Two Poems by Prithvijeet Sinha

 

PARADISE

 

Paradise,

what do we

redeem and reclaim

from the ashes of time?

 

We can make

Medusa less of a tragic brute,

let the gusts blow away

her dishevelled locks

and give her a crown of

maple leaves.

We can reclaim her name

as a commonplace one

and let her stew in anger

and indignation from the

injustice of her unique station

but allow her

to take her time.

 

Time is History.

History is Time.

 

 

Paradise,

what is a man's best friend

when the clothes of gravelly ego

are taken off?

It's his capacity to

give you more than crumbs

to feed on,

the humility

to renounce

the misnomer of 'man'

while crossing

the forest reaching up

to heavens

with its redwood trees.

 

O, Paradise,

what is the purpose

of looking at that tall,

tall red monolith,

bastion of capital,

still a colossus

and yet without

access to public glares.

How will the world

look from above there

when we make our transits

and our astral projections

to the top of our world?

There will be new horizons

on that plane.

Our faces will be without

scrutiny,

vanity

and misguided energies

will be left at the base.

 

 

Of course,

you, Paradise,

will remain fabulous

your innocence

transmitted to dimensions

beyond......

 

You will be an agender muse,

the last galactic sojourner.

 

Up here,

up here,

we trounce the archetypes

of being in the valley of clouds.

Up here,

our bodies

float on the softest seas

of enthusiasm

and with a committee

of atypical personalities.

Where Medusa is once again

realigned as a

powerhouse of wit and candour

and man's best friends

all gather together without

halos of moving mountains

and roiling seas,

around their now austere heads.

 

Paradise,

we are here,

the world seen from every possible angle.

We are in this together.

 

Let's beam this light

like clairvoyants

below,

till it reaches our hearths.

 

Let us redeem ourselves.

 

BEJEWELLED

 

The bejewelled moon

is a crescent,

a seemly crown

but also a half-cut diamond

worn as a pendant.

I have worn it,

swung it around my fingers

and felt the laws of astronomy

yawn

and transmute to poetry.

 

Rings of Saturn,

they fail my grasp.

The sheer speed of millennia

up there with the mysteries

of big eyes

on an odyssey of

craven communications.

But I roll them around,

fete them with a hop

and two-step puddle jump

in and around.

 

You see,

the red planet, too,

is a new kind of enigma.

He runs from too much

coverage

and is destiny's child, still.

I pick up its grains

to make spices out of them,

garnishing crimson dreams.

 

 

The children of this universe

have bought a ticket to

reach the port of call,

into the future.

But

picture book colours

and good old tales of

fantastical reason

are their saving graces.

 

The bejewelled moon

Rings of Saturn

Red Planet

all supplements

to their wonder years.

Prithvijeet Sinha from Lucknow, India - is a post graduate in MPhil from the University of Lucknow, having launched his prolific writing career by self publishing on the worldwide community Wattpad since 2015 and on his WordPress blog An Awadh Boy's Panorama(https://anawadhboyspanorama.wordpress.com/)  

Besides that, his works have been published in several varied publications as Hudson Valley Writers Guild, Piker Press Online, anthology Pixie Dust and All Things Magical published by Authors Press( January, 2022), Cafe Dissensus, The Medley, Screen Queens, Confluence- South Asian Perspectives, Reader's Digest, Borderless Journal, Lothlorien Poetry, Live Wire, Rhetorica Quarterly, Ekphrastic Review, The Kolkata Arts, Dreich Magazine, Visual Verse and in the children's anthology Nursery Rhymes and Children's Poems From Around The World ( AuthorsPress, February 2021), among others. 

His life force resides in writing.