Sentinel Poetry (Online) #58 ISSN 1479-425X


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Ashok Niyogi


Now, Let Me See


bequeath me

your latest pair of spectacles


because I saw your trees

walk about without eyes

in a forest of wind

I heard you whisper platitudes

into a night of impotent passion

I felt age beginning to tug

at the coldness of your unlit pipe


we could have climbed

our hill more often

even then

when I was small


I understood

the sadness

of your success


I always had your measure

by the thickness

of your spectacle frames


Here and There


what after all is age

for us from the golden age

in these amorphous times

when knotted is the fulcrum

on which the polecat rests

which metro-sexual ladybirds

climb to lay their atomic eggs


let large butterflies hatch

from my steel-grey moustache

and snow on hoary mountains

shatter with a lot of nonsense


let rivers climb

into the coffins of clouds

and love erupt

from volcanoes in tourist resorts


let touts

take us through life by the hand

let wizards in disposable nappies

wave their magic wands


Mantra with a Question Mark


the earth the sky

and Mother Teresa

Jack the Ripper

virtual and real worlds

and all else in between

is lit up with your immanence

even as all suns are

triggered by your will

you play


as you create

even while you meditate

you are the lord and protector

of all that is manifest

yet or never to be manifested

all dissolves into you

the end-game


in that you

I seek refuge

even as I ride

to the crest of a wave

and zigzag down

through laughing sharks

that are also bald vultures

it hurts and blood flows

even as I laugh


I will re-enter your womb


right now I suckle at your chest

what then is eternal

how do you define rest

where does your falcon nest



Once More


there are warts and pimples

where the sculptor

did not evenly spread his clay

I see even blackheads

because you were put out in the open

before the final coat of paint

lots of sags and wrinkles

this sporadic August sun has

given you with its uneven bake


I would have recommended

Oil of Olay

had you even been aliveÖ.


Ö.no wonder this life

that you have prescribed

is so mortally flawed


by promises

made me

and then not kept

I could have wept


now cosmetics will not do

letís erase

from foundation

from base

letís remake







as the doppelganger leads

oceans will part

to reveal garden chairs

on desert land

forests will be ploughed

into young green paddy fields

rivers will run horse races

at premeditated speeds

mountains will be whittled away

into assorted prayer beads


some social drinking

a little amiable party dance

while planning clandestine romance


on a conducted tour to France




of ash wood was his lance

the fool was felled

in a joust with chance

on the straight and narrow


these are furrows

made by a wheelbarrow

through teeming ant-hills

and carcasses of skunk


his doppelganger strides true

but who will drive you drunk

through the twists and turns

on the road uphill




Ashok Niyogi




Previous articles

Poems by Elizabeth K. Switaj

Poems by Meghan Casey

Poems by Jumoke Verissimo

Poems by Munayem Mayenin

The Warrior-Poet

The Poetry in the Pity



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