To Nur Jahan!
O Nur Jahan!
Thou Beauty Personified.
Thy Tuhr incensed Salim!
Thy periods starved him!
Akbar's progeny insane in thy love.
Salim is my kin.
We are partners in lunatic asylum.
Literary devotion Mihir-ur-nissa's bare breast.
This adoration nectar n manna
Of contemporary Jahangir.
Dance of Lust
No sign of seriousness
Only the deification of Vasana.
Mouths chant Hare Rama,Hare Rama,
Hearts want Kama,Kama,Kama,Kama,
Body travels Rishikesh
Hands ravage Streekesh.
Priest touches the female skin
In the guise of blessing profane.
Frenzy of Flesh
Exhaustive frenzy of flesh
Scorching fire of senses
Digtal obscenity of laptop
Reminding the dull poet
Of the dance of Corpses
With the reptiles.
Boom Times
Boom times
Right times
For free enquiry
About P.A.
About her menstrual cycle
About the brand name of her sanitary napkin.
Domestic rituals
Venue for multilateral talks
On paucity of bleeding.
"Her stomach is inflated!"
"She has eloped with her paramour."
"My sister will mensurate tomorrow."
"My daughter has not attained puberty."
"Which sanitary napkin do you use?"
The holy conversation
Going on in Miltonic style,
Though the priest sometimes creates din,
Sometimes forms pandemonium
By profane discourse
On Shama,Dama,Tapa and Shubha Titiksha.
To Beloved
Shall I compare thy face to pure milk?
Thou art more charming and white.
Often is it blended with waste.
But thy cheeks without any sign of dust.
Mine desire is to find your inner being
Too fair like naked sky.
Thy external charms remind cloudless heaven.
This love sick man in earnest need
Of the strength of your internal beauty.
Thy youth making me insomnia patient.
I pass sleepless nights in thy meditation.
Give me traqualiser of your soft skin.
This mosquito better than the poet
Touching your red cheeks,
Ravishing thy hands
Ravishes it my heart
Showing me hapless
Before social inhibitions.
We are listless issues
We are listless issues
Contemplating perfumed skin.
We are flag-bearers of hot-stuff.
Our souls are territories
For the integrated training of lust.
Gang is our urinal.
Ganga is bar.
Ganga is brothel.
Scams are our rituals.
Pornography is our Geeta.
We are listless issues
Contemplating perfumed skin.
Greedy Indians
Greedy Indians
With eyes passionate
Watch acts forbidden.
With tongues uncontrolled
Use laschivious words.
With ears impure
Hear licentious conversation
With hearts dirty
Pine for the vicinity of the opposite sex.
They are jealous
Of the dogs,cats,rats and lizards
Cohabiting in the open.
On peeping through the Upanishads
On peeping through the Upanishads
I find my discourse sans extravagance of black boredom,
Bathing in the Vedantic Brahma,
Pure as the Om,
Free from frost,fire and fun of flesh.
I lose consciousness of I.
Aham Brahmasmi.
I am you.
I am she.
Dereft of dualism,no desire of revenge.
For I see my image in my enemy cruel.
No thought of opposite sex,
As she is nothing but myself.
Tempest of Passion
NASDAQ index has dipped.
The body temperature has risen.
Imbalance between Celsius and Fahrenheit has generated
the heat.
My soul is anemic
With the fury of sex.
My mind meditating on female body
My whole endeavor to influence the fair sex
My heart pining
To be the peer of nudity
NASDAQ index has dipped.
No sign of bullish trend.
Only the howling cries of bears.
Hey, Bulls come and oust this bear
Invading the stock exchange of the soul.
Union Carbide pollutes the nature.
Pangs of womanhood make me totter.
Deforestation creating ecological imbalance
Her tender skin and ravishing beauty make me lose my
patience.
My mind doomed to a certain death
My soul not hearing the song celestial
My voice unable to pray
My breathing system disturbed.
O Bosnian Serbs! do not cleanse the Muslim populace
Rather, come to this territory of my heart
And indulge in the act of purgation.
O Serbs, come immediately
Else my Divinity
Will find it difficult to face my passion.
Thank You to the poet Nilanshu Kumar Agarwal for sending his poems