Hearing a festival
The promotional colored handbills
are in a fancy flight of freedom.
Roads cheer; wind blows; children dance, couples.
These are the special sounds to a deaf.
Once the festival ends I shall make
an appointment with the doctor
about my mom’s problem with hearing.
A balloon with a cute face shows up.
It has traveled all the way to stick
to a branch of a tree in backyard.
My mother screams something. It’s a season
to get loud and still be very normal.
=© 2009-Copyright reserved Kushal Poddar (reprinting is absolutely prohibited, without permission)
a survey on the famine
An old man, distant steeples and trees;
a stray dog at home with those lean feet,
the noon is too lazy not to sleep;
slip down the dreams of nothing, nothing.
Radio has warned of a famine.
The lenders are circling the blond fields.
Ask these elements about their
favorite words; ask about products;
ask about the numbers of son died.
Convince that this survey has virtues
and then ask for a glass of water.
Now the old man wakes up; licks his lips.
=© 2009-Copyright reserved Kushal Poddar (reprinting is absolutely prohibited, without permission)
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Comments: 84
Great comment.
Hearing a festival
I loved the first one for the emotion in it and the thoughts to help your Mother to hear and enjoy life.
I also loved the second one for totally different reasons - ask, but what will the answer be? No, no water today.
Many ask, but don't care. Excellent!
Marilyn
Hearing a festival
There are many venues where the hearing disabled person feels like they fit in. Their louder than normal speech is considered the norm in a carnival atmosphere. No one will see that they are different by their need to over vocalize.
Featured in the Triple Name Club.
As for the second song, the predators who feed on death now claim the golden fields of corn. The people will starve, but mislead by the fight that takes their sons away, they will not see it. They should war against the predators, not some outsider.
Teach our children well-- learn from those around us who we admire; remain as students for life and learn to extend ourselves as teachers. Platitudes? Cliche? Or mindful living and investment in personal accountability?
"what's that you say...could you speak up a little. I've grown older and weary of the din?" There's good thinking and expressing here. Passing on the torch.
Famines are fortunately rarer now the Indian Government has grain reserves. When I was a kid we were always raising money to send food for the near annual indian famines.
We meant well but we sent european foods they didn't want, that we gave out free, under-cutting their own food growers, ruining their agriculture further.
Aid, except short-term for natural disasters, almost always has unintended consequences, and often does more harm than good.
We didn't understand that and thought we were helping. As I say we meant well.
All of this came back as I read your second poem....well done indeed!
10 4 u
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ps. working on the secret.
Thanks Robert.
lol
Robert read this:
conversations
Kitty won't guess this Ku. See you on Wednesday. cheshire cat indeed, who knew they came in twins. lmao
Thanks for posting to my group, Anythingwriting
conversations
All one can do is to deal with it as best as possible. Writing about it is one way to deal with it.
delivering the daily prose to his loyal followers...I will wait in anticipation O bard.
"a survey on the famine" is excellent in its thought processes. The ending brings this poetic work to a fabulous conclusion.
WELL DONE Poddar ~ WELL DONE!