Didnt I tell you

didn’t I tell you
there would be a night
a sea
drifting to a far edge
of memory sand
and there would
still be darkness
in random corners
of our woven talk
we shall then merge
in numerous skins
on numerous streets
eyes hawking a breaking storm
when a colored moon suddenly
opens a sky to just another sea.

Poem and Watercolor by Amitabh Mitra

When the sun broke in Mdantsane

a sun broke into many pieces
over cecilia makiwane hospital
that day
we all went out collecting pieces
patients held out their palms
colors camouflaged hopes and infections
yonela too smiled
somebody laughed out
aloud
in
mdantsane
again.

Poem amd Watercolor by Amitabh Mitra

Gary lives in Mdantsane, Poems of Mdantsane

gary laughed out aloud
there is a white man
in his cage
it must be raining down there in Newcastle UK
and the school teacher left his umbrella behind
ha! ha! ha! ho! ho! ho! ho!
rain trickled down his mind
in cold stillness
among his inflamed sulcis and gyris
till a river struck him
his eyes dilated at the strangeness of things
the knobbly tree of all things reaching for him...
today I wondered
even in his disjointed form
he happily gazes at consummation of mortal
beings.

Poem and Drawing by Amitabh Mitra

Nights at Cecilia Makiwane Hospital, Mdantsane

and the child gasped
a caged wind screamed
noiseless of a last night whimper
trees swaying outside
in restless tribulation
refused
I asked a late night
for an answer
yet a black sky
revolted.

Graphite pencil and ink drawing by Amitabh Mitra

Another day

an evening stained
with a hurtle of
unassuming talk
louder
louder
they diminish somewhere
close by
tomorrow would be
just another belief
of another
day.

Poem and Pastel Drawing by Amitabh Mitra

Noorganj

noorganj stayed in shadows
as a river broke the walls of the fort
climbed up
a strange smell of sweltering summer
and elderly women
on a wrinkled soil
stayed still
'badruddin gujar gayey
kab key
aur ayesha
chup ho gayi hai'
chortled the river
I could only see her eyes behind
the burkha
hens rushed out
spraying colors to
a dead laughter.

Poem and Drawing by Amitabh Mitra
'Badaruddin had passed away long back and Ayesha doesnt talk any more'