, O thou Southern wind;
Blow, then, without ceasing,
Till the roses of summer have come back again.
Blow, then, O Southern wind;
Blow, then, O South wind;
Blow, then, O Southern wind;
Till the roses of summer come back again.
Where are the roses, the roses of our summer?
For to make a garland for mine own true love?
There are none: none to make a garland rare,
Not a single rosebud for her hair:
Blow, then, O Southern wind;
Blow, then, O Southern wind;
Bring the roses of summer back again.
South wind, blow!
poem by C. Richard Miles
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Until they lose everything
In the Springtime
The wind beats the trees
Until they lose
Their most beautiful flowers
In the Summertime
The wind beats the trees
Until they lose
Their most beloved fruits
In the Autumn time
The wind beats the trees
Until they lose
Their most painful leaves
In the Winter time
The wind beats the trees
Until they lose
Their hope.
And the wind beats again those trees
Until they lose
Their most important spring buds
Again and again
Until they lose their sap
Moreover
The wind beats the trees
Until they collapse down
To the ground.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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The Wind
I felt the wind come in today
and felt the gusts that blew.
I thought of warmth and summer
and then I thought of you.
No leaves are left upon my trees.
The wind has blown them away.
And as it blows unmercifully
my thoughts have gone astray.
I must gather them in once again
and let them keep me warm.
If but for no other reason
than to quiet my mental storm
that is just as ferocious as the wind
and chills the thoughts that appear.
I can't figure out which is worse,
the thoughts or the wind that's here?
poem by Edwina Reizer
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