Showing posts with label Udit Bhatia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Udit Bhatia. Show all posts

Saturday, 1 August 2020

Udit Bhatia, Poetry 2020 Longlist

Nostradamus' Curse

Boulevard of broken dreams, 

Muted smiles and resounding screams. 

Notwithstanding the dangerous sniff, 

World at the precipice of a cliff.


Brandishing guns and piercing arrows, 

Of deep coffins and high gallows. 

The edifice of mortal bricks, 

Astute tactics and cheap tricks.


Like the hymn which a brahmin sings, 

Like the echo from a Mosque rings, 

Gathering the things which we all took for granted. 

The temporal existence we all chanted. 



Tied to our vicinity 

Competing in the death race. 

Shitting on the land 

While trying to conquer space. 



The stars gaze bewildered, 

Seeing the human guile. 

Human kind it seems, 

Has gone for an exile 



Wealth and power and the hubris 

Reduced to a scanty debris. 

The time still as lion looking at a fawn, 

Dilapidated lives waiting for a new dawn. 



Invisible future and visible unknown, 

Opulence never felt so lone. 

As the world crumbles to the ground, 

Beethoven's sonata plays in the background. 



Red oceans and lives lost, 

Epiphany came at a cost. 

Distances measured and maps plotted, 

Of no use after death allotted. 



Poet with tears in eyes, starts to speak, 

Humans jostling, lifestyles tweak. 

United in misery, together we pray. 

Nature finds a way to separate wheat from hay.

Thursday, 15 August 2019

Udit Bhatia, Poetry 2019 Shortlist

Apostrophe
 
Stepping out on the tarmac,
As the new winds struck my visage.
Chasing the dreams I yearned for,
Felt like finally coming off age.
The cobbled streets and grand structures,
Pristine 'scapes all around.
The manicured views I saw,
Made my love more profound.
The dreams engulfed myself,
The infinity seemed near.
World was my playground,
Life felt on top gear!
The daily chore continued,
As I beyond the confined.
Flying like a bird, oblivious,
To what I had left behind.
Days, months of the living,
Though elite and plush.
Could not filled a void,
That I yearned so much...

Saturday, 15 September 2018

Poetry 2018 Longlist, Udit Bhatia

Wishes

As light as a feather floating in the air,
As stark as a lion lolling in its lair.
As fragile as glass on a fringe,
As stoic as metal attached to a hinge.
Unflappable said some, not to be budged,
Unfulfilled too, but still not smudged.
Never are all realized, never are all gone,
Some are lost in time, some are reborn.
Tender as a curl on a baby’s lips,
Acute as a snake’s venomous hiss.
They are sacred as a bride’s red hue,
And innocent as child’s eye blue.
Dense concentrated emotions galore,
Deluge sometimes, sometimes sore.
Unbridled, bohemian- they are the rainbow,
They sprout beyond the efforts we show.
Unbiased and unabashed, no predilection,
Wishes are the man’s greatest invention.
They are a slander for those who don’t dream,
They are the voice to those who dare to dream.
They require no age, they ask no money,
They can be as serious, as they can be funny.
The moon and the stars add to their flavour,
Wishes are to nurture and savour.
They are the crayons to a barren canvas,
They are marbles in a jar brimless.
They are imperfect, and perfect as it may,
They could be hard as rock or soft as clay.
A wish is a gasp at the mundane life,
A wish is an attempt to wipe a strife.
It could be those lazy afternoon naps,
Or lying nonchalant on your mother’s lap.
As small as a stroll in the morning,
To as magnanimous as curbing global warming.
A wish could be world peace,
Or for a pain to cease.
They are the catalyst for life,
Ray of hope during the times of strife.
A murmured prayer on our lip,
A gushing brook to our ship.
Even if you cannot afford,
Wish at your own accord.
For a wish don’t judge you by your wallet,
Even if it doesn’t arrive, the promise stays in the closet.
The ache of past and the hope for future,
Wishes are the heart’s best tutor.
Some are partial, some are whole,
Wishes help us bare our soul.