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Two Poems from our Narrative Poetry Collection

 
 
KURUKSHETRA
   
Author: Anupama Bhargava
   
Poem:
KURUKSHETRA
   
 
Who is he, who is crying there-
Over the words spilled in the chapters in History-
The worth of the young blood, which the earth so joyfully bored,
The efforts of the old timer,
The politics of the clever brain-
The one who didn’t battle
But only spoke,
To stimulated the youth but him
To carry the pulse in the eternal mind
And then collected all the glories of the day
in the cool evening's benison,
when the smoldering sun finally touched the clay.

I

Is he among the
Men whose names are counted amid the greatest leaders
Because now neither will the whipped sindoor ever speak up
Nor will the cloth that sheltered the bosom, and
Nor will the empty cradle
Only the earth will echo
When foot lay numb
Only the sky will reverberate
The last words before the voice went mute-
Just that,
We don’t listen to them anymore,
Only because we don’t believe what history has taught us:
Earth knows no fear but death.

II

Men had fought
And still fight
And when the war is over
They look at the battlefield,
Only to find Truth crying-
Truth
That tells them:

Unlike *Kauravs (During the famous battle of Mahabharata Kauravs formed the other side- against Lord Krihna thus standing for what i immoral and wrong. Kuaravs were 100 brothers)
The teeming earth has no one to return you alive
Neither any *old woman (Reference to Kuaravs' mother),
Nor any *blind (Ref to Kauravs's father who was the blind king and the main reason behind the war!!).
Even *Chanakya had to surrender to death.

III

He is the Truth
Who is crying over the mounds of blood soaked bodies,
Blanched with rain.
He is who put on the name of the victorious men

Mud alike
On the bodies
Sodden green
Scowling and stinking dead
Dripping black blood from nose and beard.


Chanakya- Chanakya, perhaps is the only personality who has been accepted and revered as a genius both by Indian and Western scholars. He is a historical milestone in the making of India amidst tremendous upheavals and myriad’s of reversals. Celebrated as a shrewd statesman and a ruthless administrator, he comes across as the greatest of diplomats of the world. He had the guts to speak his heart out even in front of the rulers, which shows his strong inclination to democratic values and the audacity to put his views through. Although, he lived around the third century BC, his ideas and principles show concurrence and validity in the present day world. Politics was his forte. Diplomacy in a politically charged environment shows his self-confidence and the ability to stay calm in trying situations.

His foresight and wide knowledge coupled with politics of expediency founded the mighty Mauryan Empire in India. He was a great laureate of economics with a glittering intellect to perceive the intricate dynamics of the various economic activities and principles.

   
  More Narrative poems
 
 
AGONY OF THE ABORTED CHILD
   
Author: Ibitomilade Akinyanmi
   
Poem: AGONY OF THE ABORTED CHILD
   

Since she knew I was on my way
My world has not been the same
her heart right above my little head
thumped so hard, I couldn’t sleep
she was restless and so was I
she wouldn’t eat
I was confused

I longed to know why she cried
For the knowledge of me should give her joy
as I pondered within my little mind
I saw it enter her womb to probe
The harbinger of my death to me unknown
my life was ending before it had begun;

I reached out to touch what my little world invades
this hand the monster clenched with its biting jaws
without mercy it tugged and tore my hand away
recoiling in pain, Mother save me! I yelled
but it seemed she couldn’t hear my voice
For I saw the monster come at me again

With all my might to mother I clung
tugging at her womb with my remaining hand
Save me! save me! Was my resounding cries
But like a joke the monster caught a leg
and I closed my eyes to shut the sight away
as my leg and body came apart

Mother sobbed her body racking with pain
As I was from her being torn away
spare us this torment
I wailed, I screamed
yet make them stop she wouldn’t do;
and little by little I was dismembered,
My heart’s drink of blood
drained from her like a flood


When a lung the beast swallowed up
My last ounce of strength I summoned forth
Mother! save my life
with desperation I cried
but still…..
I saw the beast come again
then the spirit I let to go

With much terror my spirit took its flight
shielding itself in the roving waves of blood
even then my killer wouldn’t stop
until it held the last of me in its jaws
mother never did hear my voice
neither will she ever behold my face
I return back to my maker unknown to the world
my dreams...
I never will fulfil
 
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