Jayanta Mahapatra poems

Jayanta Mahapatra(22 October 1928 - / Cuttack / India)
Page 1Go

Her Hand

- by Jayanta Mahapatra 11

The little girl's hand is made of darkness
How will I hold it?

The streetlamps hang like decapitated heads
Blood opens that terrible door between us

The wide mouth of the country is clamped in pain
while its body writhes on its bed of nails

This little girl has just her raped body
for me to reach her

The weight of my guilt is unable
to overcome my resistance to hug her

Hunger

- by Jayanta Mahapatra 10

It was hard to believe the flesh was heavy on my back.
The fisherman said: Will you have her, carelessly,
trailing his nets and his nerves, as though his words
sanctified the purpose with which he faced himself.
I saw his white bone thrash his eyes.

I followed him across the sprawling sands,
my mind thumping in the flesh's sling.
Hope lay perhaps in burning the house I lived in.
Silence gripped my sleeves; his body clawed at the froth
his old nets had only dragged up from the seas.

In the flickering dark his lean-to opened like a wound.
The wind was I, and the days and nights before.
Palm fronds scratched my skin. Inside the shack
an oil lamp splayed the hours bunched to those walls.
Over and over the sticky soot crossed the space of my mind.

I heard him say: My daughter, she's just turned fifteen...
Feel her. I'll be back soon, your bus leaves at nine.
The sky fell on me, and a father's exhausted wile.
Long and lean, her years were cold as rubber.
She opened her wormy legs wide. I felt the hunger there,
the other one, the fish slithering, turning inside

Page description:

Poems by Jayanta Mahapatra, Jayanta Mahapatra's poems collection. Jayanta Mahapatra is a classical and famous poet (22 October 1928 - / Cuttack / India). Share all poems of Jayanta Mahapatra.

© Poems are the property of their respective owners, reproduced here for educational and informational purposes, and is provided at no charge.