Tuesday, February 1, 2022

LILY SWARN



LILY SWARN

 

An Opera House Called Zindagi

 

After all I’m a creation of some unknown desire

Of the universe to keep itself ticking

Who knows what quantum physics is trying to explain?

 

The vast repertoire of knowledgeable tomes

Piling up in mountainous heaps in dusty bookshelves

Worm infested; musty rose buds pressed inside sepia pages

 

You and I are living our nominated time

Ticking like time bombs waiting to explode

Fanciful Avtars with gregarious appetites for living

 

Jaded expressions

Predictable smiles

Artfully designed

To suit our environments

 

A piece of exquisite art is each human

Every cell a fascinating miniature painting

 

A lip, an eye, a heart, a mind

Appearing on walls of life like murals

Painstakingly shaded, block printed,

Tied and dyed with vegetable dyes

 

Crumbling into heaps of ashes

Carefully collected into urns

By relatives in a rush to catch their planes and trains

To get back to this Opera House called Zindagi

Copyright Lily Swarn 29.11.2021

 

The Real One!

 

Waiting in real time for a real person

Different from screen images of filtered flawlessness

 

A flesh and blood human whose eyes crinkle when she laughs

Whose forehead wrinkles as she concentrates on images

Flashing on her tireless phone

 

It’s ripe with possibilities!

This wait for a gurgling laugh

Only heard over the sound waves before

 

The look in her eyes as she surreptitiously sizes you up

With discreetly inquisitive eyes

 

The artfully careless flick of her tiny hand

As she tucks a wayward lock of trailing hair

Behind her all-absorbing ears

 

The undercurrents of tension zigzagging beneath her pores

Trying to fit the virtual into a mould

That has a pulse and a heartbeat

 

It’s doubly mysterious

A Woman and then the real one!

Copyright Lily Swarn 26.11.2021

 

Close To Your Heart

 

You always seem to have a pair of reading glasses

And a cheeky pen peeping out of your shirt pocket

It appears as if they won’t tolerate any intrusion whatsoever

On their privileged space close to your heart

The glasses are precariously balanced in the recesses

And the pen seems sharp and menacing enough

But you don’t know me !

I’ll find a place to put my head on your chest

Despite your over possessive companions

It’s my rightful place too

And look, I’m inching closer

Not like the Chinese soldiers

On the eastern borders though!

Copyright Lily Swarn 21.11.2021

 

LILY SWARN

 

LILIY SWARN: Internationally acclaimed, multilingual poet, author, columnist. gold medalist, university colour holder, radio show host, Peace and Humanity Ambassador, writes different genres. A Trellis of Ecstasy, (Poetry )called a veritable delight by The Journal of Commonwealth literature, London. The Gypsy Trail, (novel), launched by the Governor of Punjab, Lilies of the Valley, (essays) History on My Plate (food) got rave reviews and was serialized in newspapers. Rippling Moonbeams is her latest anthology. She won over 50 international and national awards like Reuel International Prize for Poetry, Global Icon of Peace, Sahitya Rattan, Gujarat Sahitya Akademi Award ,2020, and 2021 Order of Shakespeare Medal,25 Women of Excellence. Her work features in numerous international anthologies and magazines and is invited for global literary meets. Lily’s poetry has been translated into over 16 languages, her Urdu ghazals put to music. A nominee for Lifetime Achievement Award and finalist for Global Culture Champion Award by She Inspires Awards,UK.I


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