Poetry Corner* Dr. Archan Mehta

 

 Love Song For Lavanya Lahiri

Lavanya, when we were together

I could not say

The things I needed

To say: so, instead,

I wrote you this poem.

Lavanya, I know now,

From having known you

For so long, that the sun

Sits gently on your fair,

Young and innocent shoulders

And sensitively touches your

Skin and how that makes you

Feel blessed, as if you are chasing

Butterflies and playing with bunny

Rabbits smack dab in the middle

Of the proverbial Garden of Eden.

Lavanya, every breath I take reminds

Me of you: the way you would play

With your long, jet-black hair,

Your laughter when you found

My joke funny, even your human imperfections

Had men chasing after you like panting

Dogs frothing at the mouth.

Lavanya, I remember now how

Your dimpled cheeks, when you smiled,

Would chase away the gloomy clouds

From the evil sky and how the demonic

Chills of an icy winter would embrace

You warmly when the rest of us

Foolish mortals had to huddle in

Front of an open fireplace burning

Slowly in my living room.

Lavanya, don’t abandon me

Now for greener pastures

You have discovered on 

Foreign shores: please send me

The sweet perfume of your

Nubile and fertile body to 

Stop me from shivering

Without your company.

Lavanya, I have noticed

That when you are not

Around, the birds outside

My window suffer from

The empty nest syndrome,

The moon, in the night sky,

Suddenly covers her face

And the stars form a constellation:

A portrait of you which lights

Up the darkness enveloping our world.

Lavanya, rest assured, the only way

You can please me would be for

You to ride on a magic carpet

And visit me at home:

Let it be a pleasant surprise,

However, but rest assured,

I will be waiting for you,

My beloved, with a bouquet

Of freshly-cut red roses in

One hand and a bottle of wine

In my other hand: I will, once

Again, welcome you into my

Life with a song on my lips,

A dance in my steps, and we

will be united as if we had

never parted in the first place.

BIO:

Dr. Archan Mehta has earned a PhD. in Management. Currently, he is a Consultant and Writer based in India. In his free time, Dr. Mehta likes to stroll in the outdoors and party with close friends. He is also fond of meditation. Please feel free to reach out to the poet at archanm@hotmail.com at your convenience.

Poetry Corner* Dr. Archan Mehta

 

 An Ode to You and I, Sky.

Today,

I don’t know

What to say

But to utter

The words:

“I love you.”

Somewhere, out there,

In the wild and barren

Desert I call my life

I finally discovered

An oasis in your

Fertile, nubile eyes:

You eyes fluttered

And acquired wings

And started to fly

Like a butterfly.

Even so, in mid-flight,

This butterfly was arrested

By the corrupt police,

Who ordered you

To return to my heart.

My soul feels lonely

Without your warm embrace.

That is why my soul

Searches for you everywhere

When you disappear, suddenly:

When you are not around,

My soul despairs and 

pines for you,

For only you,

My love, and for

Nobody else but you.

When you leave me alone,

My nails scratch the

Surface of the moon

In a vain attempt

To find you lurking behind

A volcano or a hill

Or a mountain or a valley.

Are you hiding 

Behind a winking star?

Where are you?

How do I locate you?

Oh, pray where

Can I find you, beloved?

Please send me a map

Of our universe and give

Me the exact directions

So I can find the tiny

Dot where I lost my

Heart but discovered art.

When you walk

On the surface of 

A wave, make sure

You reach the shore

Where I will be

Waiting for you,

To pick you up

Like expectant relatives

Waiting to receive their

Kith and kin at airports.

You are like the

Oxygen of this air

I breathe

And my lungs

Are crying out

For only you.

Yet, despite my

Passionate pleas,

You conveniently avoid me

Like a fugitive from justice,

And still I keep on loving

The criminal lurking within

The DNA of your being.

When you are away,

I remember how your

Smile makes the 

Ocean part, so I can

Reach safely and hit

Dry land, so I do not

Drown and lose my life

In your arrogant, dreamy

And oceanic eyes.

When I eat dinner alone,

I reserve a chair at the

Table for you and I

Have to pretend

You are there for

Me to provide company.

Every morsel of food,

Every sip of fine wine,

Reminds me of you.

In the hour of twilight,

I feel like screaming

Your name and I

Wish upon a star

You will fall into

My arms like

Snowflakes during

A winter storm

Descending from heaven.

BIO:

Dr. Archan Mehta has earned a PhD. in Management. Currently, he is a Consultant and Writer based in India. In his free time, Dr. Mehta likes to stroll in the outdoors and party with close friends. He is also fond of meditation. Please feel free to reach out to the poet at archanm@hotmail.com at your convenience.

Poetry Book Review* In Fullness of the Word

"In Fullness of the Word" is as precious as a family heirloom, passed down from generations.  Symbolically speaking, this book is indeed a family heirloom.

It is a valuable collection and keepsake representing the beauty, history, depth, tapestry, and lineage of people of color, expressed through poetic form.

Over 20 Black Poet Laureates, from across the globe, whose lives intersect through their love for the written word, their humanity, their commonality of experiences as Black Americans, come together, producing a harmony akin to a seasoned church choir. 

This makes me very proud to provide this review for Black History Month.

From page one, until the book is done, readers will be engaged, enlightened, entertained, and empowered. This creative "gumbo" will leave readers "full", through the diversity of voices and viewpoints. Themes range from love gone wrong; to frustrations faced by poets experiencing writer's block; to protest pieces; to motivational poems; and even some cleverly crafted Haikus.  

Edited by Rhea Carmon, it contains nearly 200 pages (including interesting bios and photos) from the accomplished and talented contributors.

There were so many excellent selections, it would be difficult to list all of them that stood out here today.

But here are a few:

We have a New Dream, by Henry Jones states: "Silence is an echoed form of acceptance which allows the hatred to spread." Pg. 148  

In the poem Fix, Kim B. Miller writes: "You are not a broken people repair kit. They can heal without you." Pg. 2

Another impressive body of work were the pieces of Angelo 'Eyeambic' Geter.

Pgs. 46-54

This anthology deserves a place in every poetry lover's personal library.

I rate it 5 ***** stars.

Image credit: Henry L. Jones

 

Poetry Corner * Dr. Archan Mehta

Adult Dreamer?

Gentle readers:

What can I say?

I admit it:

I was a dreamy child,

Who enjoyed nothing more

Than the free ride

Of the imagination.

I was fascinated by nature:

Mountains, hills, trees and flowers,

Spoke to me directly and intimately.

In contrast,

I felt suffocated

By formal education

And could even feel the

Walls of a classroom

Holding me like

A prisoner forced

Into a jail cell.

Instead, I longed to

Break free and play

In the outdoors, hug trees

And smell the roses.

I disliked interacting with

Aggressive people with

A bossy or bullying nature.

Hence, I longed to

Break free of organizations

And institutions, such as

Marriage, family, workplace, etc.

I loved to watch

Children at play

And longed to play with them.

I wished to own the

Sky, ocean, pond, lake and river

And longed to ride

A tidal wave

Breaking into the land.

Strangers found me odd

And I found strangers odd.

Thus, literature was my

Only refuge

And books were

My best friends:

In solitude,

I would dream about

Stars enjoying a siesta

In the late afternoon,

And I would imagine

The sun crawling

Along the sky

Like a reclusive turtle.

I wanted only

To be left alone,

So I could day dream

About a brighter, new dawn.

Unburdened of worldly attachments,

I wished to roam

Wild and free

Like a gypsy, drifter or vagabond

Adrift in his own universe

Like a rudderless ship,

In the ocean, without 

A compass for guidance.

Thus, I wished to lose

Track of space and time

And drink the elixir

Of an inner wisdom, divine. 

BIO:

Dr. Archan Mehta has earned a PhD. in Management. Currently, he is a Consultant and Writer based in India. In his free time, Dr. Mehta likes to stroll in the outdoors and party with close friends. He is also fond of meditation. Please feel free to reach out to the poet at archanm@hotmail.com at your convenience.

Poetry Corner* Dr. Archan Mehta

 Muse

I do not

Know when you

Will visit me.

Why do you torment

My soul?

You are as unpredictable

As the weather and I

Can’t even catch you.

Where will you go?

When will you return?

My heart is burned

In several places

But you leave no traces

Of your comings and goings

And I can’t write anymore

Thanks to your nature.

You have your moody

Spells, nineteen to the dozen,

And I have lost count of

The times I have begged

An invitation,

But you do not care

Even if I dare and wear

My heart on my sleeve.

Please don’t say you will

Meet me at five

And disappear in a style

Which reveals your character.

I have deadlines to meet

So rise from your dreadful sleep

And give me a break

So I can walk to

The yonder lake

And write a poem:

And, just for a change,

Don’t play games:

Even with my artistic flair

I am compelled to ask:

Will you be there?

Or are you lost to art?

Have you found a 

New master to tease?

Muse,

Don’t forsake me, please.

BIO:

Dr. Archan Mehta has earned a PhD. in Management. Currently, he is a Consultant and Writer based in India. In his free time, Dr. Mehta likes to stroll in the outdoors and party with close friends. He is also fond of meditation. Please feel free to reach out to the poet at archanm@hotmail.com at your convenience.

Image credit: Pixabay.com

Poetry Corner* Dr. Archan Mehta

 

Dr. Archan Mehta has earned a PhD. in Management. Currently, he is a Consultant and Writer based in India. In his free time, Dr. Mehta likes to stroll in the outdoors and party with close friends. He is also fond of meditation. Please feel free to reach out to the poet at archanm@hotmail.com at your convenience.

ON CREATING POETRY

It is midnight and

I feel as if

My brain has

Popped out of its skull.

Why?

Well, because I create

Poetry and I am a poet:

I am losing my sanity,

But insanity is a good thing

Because this pleasant

Madness, after all, enables

Me to create poetry.

Thus, I move from here

To there but I know I

Am not going anywhere.

The only fever

I have is for poems.

Otherwise,

Life goes on

At an even pace,

And I feel bored to death.

Therefore, as it turns out,

Poetry is the only saving grace.

Otherwise, I feel almost as if life

Is devoid of any meaning or purpose.

Meanwhile, life rolls on like

The taste of scotch

On your tongue and

You feel almost as

If you are less than one.

Only those who create

Poetry can be considered winners.

The rest of us, I guess, are sinners

Who are destined to walk 

The plank on board

A pirate’s ship—or we

Are like condemned prisoners

Sent to the gallows or we

Are fated to be dropped

Into a raging inferno of nothingness.

Therefore, let poets, like lava,

Emerge slowly but surely

From an erupting volcano

And pray let that volcano

Burn and rage for an eternity.

After all, only poetry can

Lend a helping hand to

Feed and soothe our souls

And heal wounds which we

Have accumulated over

A life-time and even beyond.

Finally, poetry will enable

Mankind to escape from

The transient pleasures

And pains of our bodies

To embrace our shared

And collective experience

Of cosmic consciousness.

Poetry Corner* Dr. Archan Mehta

 Literary Pursuits

I do not raise

A bottle to my lips

To drown my sorrows,

But drinking helps me

To forget about you.

I wanted to pursue

You like adolescent boys

Panting after girls 

Wearing micro-mini skirts

But you remained

Outside of my reach.

Even so, I loved how, page

After page, revealed

Your deep and dark secrets

But you were a cave

And I felt lost inside of it.

There were also times

When I felt your soul

Was an area of darkness.

But I did not utter a word

Of protest since I majored

In a subject called economics.

As the years chugged along,

You and I had an uneasy

Relationship and you had

No sense of time

And I found myself

Lost in this bottle of wine.

BIO:

Dr. Archan Mehta has earned a PhD. in Management. Currently, he is a Consultant and Writer based in India. In his free time, Dr. Mehta likes to stroll in the outdoors and party with close friends. He is also fond of meditation. Please feel free to reach out to the poet at archanm@hotmail.com at your convenience.