SETTING SHADOWS

 

                  

                                                             SETTING SHADOWS

                                                   (The Funny Side Of An Elderly Couple)   

          

1)                 Each enclosed in each one’s own space, we dwell

              Like bats hanging head down from banyan tree

              Each in one corner imprisoned, not so free;

              Stuck in our narrow worlds like frogs in a well

              Old age kept us within her narrow bounds

              We stay together-- apart without sounds;

 

2)                  Her eyes like prying baits do keenly try

               To catch my lapses with an eagle-eye;

               One misstep of mine, they quickly spy

               And pull me down like a bolt from the sky;

               I take my turn too trying to blame

               In her every task, a mind-boggling game.

 

3)                  In my every task she finds some defect

               My hobbies she treats as wasteful pastime

               Looks me down as if I did a serious crime.

               My improper training and gross neglect;             

               She beats me far behind with her culinary skills

               My cooking trials and household work almost nil. 

 

4)                   No job to do except confined to home

               Except to read some news and sip a cup of tea

               A sailor forlorn in God-forsaken Sea

               None to chat with or together roam

               Encaged in silence and time-killing ways

               No fast-paced change but passing idle days.          

 

5)                  My constant presence, an irritating eye-sore

               Sitting like a statue in stagnant state

               All have vanished--my colleagues and my mates;

               My memories lie dusty as in a lumber-store.

               My pitfalls like dead shadows pass

               As if treading on broken bits of glass.

 

6)                 Once we complained about our work too hard

              Doing same thing year after year

              Longing for leisure with full rest and cheer

              Too much spare time now-- how to spend, my God!

              Is there no other way except to curse and cross?

              Is this the way our time to pass? 

 

7)                 As elders we do think too proud of our age

             Our age matures but still our egos bind

              In present knowledge-world we lag behind;

              A hiatus wide leaves us in modern maze;

              Let us move with times; no rigid views; no use;

              Nothing happens on past glories to muse.

 

8)                  Though different seem our views and ways

               Tethered together how can we be apart?

               Restrained we have to adjust like wheels of a cart;

               Time guides us to keep up with even pace;

               Our petty rivalries where will they lead?

                Is it true aversion or overpowering creed?

 

9)                   Whatever they be, our days turn fast

                Our squabbles end in lovely compromise

                Our faults melt like mists at sunrise;

                Our hidden springs of love hold us together fast

                Our ways differ you say, too late to mend

                Something binds us close till our final end.

10)                      Our fault-finding ways lead us no where

               They lead us astray with vindictive rage

               None fault-free, come out of your cage;

               My lapses as mountains to you may seem

               My weak virtues as straws in your esteem;

               Our nagging skills keep us ever apart

               Let us be sympathetic with noble thoughts.       

                          *************************

                 16th July, 2021                 Somaseshu Gutala

    

Note : A funny sketch of an elderly couple with no 

           intention to hurt anyone.         

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

                                             

Guide me, Oh Lord!

                                                       

                                       

                                  

The road seems so uncertain with bends unseen

So many shocks and surprises, which way to turn?

So many doubts and questions within me burn

I can’t unravel or grasp what they mean;

On this strange path never have I been;

My mind felt wrinkled with deepest concern;

Guide me, oh Lord! Which way to twist and turn

Vexed with daily routine I lose my mind serene;

Thy help and strong support all I implore;

Unaware of Thy gifts we ask for more;

We deem not as choosers but beggars poor

Our earthly tensions and doubts who can cure?

Our desires like witches drive us into the mire

Only Thy grace can lift us from this dark despair.

                    ****************

        1st July, 2021                         Somaseshu Gutala

  

THE TALE OF SOPHIA, THE STRONG

 

                             

                                ( I )

 

      A stalwart figure tall with manly gait

     With frizzled, brown hair hanging down

     A marching figure with perpetual frown;

     Her dominant looks stern and straight

     Her broad visage not red like diamond mine

     But threatening like burning coal doth shine;

     Though she speaks little, her looks are keen

     She grasps patient’s feelings and pain unseen.

                                    ( I I )

    Her name struck fear in patients’ hearts

    Her words touched them like winged darts;

   And yet her nursing skills impressed a lot

    Though she looked grim, too well she played her part.

    Too punctual is she and hoped the same from others

    In spotless white, she moved with smart, quick pace

   She curbed patients too, in disciplined ways;

   She treated well poor ailing kids and mothers; 

                               ( I I I )

   Her name, Sophia, a wise but stern nature she had.

   When patients cribbed about not getting sleep

   Her thunderous shouts drove them to slumber deep

   She never showed her feelings to make them glad

   If anyone from her any help did seek

   Her looks enough, made them mute and meek;

   She did not like to make patients feel weak

   She never let them chat and loudly speak.

                               ( I V )

   She snubbed them a lot in a bantering style

  “You drink yourself to reach the gates of hell

   Stop writhing in pain”, she used to yell.

   ‘Your lecherous ways spoiled you, creature vile!

   To struggle with filthy diseases dire;

   You cry now wriggling like worms in fire”

   She made them see their sins, she spoke harsh and hard

   And yet she treated all with care in her ward. 

                                      ( V )

   Though Sophia struck terror in patients’ eyes

   And galled them with her stern looks spouting fire

   A noble intention lurks behind her ire;

   She chastened their minds with warnings wise;

   No drunkard dared to look at her again

   No womanizer dared to face her disdain;

   Sophia, loved them all despite her dare-devil face

   A dutiful nurse who saved them from wretched ways.

                         *****************

          19th June, 2021                      Somaseshu Gutala

Note : Many of us may have the experience of meeting serious and sombre medical staff who do not like to entertain us with talk. Yet we are impressed by their sincere and dedicated services, their correct prescription and proper diagnosis. We always remember their valuable advice and their help in our lives.  

                             *****************************

  

  

   

 

   

 

  

    

NOTHING LASTS LONG

 

 

                   

                     

 

                    

1)Thou, Curse of man’s crooked and cunning mind!

   Thou, man’s cruel intelligence unkind!

   Thou, a tiny group of proteins that multiplies

   Thou, devourer of cells growing in monstrous size

   Thou, dreadful deathless power not yielding to lotions

   No antidote, not yielding to magic potions

   Varying thy structure in manifold ways

   Spreading throughout the world for so many days.

 

2)      Why hast thou turned so hard and dealt with our fate?

   Why hast thou plunged us in such pitiable state?

   Why hast thou orphaned kids and left their parents dead?

   Why hast thou deprived so many winners of bread?

   Why hast thou left so many mothers shocked with grief?

   Why hast thou left mothers with kids with no relief?

   Why hast thou left so many jobless and starve on streets?

   Why hast thou let them die like plants in desert heat?

 

3)       And yet you made us human to help others in need

   To give whatever we have reducing our greed;

   So many through health camps give support free;

   To bring some warmth and fill their hearts with glee;    

   So many came to rescue to bring comfort and peace;

   So many funerals they did, the noblest service; 

   So many helped in charity in cash and kind

   You, too, stop your destructive deeds of this kind.

 

4)       Some, like thee, turned so inhuman and hard   

   Forgetting their morals, duties they discard

   Like leeches at once they suck as best as they could

   From dying patients their source like blood

   They still retain the dead till their families fill

   All bloated payments and greedy bills;

   Even funerals, charges shot up with rocket-speed

   Humanity is dead: patients suffer for people’s greed.

 

5)     You brought so many changes in our daily needs

   Never our bullish egos so far made to yield

   Never stayed indoors and works we finish

   Never have we tasted home-made meals with relish

   Never have we leisure at home to spend

   Never have we time to others our ears to lend;

   Never have we time good books to read

   And nourish our ideals and lessen our greed.

 

6)      You made us see the risks of knowledge going astray

  Diseased minds with greedy designs do play

  In destructive, diabolic, harmful ways;

  Look, how for one’s error the whole world has to pay

  A heavy toll of life with irrecoverable loss

  How perverted minds transgress Nature’s laws?

  Causing so much misery to whole world enmasse

  Our hopes all lost, how can we this disaster bypass?

 

7)      You taught us the true value of labor hard

  Though crores of people lost their jobs, oh Lord!

  Their flooding tears and sighs beyond our bounds

  Whose hearts won’t melt on hearing their wailing sounds?

  You taught us the true value of money and goods

  You taught us the true value of family and food;

  You taught us to survive with leisurely pace

  You taught us to look for alternative ways.

 

8)    You have shattered the future dreams of youth and thrown

  Their chances of winning plum posts in firms well-known;

  You made jobless people to their villages retire

  And work in fields to forget their stress and despair;

  You made us go for new digital ways

  To buy and sell our ware with no delays;

  You made our wards to learn at home online

  Though they miss their teachers’ dealings offline.

 

9)      Even stray dogs and beasts suffered a lot

   In deserted streets due to Covid onslaught;

   None fed those poor creatures and none did care;

   As they roamed looking for remnants everywhere;

  The beggars and vagrants in a pitiable state

  Seek food shelters bemoaning their cruel fate;

  You threw our lives broken and out of gear

  Even hospitals overcrowded, no bed to spare.

10)  Vaccines, the last refuge to save mankind;

  You made us suffer a lot, Thou, Virus blind!

  Our clumsy, lavish ways to hurt Nature kind

  Taught us to blend wisdom with care in our minds;

  To escape thy cruel grip and adjust

  Wearing face-masks and keep distance, a must;

  To lead a simple life, follow all rules and mend

  Ourselves; nothing lasts long; we hope to see thy end.

                    **********************

   10th June, 2021                           Somaseshu Gutala

 

 

         

 

    

     

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                              

 

 

THIS IS (NOT) THE TIME

 

    

                             

     

     1)    This is not the time to quarrel and fight

            This is not the time to rely on brutal might;

            This is not the time to go for a ride

            This is not the time to show egoistic pride;

            This is not the time to go to temples great

            This is not the time to enjoy with your mates;

            This is the time to help others in need

            This is the time to check your selfish greed.

 

  2)     This is not the time to waste your wealth  

           This is not the time to ignore your health

           This is not the time to visit movie halls

           This is not the time to rush to the malls;

           This is not the time to visit crowded spots

           This is not the time to go to clubs and booze a lot;

           This is the time to show our deep concern

           As corpses lie in line waiting to burn.

 

  3)     This is not the time to go to functions grand

           This is not the time with friends to shake hands;

           This is not the time to go and freely play

           In crowded beaches or in clubs to stay;

           This is not the time to lose our hearts and grieve

           This is not the time our hopes and efforts to leave;

           This is the time to be together and fight

          This is the time to use our knowledge bright. 

        

4)        This is not the time to flout precautions and rules

           This is not the time to rush to doom like fools;

           This is not the time without a mask to go

           This is not the time to make a colourful show;

           This is not the time to move freely as you like

           This is not the time to shout wildly on a bike;

           This is the time to sanitize everything

           This is the time to wash whatever you bring. 

 

5)        This is not the time to take anything with ease

           This is not the time to welcome dire disease;

           This is not the time to mix and merrily greet

           This is not the time to chat with friends and meet;

           This is not the time to neglect sacrifices made

           This is not the time to let their glories fade;

           This is the time to honour noble hearts

          To honour those who against Covid fought.

 

6)     This is not the time to sit idle and sad

        This is not the time to get depressed and mad;

        This is not the time to indulge in habits bad

        This is not the time to speak harsh and hard; 

        This is not the time to escape your work

        This is not the time your duties to shirk;

        This is the time to wash your hands clean

        This is the time to be cool and serene. 

 

7)    This is not the time to rob those lying dead

       This is not the time to deprive people of their bread;

       This is not the time to grab exorbitant fee

       From patients struggling for breath, can’t you see?

       This is not the time to squeeze patients for gains

       This is not the time to aggravate their pains;

       This is the time to keep our surroundings neat

       This is the time our plants and beasts to kindly treat.

 

8)   This is the time to help the people poor

      This is the time to keep them safe and secure;

      This is the time for some relief to find

      In useful works nourishing your mind;

      This is the time to live with care at home

      This is the time to stay safe and not recklessly roam.

      This is the time to procure vaccine’s shield

      This is the time to wear masks and not to yield.  

                      *******************

           25th May, 2021                        Somaseshu Gutala

     

             

                                                               

 

 

  

   

 

  

   

    

      

 

  

           

 

 

A Note on Robert Frost’s Poem “BLUEBERRIES”

 

Children picking berries

                            

Clusters of blueberries

                      

                           

Robert Lee Frost (1874-1963)

This poem was written by Frost in 1912 and published in “North of Boston” in 1914. Robert Frost describes the interaction between two persons who passed by a pasture owned by Mortenson. They were surprised to see blueberry bushes with a luxuriant growth of ripe blue berries “as big as the end of your thumb”, “real sky-blue and heavy” which make a drumming sound when they are collected in a pail. “And presto they’re up all around you” convey the speed and dense growth of the blueberry bushes. The second speaker enquired where he had seen the bushes. The first speaker describes how the whole woods there were cut off two years ago and the whole area was burnt down by fire. The second speaker spoke about the magical growth of blueberries where no shady pines or a blade of grass was not left to grow on the burnt land. The first speaker speculates that the blueberries might have grown drawing nourishment from the soot or charcoal of the burnt pasture. He felt the taste of soot in them and also attributes their ebony colour to the burnt soot of the burnt pasture. The blue film seen on them is like thin mist or tanned colour of fruit-gatherers and it goes away by the mere touch of a hand.

 The second speaker then refers to Mortenson who owns that pasture. The owner of that place does not seem to care about these berries and feigns that he has no knowledge about the growth of blueberries in his land just to hide this fact from others. The second speaker asks whether he has seen Loren and his large family. The first speaker replies that Loren’s shrewd countenance seems to say that he had left a patch of land with many berries as if by mistake “to ripen too long” which may be taken away by other intruders. The second speaker remarks that Loren is a very thrifty person. The first speaker replies that he has to be thrifty as he has to feed so many children mainly on berries throughout the year. “He has brought them all up on wild berries, they say like birds.” They also store many berries and sell them at the shop to buy their necessities. Frost portrays here the hardships faced by poor farmers in his area.

The second speaker remarks “It’s a nice way to live/Just taking what Nature is willing to give” without exploiting her resources with plough and harrow. Frost hints at the exploitation  of Nature by  man  who destroys natural surroundings to satisfy his overambitious greed.

 The first speaker comments on the subtle behaviour of Loren’s children. They seem to be unconcerned and solemn though they knew about every place where the berries grew on hills and marshy ground.  The first speaker describes the pretentious and greedy nature of Morton by describing his meeting with him. Once he went to meet Loren and asked him to tell if any fruit was there for picking. Loren in a polite way answered that there were no berries found and cunningly enquired his wife whether any berries were seen for plucking.

 The first speaker continues that Loren thinks that “all the fruit that grows wild is for him.” Now they can avail the chance of picking berries which escaped the notice of greedy Loren. They would pick berries the next morning when the sun shines warm on the wet vines. The first speaker recollects the past memories of picking berries in stealth like mischievous goblins hiding in the underground. They used to go round picking berries. When one thought that he missed his friend, he heard his friend saying that they had stood near the bird’s nest and hence the bird was seen flying around them as if in a complaining tone.  While picking berries when his friend went far away, he used to shout thinking that his friend had lost his way. But actually his friend was seen standing quite nearby. Then both of them reflected that they would miss happy moments of picking berries if Loren’s children found out that place. They might come tomorrow or even tonight. Loren's children look at others as if others have no right to come there and pick berries. But the speakers think that after looking at such ripe berries covered with shining leaves glistening like two kinds of jewels, none would complain. Anyone would be tempted to pick those berries. “The fruit mixed with water in layers of leaves/Like two kinds of jewels, a vision for thieves.” 

Thus, the speakers recollect their happy experience and also on the urgency of enjoying picking blueberries again, a rich tempting treasure to all, especially to Loren’s children who survive on wild berries. In this poem Frost describes not only the beautiful view of blueberries but also the condition of poor people like Loren who are forced to be selfish and pretentious in order to survive. The poet also contrasts Nature’s kind and liberal spirit with man’s selfish and greedy attitude who wants to rob nature using his brute force and power. Frost captures the regional idiom and conversational style of New England region set to loose, flowing verse. In this dramatic lyric the poet uses a rhyming couplet structure with irregular length of stanzas; the use of quotation marks and use of first person suggest the sense of two people chatting. This dramatic lyric also re-creates the pleasures of picking wild fruit listening to birdsong in fine weather. This poem also show's Frost's creative skills, verbal facility, his sense of keen observation and description of  minute details of Nature in a sensuous manner as well as dramatic expressions of characters also. According to Michael Dana Gioia, an American poet and critic,"  Frost’s dramatic narratives are more concise, realistic, understated, and dialectical than any available model. Their combination of minimalist narration and direct dialogue with authorial neutrality is something tangibly new in narrative."

 Frost in early 1900's supported his family on a small farm in New Hampshire growing apples and raising poultry. Frost as a naturalist is widely acknowledged. According to his biographer, Jay Parini,  an American critic and writer, "few poets in the English language have been so specific in their knowledge of plants or flowers, or find filled poetry with so much flora and fauna".  Both humanists and scientists are drawn to Frost's poetry for its blend of artistry and accuracy.

                  ******************************************

                                 

            15th May , 2021                                   Somaseshu Gutala             

 
                                                               

 

 

.” A Note on Robert Frost (1874-1963) Part - II

 

                               

                              

                                         

Robert Frost is considered as the national poet of America who expressed the beauty of American landscape, especially of New England region and the lives of villagers along with their problems and attitudes.  According to the American poet, Randall Jarrell, “No other living poet has written so well about the actions of ordinary man.” His style comprises various elements such as lyrics and narratives with characters and background drawn from New England. He chose rural themes and realistically described the lives of humble dwellers in the countryside, their occupations, family relationships, their joys and sorrows against background of Nature. He used a lot of metaphors in his poems. Most of his themes are about Nature and humanity such as : 1) Everyday life 2) Human contact with the natural world 3) Human love 4) Isolation of man 5) Life’s struggles 6) Nature in New England 7) Rural life and occupations 8)Self-realization 9) Simultaneous validity of opposing ideas etc. His works are noted for combining characteristics of both romanticism and modernism.

 He is not a provincial poet as he revealed the universal feeling of people and their struggles and their relationship with Nature. He spent his life as a poultry farmer in New Hampshire. For ten years he worked on his farm at Derry, New Hampshire and taught at Pinkerton Academy. He observed the laborious lives of farmers and the natural surroundings of the countryside. The clash between urban and rural lifestyles and the harsh conflicts seen in the natural world are realistically portrayed in his writings.

He is a classical lyricist influenced by early Romantic poets and contemporary British poets like Edward Thomas, Rupert Brooke and Robert Graves. Frost was often compared to William Wordsworth as both chose to write in the language actually used by men in the country side. But unlike Wordsworth’s mystic and pantheistic approach, Frost used realistic portrayal of Nature and the relationship between Nature and man. His approach is deceptively simple and conceals many layers of meaning. His style is epigrammatic, simple and clear. He uses colloquial diction of New England peasants but which is however purified of all that is vulgar, slangy and coarse. His imagery is drawn from the most common and familiar objects of nature.

 Frost uses symbols and metaphors with subtle layers of meaning. His poems capture the rhythms and cadences and tones of human speech. He is not egotistical like Wordsworth in poetic treatment and maintains artistic detachment but is only subjective in some of the elegies he had written. Like Wordsworth he chose incidents and situations from common life and presented them in a language actually used by the common man. Both used metrical verse and tried to reproduce the conversational and tone and rhythm of the natural speech. In Wordsworth’s view the use of meter enhances the pleasure of poetry. In frost’s view free verse is like playing tennis without a net. As far as technique is concerned Frost’s poems are remarkably flawless. Unlike Wordsworth, he is a conscious artist and revised his poems carefully. The rich texture of his verse conceals many hidden layers of meaning. 

 Richard Wilbur says that Frost did not use colloquial language of an uneducated farmer boy but rather a beautifully refines colloquial idiom set to metrical arrangement. He wrote lyrics, narrative poems, dramatic lyrics and monologues.  Skilful use of metaphors and symbols is one of the elements of his poetic style. Fact and fancy are beautifully mingled in his lyrics. His language is simple but highly suggestive. He used a conversational style with New England speech rhythms and colloquial idiom. His use of broken and loose syntax with parentheses, ellipses, unfinished sentences with abrupt openings and repetitions make him a modern poet of American countryside. Though he wrote on regional themes, he is quintessentially “a modern poet in his adherence to language as it is actually spoken, in the psychological complexity of his portraits and in the degree to which his work is infused with layers of ambiguity and irony.” His style could be described as conversational, realistic, rural(pastoral) and introspective. Ezra Pound wrote a review on Frost’s poem “A Boy’s Will” and said “, Frost has the good sense to speak naturally and to paint the thing, the thing as he sees it.” Amy Lowell reviewed “North of Boston” in the “New republic” and praised Frost’s original approach, unusual power and sincerity.

Simplicity, profundity, lucidity and subtlety are the hallmarks of his poetry. Frost’s best poetry is concerned with the drama of man Nature. Frost believes that man should live in harmony with Nature and not against Nature and natural process. The aphoristic lines in his poetry give to them a didactic quality. Louis Untermeyer says that Frost’s poetry is “a poetry which finds a response on every level which begins in delight and ends in wisdom.” Though his poems seem simple they are subtle and intricate with a rich texture and there we find layers within layers of meaning. He is a great experimentalist with various stanzaic forms. He has experimented with odes, satires, dramatic monologues and dialogues. He has employed ballad meter, Terza Rima, sonnets, couplets and blank verse.  He seems to have a special liking for the use of the quatrain form with simple rhymes like abab and abcb.  Edwin Arlington Robinson, another new England poet, was also noted for technical experimentation and used traditional verse forms like sonnet, ballad and blank verse and won three Pulitzer prizes.

 Robert Frost won Pulitzer prize four times in his life : for New Hampshire(1923), “Collected Poems(1930), “A further Range(1936) and “A witness Tree(1942. He published his first collection of poems “A Boy’s Will” in 1913. His collected poems “North of Boston” (1914) contains many of his popular poems like “Mending Wall”, “Death of the Hired man”, “Home Burial”, “Blueberries” and “Apple Picking”. His famous poem “Stopping By woods on a snowy evening” is from his collection “New Hampshire” (1923). Another famous poem “Birches” is seen in his third collection “Mountain Interval” published in 1916.

Robert Frost was regarded as America’s greatest literary figure and won much recognition and reputation during his lifetime. He was awarded the Congressional Gold Medal in 1960 for his poetic contribution. On July 22,1961 he was named the Poet laureate of Vermont. He was the Poetry Consultant to the Library of Congress (1958-1959). He recited his poem “Gift Outright” at the inauguration of President John F. Kennedy in 1961. He served as Poet in Residence at Middlebury College, Harvard University (1939-1943); at Dartmouth College (1943-1949), at Amherst College, the University of Michigan (1949-1963), at Columbia University and at Yale University. Frost was the Founder of the Bread Loaf School and Conference of English at Middlebury College. John F. Kennedy complimented Robert frost that he “brought an unsparing instinct for reality to bear on the platitudes and pieties of society” and that “he laid out a vision for an America as much respected for its civilization as for its strength.”

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      6th May, 2021                                                  Somaseshu Gutala