Manipulating words

This month’s poet NIKI BRAHMA’s poetry can be read aloud

POETRY EDITOR ANANYA S GUHA WRITES:

Niki Brahma who hails from Assam is only nineteen years old. Her poems have a soft lyricism and she has an unique way of manipulating words, yet keeping them poetic and lyrical. Her range of experience also is striking for such a young person. Read these poems- aloud!

(If you are a poet and want to be featured in this column, please write to our Poetry Editor Ananya S Guha at nnyguha48@gmail.com)

REVENGE
The curled locked eyes,
the demon inside
Riding in the twilight
with his name inscribed
No shine, no mercy.
The scars of desires
marked that only death can see it.
The hard stoned ashes,
ain’t going anywhere.
A sour grave
A sweet journey,
That queer light,
that strange sound.
Blood in the Armour
with his name inscribed
No shine, no mercy.
The wind in a fearless mind.
The cluttering sound,
that strange sound
and the majestic charm.

GOODBYE

Light as a feather,
Soft like the softest heart
that one goes and goes,
waving goodbyes
with a silent note.
Those eyes that read
with no name,
no biography.
Far to the east,
far to the west.
Goodbyes are same
that haunting eyes,
you never know
what aliens you catch.
The last goodbye,
with a silent note
but it was never waved again.

THE ONLY ONE
Looks like the road,
is too rough
not so smooth
since he chose
he doesn’t want to choke.

But he fears,
the wind
and the tiny pointed pebbles,
Standing he weighs and
measures the dusty,
clean road.

Any armageddon is not
expected,
still a voodoo
is somewhat surprising.

Theory says it is far,
that land only lunatics cross.
Busy in sketching,
the strange map,
don’t know if the road accepts.

The jewels are hard
the bushes may bite you,
only the road can lead you.

LURKING BRAIN CREATURE
Such uniqueness created
Unfurling all the minds
only usury, selfishness
No humanitarian noticed
love finds no way to germinate.

Dislodged from the eternal love,
there is no morning routine to rouse
and lingers in a covert room.

An embargo inscribed,
a special emissary cannot be called
Such exposure cannot be controlled
and the old cannot be grasped again.

Feeble-minded ideas round up,
but can’t resist the emissary
and ain’t no inept moment wanted
it may burn spontaneously.

The life weighs ponderous,
maybe the thought is malformed.
I surrendered ,
and you killed me.

THE FUGITVE

So, soft tender throb,
no exceeding excitement
just a little numbness.

Is it for that soul!
that deranged one
for whom she didn’t survive the fall.

Residing in every sigh,
even the chanting seems useless
Bewitched by the charm of a wizard
No black magic,
neither miracle could be heard.

Disguised as a messenger,
even those eyes could tell
Instead it could be called a leviathan.

The melancholic solitary heart
nearly at the edge,
despairingly lamented for him.

That trust based on love,
hijacked the innocent soul
and the burial went in vain.

Niki Brahma

Niki Brahma

Nikki Brahma is a Physics graduate. She likes writing poems, reading mythology books and knowing everything about the extra terrestrial beings.