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Poems-MadanMohan Tarun

CPY RIGHT RESERVED BY THE AUTOR MADANMOHAN TARUN (C)

WORDS

-MadanMohan Tarun

My friends ask me
Why do I write ?
In fact
This is my own fight.

DO I write for name and fame ?
But this is not the only game.
My words and I, create each-other
They are like my children
They are like my father and mother.

My words
suffered from the same injuries and cuts
They had the same rewards and insults.
They are liquid mirrors of my time
They are my anger ,agonies and cries
Place to place they are badly damaged
but they have their own image
They are the call and cries of my time
They have their own rhyme.

o

NAKED FINGERS OF LIFE

-MadanMohan Tarun

Have you ever
Bloomed
like a lonely
Deserted
jungle flower ?
far
from the glittering eyes of crowds
with lust and appreciation ?

Have you ever
Sung your song,
Passing through a lonely village road ?
Where dusty trees nap
And goats graze unconcerned.

Have you ever
Danced like waves of the ocean
In the pitch dark nights ?
When even shadows are absent
And the earth is in deep sleeps.

Oh! these are the moments
when life touches
With it's naked fingers.

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WHO creates

-MadanMohan Tarun>

I
Create my poems
or
They create me ?
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I Hit

-MadanMohan Tarun

The sky
Did not allow me
To cross it's limits.

The earth
was
Too small to place me.

Thus
I hit the limits
I hit the boundaries.

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BUT...

-MadanMohan Tarun

True
I could not become
As big as my dreams.

True
I could not swim
In the pond Of the moon.

True
I burnt my feathers
Many a times
while laying my egg
In my dream nest of the sun.

But
O Mocks ...O Jokers !
O laughers ..O self Bluffers!
These dreams were seen by me
These flights were feathered by me

N
O
T

By
You.
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CITY

-MadanMohan Tarun

still
The city does not die
coughs smoke and frosty future.
Suffocates
In
Used imperishable polythin bags
Under the shadows of
All horrible forecasts.

It keeps on hanging
Between
The skies lost
And
The skies under preparation.

The city
The beauty itself
Laying naked
On the posh and the busiest road
Of the day's dreams
With her silky thigh open
Carrying horipilating aids
In her lusty thrills.

She is daily new and young
A searching Cleopatra
For her novelest fun
But the city never dies
Never die the people
Ghosts and hosts
Live together
The game of dips and downs continues.
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THE CROW

-MadanMohan Tarun

The crow is spreading it's feathers
Sitting on the swaying
Branch
Of the evening.
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DIFFICULT SMILES

-MadanMohan Tarun

I am the typhoon
I hit every thing
But I dare not
To touch the flowers of grasses
Not for
They are not
silky tender
Or charming
But
They are difficult smiles
On those lips
who are born to be crushed

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Not only Stars

MadanMohan Tarun

Who says
Only Star and Planets
Effect our lives!

I have seen
Many Stars and Planets
Bearing rings with jwels
In their fingers
In our names

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STONE STATUE

-MadanMohan Tarun

For centuries and centuries he was standing still
A figure of tranqulity symbol of height
He never spoke a word
His silence passed through every moaning heart
His hands never mooved on any back
But his compassionate smile sheltered everyone
He was beyond gods , beyond religions
He was beyond the boundries of countries
Beyond the circles of time
But oh, how heavy were those hammers !
Barbarian was the conspiracy
And beastly were those hands which hit him
Cultures remained silent when vultures ruled
They cut him into pieces

O Buddha !
Where . . . where are you hurt !
A haunting cry hovered through the silence
"Don't you see I am a stone statue
Stone statue ,only a stone statue"

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DON'READ MADAN MOHAN TARUN

-MadanMohan Tarun

Don't read Madan Mohan Tarun
For your day -to -day need

Don't read Madan Mohan Tarun
For your college

Don't read Mohan Mohan tarun
For any knowledge

Don't read Madan Mohan Tarun
For your darling and dear

Don't read Madan Mohan Tarun
If you are a man of fear

Don't read Madan Mohan Tarun
If you have a mirror .

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WHY

-Madan Mohan Tarun

Why should I look,
As you look?

Why should I laugh,
As you laugh?

Why should I sing,
As you sing?

Why should I Write,
As you write?

Why should I think,
As you think?

Why should I live,
As you live ?

The birth is mine
The life is mine
The heart is mine
The mind is mine.

I am the thumb
My own imprint

I am the glass
I am the drink

I am the ocean
I am the shark

I am the bird
I am the sky
I am the feather
I am the fly.

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READY IS THE BUS

- MadanMohanTarun

Dig out your grave
where you are lying dead
like a news paper of yesterday
already read.

This is the darkness
the end of the day
skeletons of trees
look like horrible ghosts
this is the end of May.

Birds are sleeping
and herds are at rest
horrible are the shadows
and the night is the guest.

Come at the roof of the night
what of that
if every thing is not bright.
can you hear
there are some sounds of new steps
the unknown is coming
there are knocks after the knocks
at the rusty gate

There is a new cry
from the womb of the pregnant night
darkness does not produce always ghosts
who knows it may be light.

Each and all
Are waiting for the new,
curtains to be opened ,to have a view.

curiously charged are the
pulsating moments
heavy whispers
surround old tents

Roads are not yet fully visible
not clear is the face of new universe
but people are ready
and ready is the bus.

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BASTARDS

- MadanMohan Tarun

O Lord!
You are not a bastard
,br> Fathered by all
Knowingly or by fault
From the itches of Bitches
Hungry for all the comforts
By fastest ways of riches

O Almighty!
You are born
By the people
Beyond all the existing norms
Very specially designed
In your forms

O creator of your own constitutions!
A safest castle from all botherations
O equipped with mighty weapons of discretion!

For the sake of safety of your personal pleasures
O destroyer of others achievements
You are not a bastard ! You have big offices
To sit and shit

O Lord!
But ,you are not a bastard

even your farting is glorified
and for the same
you are known as a great singer
but others
in your presence with great achievements
are prohibited to stand anywhere
O Lord!
But ,you are not a bastard

Your hands are loaded
With the same old tools
You are accompanied
By the same old rascals
And the same old fools

They look like vultures
But they are symbols of cultures

You run murderer's ministry
But your presence
Glorifies the history

O Lord!
But ,you are not a bastard

O Lord!
Nothing is allowed to go taller than you
Nothing is allowed to go higher than you

O Lord!
No body can have more fame than you
No body can have
Heavier and longer name than you
It is a highly secured game of you

O Lord!
But ,you are not a bastard

O snatcher of others hard earned rewards!
O destroyer of others recognition, others awards!

O Lord!
Your every game is brutally mastered
But, you are not a bastard.
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HAVE YOU EVER

-MadanMohan Tarun


Have you
Ever danced like waves of the oceans
In the darkest possible lonely nights
Far from the crowed and glittering eyes
Of appreciation

Have you
Ever passed on your cycle alone
Through the lonely sleepy muddy
Road of the village
Singing your heart
At the peak of your flow

Have you
bloomed like a flower
In the loneliest forest
Where no one is present to
Smell and enjoy

Have you
Ever gone to your subliminal depth
The domain of silence
Where your own self rests
O


STRANGE

-MadanMohan Tarun


Promised Dashrath
The bow was broken by Raam
Married was the Sita !

I never followed this story
With the best of my efforts.


TREE

-MadanMohan Tarun

There stands
A lonely dry tree
Like a cruel satire
Of life

Leaves have left their home
Birds have established
Some where else their dome

O


BOTHERED

-MadanMohan Tarun

My friends suggest me
Bow a little before them
They will accept you as their own

Smile a little when they smile
Show your teeth
If not all show one or two
But do as they do

Grow a little wise
To enjoy the life

But
What a fun
I am nothing
I am none

A most ordinary person
But only original

I eat my own rice
I sing my own song
I lead my own life

But why
Why
They are so much bothered of me ?

THIRTIETH OR THIRTY FIRST HANGING

-MadanMohan Tarun

Punishment of my 'Hang Till Death" was decided
Now they were creating crimes
To justify their orders

It is believed
The office was busy for the whole night
For this job
Employees were happy to earn more over time

The page of rules was being reviewed
Where the boss had left his pen open
And had gone in deep snoring sleeps

Illogical was being rationalized in their favo
By the highly paid officers for such jobs only

Gallows was being fixed
Between the blank space of
two lines of printed rules
Where I was to be hanged

Every sound was falling on me very heavily
The silence was staring constantly at me
Like a hard core detective
To search some more faults in me

This was not the first time
That I was going to be hanged
This was thirtieth or thirty first
Act of hanging of the month
Being performed on me
More cruel ,more ruthless and torturing
Than the earlier ones

My self respect had become my greatest enemy
They had established their offices around this
My friends had deserted me
My life had become a horror

Every moment passed through me
with it's heavy boots
I was deprived from everything
but from my crying soul

They could have easily thrown me out
Like a fly from the milk
But no, they did not do so
They used me as propaganda of their justice

They played me as their drum
of dedication to the nation
In the every street

They used me as their flag of victory
At times they hoisted me high on their bamboo
And shouted slogans of their great deeds

At times
they crushed me under their boots in public
And at my every cry
Justice sang songs of their victory
Of the people
For the people
By the people

Under the criminal frictions
of their internal administration
I was so much broken from everywhere
That I was unable to recognize
Where was my neck and where was the noose

In fact people were divided into two groups
One who had sympathy for me

By shift they used to weep for me in public
Some in the mornings
Some in the evenings
As a token of sympathy for me

People of other group used to prepare rope
with more better skill for my next hanging
As a token of respect for the authorities

But they were all intermingled among them selves
It was not possible to recognize
Who belonged to my group and who from theirs

At moments weepers in my sympathy
Used to cross the line
To prepare ropes for my next hanging
And
Experts in preparation of hanging rope
Used to cross the line to weep in my sympathy.

Between both the lines I was left alone
As I was none� nothing�
But a sheer instrument of their fun.

Br> YESTERDAY'S GLORY

-Madan Mohan Tarun

A Very old lady
but sharp and awake
cuts the life
like a backed brown cake.

Webs of face
lines of race
some are visible
some are guess

like a net of mysterious fisher,
catching waves

the time ,
sweet crime
but, who writes
these poems
with such tangled rhymes.

Tide is at rest
but eyes are glowing
face is shining
and hairs are blowing

steps are not firm
but she stands at the heights
keeping her glorious past
at her futures side

life is a song
but the source of it's melody is
rarely known
awaiting still for the unsung
the drops of nectar
life collects from

the fountain is ready
at the top to flow.

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HAA H HAA... HANTA �. HAA.. HANTA �.

-Madan Mohan Tarun

One day
I was sitting
By the side of an old pond
With a thin little water
Like a decaying page of the past
Words hardly seen

Never came beautiful women here
Giggling with shining teeth
Glittering in eyes
With flirting riddles

Only came elders
In the evenings to shit
And in the mornings
Children
With farting fits
It is like a melting pot of the life
Time cuts it daily
With it's cruel blunt knife

Night is spreading it's feathers
and shadows of unknown
are getting thicker and thicker

All at a sudden
With a whiffle of the breeze
Waves started creeping
With a song in whispers
Their voice was week
broken and meek

Young and elders
Brothers and sisters
Waves were saying to the pond- the mother

'Dear Maa!
stars come daily to play with the moon
and the sun
sits at his window for the whole day
to see the playful world and it's crazy fray

trees grow daily
with their tender branches
and silky little copper leafs
and birds fly
to touch the sky

O Mother !
Let rainy season come again
Let us dance with the drops of the rain
,br> O Mother , dear Mother !
With kisses of the new fishes
With heavy showers
and the new songs of ours
When you are full
And we like bull,br> Run out to the streets
and join the flooded rivers
join the ocean
And ride on the shoulders of the waves
spread our feathers of desires
like singing birds and fly
to touch the sky

The Pond mother
Thin and week
Eyes with full of tears
Kept her shivering palms
On the backs of her children dear

Farthest is the rainy season
Hot and burning is the May
Flames are nearing
Fearing are the days

The old Pond
aged and wise
Tears are full in her restless eyes
Wriggling in her wrinkles
looked at the sky
Where rain remains
Always at the top
At the untouchable heights

She has heard
the cries of the earth
she has heard the sounds of shackles
gushing chains and heavy hackles

sounds of digging and barking of dogs
movements of endless ambitions
of human hogs

when rainy season came
I went to the pond side
once again

No where was the pond
No where were the waves
The Children of tears
Brought up in fears

I see there
only
silky children and milky women
bulky men
with sulky witches
parks and pubs
greedy contractors
with their neighing and nasty itches
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DON'T TOUCH

-Madan Mohan Tarun

Don't touch �Don't touch �
My son Babaaji
Don't make yourself
A fun Baabaaji

Wash �wash �
Your hands Baabaaji
You have come here
by bus Baabaaji

Don't touch � Don't touch ..
My son Baabaaji

Bus over crowed
In rush Baabaaji
You carry many -many
Jerms Baabaaji

Wash ..wash ..wash
your hands Baabaaji
Don't touch �Don't touch ..
My son Baabaaji

My son like flower
My son is silky
You rotten old man
Dirty and dusty

Don't take �Don't take ..
Any chance Baabaaji
Try yourself to
Enhance Baabaaji
My son Baabaaji
Don't make yourself
A fun Baabaaji

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One Day

-Madan Mohan Tarun

One day
My mother told me
Perhaps to bold me

I was very shy
But the surrounding was dry

O my son !
Be gentle
But be always frank
Care every body
Not only the rank

This will keep you easy
Never repenting
But happy and busy

That day
She raised her finger
To wards the space
My Grand mother used to say
That is the country of desires
Creamy and gay
There await the fairies of shadows
In their future's palace.

'see any thing ?'
'nothing maa nothing'
I giggled and said
'but see only zero'
'like to be a hero ?'
mother asked

I nodded my head
Got up from my bed
My mother smiled
Her face was bright
Asked me to run
It was a fun

The road was thorny
Ditchy and corny
But I was running
Strong and full
Like a daring bull

What a scene!
Glory of the Godly beam
It was the end of the night
There was a shadow of beauty
Partly visible
Partly a mystery
She spread her arms
It was really warm.

'Hallow Mr. Zero
you are now hero'
My mother smiled
with zeal and joy
She almost cried Like a open letter of promotion
Which was so far filed

. She laughed and told
O my son !
Keep always bold

The earth and sky
Belong to those
Who are ready to open
the gates of unknown
who keep ready to bloom
even on the branches of
flames and gloom

Those who keep lame
And only complain
Who only complain and blame
But
those who play this daring game
with the zeal of tides
and might of flames
they only drink and enjoy
the rare nectar of fame.

'see the sky ?
or
'No mom no ,
Look my feathers
I am ready to fly .'

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OH , you!

-Madan Mohan Tarun

No �Nah � never�
I cannot forget that moment ever
When I saw you first time

Your eyes were celebrating
The festival of sixteenth spring

Your pinkish lips were
flaming with desires
your silky body was melting in me
like a resless river of fire

Oh ! your giggling teeth
Your shrilling movements
Your burning lips
Your curves ,your heights
Your thrilling hips

You were flowing like a fountain
From your melting mountain
You were glowing
Under your hairy night
My values were submerged
in your flooded river of body
in your waves
it was not a moment of wrong and right
It was a moment of intoxicating wine

MEN AND MEN and WOMEN

-MadanM -MadanMohan Tarun

We are the same centuries old
Men and women
Born from the unclear frost of the creation
Homed on the waves of the endless desires
We created the sky for our ambitions
We crated the Earth to enjoy
The hard realities of life
like a strong back bone within a silky body
We created the sun and the moon
with our teethy giggles
We created flowers with our smiles
The ocean ,our bed
The bridge and typhoon
Our hairs game
We created new lives
With our gust of thrills and frills
During our madest moments of games of
gushing and hustlings of our
Jumping desires
We are born again and again
In spite of all the revolutions
Despite of all the revelations
We are the same
Ancient,not old
Idiots of intellect
Lusty,thirsty and unconqured.
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