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Shishir Gupta  (email)


About the Poet:

Shishir currently resides in India and is a returning poet to Poetry Cemetery.  In his own words: "I am author/poet given to uncovering inner fracs in human mind and giving the chaos some semblance of rational sanity."



I know not who I am


I know not who I am,
I need not know who I am,
nobody knows who I am,
nobody will ever know who I am,
I will never know who I am,
you need not know who I am,
for that knowledge is best not obtained,
as it has so much to reveal,
that you would be required to know,
all that is around you,
and with all that you interact,
in time and space ,
and in realm of ideas and concepts,
that it will boggle your brain,
for a life time and more,
so it is best that,
you continue your journey,
quite unknown and unnamed.



The Hypocrisy


This man was suited,
and flew luxury class,
he was high ranking official
of a bureaucracy,
on one flight back,
I followed him in his life,
second by second,
he was called to a far off city,
to lecture on human resources,
he talked about employee motivation,
employee empowerment,
work conditions,
job definitions,
and blah blah what not,
his trip and lecture had costed thousands of dollars,
but he was skating on bureaucratic rollers,
he returned to his work,
which was human management in his bureacracy,
he fired his bright subordinate just because,
he was busy and forgot to wish him,
he stopped normal pay and perks of another brighter guy,
just because he did not like his face,
he transferred another able guy to zanzibar,
because he had a score to settle,
he got other staff to relegate another victim,
in a corner without work,
he saw to it that his folks,
ill educated and poor performing,
got promoted,
he stymied the promotions of a few bright guys,
at the end of day he had a smile,
on his face,
of a man that was elite,well placed,secure,
and communist at that,
his smile was a material smile,
without ethics or principles,
his smile was expectant,
of returns to the favors he had granted,
he still had another talk to deliver,
on human resources management again,
and he calculated and planned,
that he would return with the same airline as they had nice wine,
and the number of heads that gonna roll,
after his return,
and the number of heads that gonna loll,
after his return,
his talk and his deeds had no link,
because it was not so said in his job contract,
and the matter written in it with bureaucratic ink.


What pass we are at


This can be done,
and it is not,
promise is made,
to buy time and,
let it all go by,
machine works for us,
and we work for machine,
in between we do not work at all,
whatever comes in between,
is all lost,
the human initiative and touch,
in a dehumanised society,
if you are not a byte,
you do not enter,
you are not admitted,
you are not given passport,
you are not issued a driving licence,
you are not  allowed voting rights,
and you are not a citizen,
machine solution is simple,
and anything beyond it is tough,
complex,mad and not done,
is it what we intended with machines,
that we forget initiative and courtesy,
to work solutions away from machines,
when needed and needed bad,
this way we are only proving more 'green',
and would ultimately turn red.



Help her Carve for Halloween


She was a little toddler,
Rotund with baby flesh,
All over,
Eyes shining in anticipation and excitement,
She was the one I had,
Her mother had died in child birth years ago,
My little one was reared in my manly care,
Though it was at best bare,
Leaving me sad,
All that I saw since was red,
And felt less good than bad,
I often lay morose and down,
I lit up only when she was shown,
Often it was she who came to my bed,
Caressing me with those little palms,
Rubbing those ruddy cheeks against mine hot ones,
Looking deep in her blue eyes,
Made me feel that I had deep sea dive with a sigh,
All days were alike for me-sad and forlorn,
But she was discovering and frolicking like a latest born,
Today she came,
While I was still mentally lame,
She had a secretive look,
As if she had something on brook,
She coyly smiled,
Lighting me for a little while,
And left, yes simply left,
She would come to me every fifteen minutes,
But now she was gone for an hour,
I weakly lifted and walked to her room,
There it all looked mire than ever in need of broom,
There she was in a corner on the carpet,
With pumpkin flesh all over the floor,
And on her face, hands, legs as if in a messy gore,
She had a knife in her hand,
And she was stooping on a murdered pumpkin,
As I called her she looked up,
She had long forgotten about her sup,
Her eyes met mine,
An energy flashed into me,
Her innocence and joi de vivre went up livid,
And I could remember this day quite vivid,
It was this day years ago when her mother had flown,
Leaving my baby and me on my own,
But now the mother came alive in her baby,
And was saying ,"dead I may be",
Rise up and make her life,
Look at her preen,
And help her carve for Halloween.




Triggered emotions,
ran haywire,
in veins,
pulsing all along,
the perfume,
gently rubbed,
at vantage points,
was jigjagged,
in seesaw,
told people around,
that it was my sound,
that I had arrived,
totally and fully contrived.



Mutation Spectre


Three legs,
four eyes,
five hands,
and two heads,
they could not beleive,
he was there,
and born,
but they had to,
when they saw him ahem!,
what could they do,
look bewildered and flat,
and in shock do a full spat,
they walked around,
looked him full,
it was an average hour,
they spent with him,
in single or groups,
then they returned,
very seldom to come back,
to work their lives,
with two legs,
two eyes,
two hands
and a head.



Back to City


Self pity,
Right in the middle of,
A populous city,
Crying tears of anguish,
That had gnawed deep in,
By years spent in sin,
Exasperated he said,
He was acquitted,
And had not done one misdeed,
It was the city,
That he had to heed,
It flowed like flood waters,
And made him a rafter,
He was after all hapless,
Puny human being,
Who everybody was seeing,
As he was everybody else,
Otherwise he would not have fallen false,
It is them,
At the helm,
And not he,
For all that and more,
Self pity was gone,
And he was back to city,
Once more.



Vain Glory


In vain,
The entire body had taut veins,
For vain glory,
Brought immense pressures,
To cut them down to size,
One looked for a good thresher.



Frisky Mind


Blissfully sneaked into zeros,
the mind was playing zero sum games,
permutations and combinations whirled in maze,
calculating gain was tough,
scared stiff of the loss,
mind began seeing loss,
where it was to gain,
it was so over worked,
that it did not feel that it worked,
working had becme a habit,
as if it was a carefree frisking rabbit,
rabbit collapsed of exhaustion,
and loss was immense,
zero sum game was lost,
for some time,
when it got back on track,
now the brain looked back,
saw the futility,
and overall loss,
whenever it went untoward fast,
it preferred to close shop,
and hit the sack.



Wailing Tale


wailing shrieks,
of the old and sick,
yawning sores,
as they moved,
as if cruel cuts,
bleary eyes,
which could not see,
even things by the sides,
as they moved limbs,
the molten carrion,
moved the flaky bones,
thinned blood,
no longer withstood,
it was like a fading gel,
which skin barely held,
pain,growth,exhaustion and tears,
now made their years,
only one steel rod,
running undulating through their bodies,
held them on,
it was spirit,
fed by years of experience,
and thoughts of HIS essence,
they ever wondered,
when would all this be shed,
and they would begin life anew thence



Proud Sky

Harsh sky,
inexplicably blank,
A lonesome me amidst crowd,
stared for recognition up,
and seek a connection,
between ground and heaven,
came none,
cruel sky,
spoke of none,
it quietly saw,
me getting lonelier in crowd,
it would not descend,
it was too proud.



The Right

Heed it,
it is right,
do not fight,
it is right,
if you fight,
dust you will bite,
if you do not,
you manipulated,
right to wrong,
and sang your song,
now you will fight,
because you have your own right,
but you have at best a short sight,
somewhere it is still right,
and there you cannot manipulate,
however hard you may try,
you have now added to your account,
and have to explain all the wrongs,
that you did along with this one,
there you will have no chance to fight,
because they have a right,
to punish you for ignoring the right.



Sleeps in Sleeps

I slept,
as if I was a dog kept,
sleep was long and deep,
in future,past and present it peeped,
I worked hard and slept,
in my sleep,
as if I was a dog kept,
sleeping inside sleep was not new,
but I slept inside second sleep,
again working like logging woods,
and slept,
again like a dog kept,
I do not know how many sleeps made me sleep with in,
But I was in coma,
and behind layers of sleep,
it was like a fog web,
that had crawled all over,
and wept,
a jerk made me wake up,
the web collapsed,
and reality came in focus all wrapped.


Coach Man

Rein me in,
a hard leather pull in,
would help,
restrain me full,
whenever direction is astray,
to have a coach man,
to the coach,
you are horsing,
very few coaches have,
that luck,
that you are there is luck,
but relax the rein,
all the way,
until my mein,
when I am alright,
and giving a true honest fight.



Bitter Words

Tossed in the air,
the words hung tough,
they would not budge,
as if set by unseen forces,
the forces that did not want,
them to climb down,
and reach ears,
he who had spoken,
was stunned,
he was still unheard of,
hours after being spoken,
speaker sought mercy,
that let continuation be heard,
that he was restrained,
but forces that be,
did not yield,
they had a fair game at hand,
their job was to hold and restrain,
they did just that,
did not allow words,
that were bitter,
and could have hurt,
and shot them flat.




Speak Truth,
See Truth,
Hear Truth,
Do the truth,
What about half,
Or various shades of truth,
Don't SSH or D,
Because its all false.



Rebirth of Adages

Old adages,
Growing older with ages,
Wrapped inside,
Torn books,
And periodicals,
A dislike grown out of over their use,
And failures after their use,
And their newness in old times,
Had bundled into hatred,
Adage repositories,
Were thrown in attics that be,
And remained there for untold years,
Curiosity unburied them now,
Discovery was stunning,
And shaking,
Adages came waking,
Each word was born anew,
And had a wonderful meaning,
More importantly they were ancient wisdom,
We must learn lessons from the past,
Our own adages,
Must be understood now and here,
And not buried,
For "them" to read years later "there".



Partridge Space

Two plain partridges,
Scared and confident,
Scared like they always used to be,
Confident like never before,
Urban partridges,
Plain, bland and shy birds,
Who dwelled on branches,
Corners near and around our homes,
Partridges who flew away,
On approach of even human shadow,
A pair of such partridges couple,
Had nested outside my door,
Strangely now they saw me,
Perhaps even made an eye contact,
But did not even show a flutter,
Not to talk of flight,
They jostled necks in jitters,
But stood their seats,
Their blood eyes darted,
But did not seek path of flight,
On a careful look,
I saw that female was laden with eggs,
She was cosy and warm,
And the hubby snuggled along,
On such an occasion,
They were seeking space in locality,
From their human cousins.