free verse. missing Poetry

Away From The Usual

A little while from now

 I would not hear  in all

 the quarrels of my maids

 the blames   with a spitefulness

 the shouts of my cook for nothing

his stealthy withdrawals  seen and unseen

 the worldly advice of my driver to all around

preaches he with a force never practises

 the  divine communique of my watchman

 who links every event to the Lord

 says he that God made them all

 the screech of the vehicles

 plying up and down  the road

 know not where they go

and for what they go

turning next door, I hear

 the blindfold recitation of children

 with the teachers  at the top of their voice

teach alphabets  in a tone monotonous

while numbers one, two and three etc

come in a sequential flow

the hawkers cry calling out

 banana, banana, orange oranges

 till their voice turns hoarse

 going to go away from this place  of sound

 away from the hustle and bustle

 far away for a fortnight on to the wilderness

have to go without the usual  used surround

 I am going to miss them all obviously

 a yearning almost for a time from now

 Oh! am I going to miss you for long?



The Burn And Turn

With the movement of cyclical turn
the debris getting exhumed in a burn
while the cinders lay in a diffusible churn
the whole area seemed messy and  abandoned
with the feeling of the environment getting
holding the hands tight-fisted against such disaster
could not keep the lips wildernesstight-lipped any more  in anger
got ahead with the protests to the town council  straight
who promised to look into it with a heavy   punishment right
kept not their words  but joined hands with the harm through
resting the town in more destruction and hazard  being true
while I stood helpless and all alone in the wilderness static
without any one to support and help me to cross over the drastic.