Saturday, February 24, 2018

By chance


By chance
come closer
like a lover,
you will receive
a gift
your past, a loser
will leave
worries pass
your heart will beat
your mind dance!

For all this
your will has to move
its stance,
the inertia, it has to give a miss.

Like a lover
for the touch, for the kiss
come closer.

Tuesday, February 20, 2018

On board


I have lost balance
to survive.
I can no longer bank
on my merits.

I am light.

Despite losing
last drop of love,
I put on record
until far-off breath
as far as
finishing bead of blood.

My zeal to be
lays all the feathers
as cards, on the table
keeps me on board.

Beat


Water to water
one road
where it flows, when it breaks
peu importe
mud to mud
one way
why it cracks, how it supports
peu importe

being maneuvers
different steps

heart to heart
one mind
journeys vary

beliefs
pointlessly claim
crossing paths.

Thursday, February 15, 2018

Once upon a time


I live with my memories
broken, bruised, caressed
all mine
once upon a time
even the vain seemed fine.

I have this pain in me now
my lines page
for the sun and the moon
it wonders
what if they'd make love
would other stars approve
or would they war
burn starts to write
a thousand times
same words, same stories
of their making love
in blinking witness…

On my petal
they journey through the mess
of living, loving, leaving
breaking apart,
falling in love and failing
bed-buddies turning guests.

When done
their hearts
replete with tenderness
glowing
released back to another bed
sky
in between them
stands miles of silence.

Recollection of togetherness,
being one
once upon a time
shine
as bygone memories.

Wednesday, February 14, 2018

Unassuming

I have nothing more to write
to you
on the silver page
but some tears for your eyes
perhaps moistening
letters of reluctant words.

I carry your love
in my broken heart
even though I lose
set off for a lone journey
you think I have keeps
a pot of treasure
with me.

I assume the background
dark sky
for the moon to shine
as the written off story.

We offer to each other
a daily reminder.

I cannot write to you
about you.

Tuesday, February 13, 2018

Blank

I am losing all sharpness
to win an argument
good riddance.

Children of my world
playing rape-rape game
shoot-shoot game
right in their schools
like hide and seek of the yore
innocuous, pure
the bigger kids must be
heading somewhere
towards progress
with all of them.

Inside
I am listless
I re-read the lines
of the pied piper.


Note:
The poem is in response to children shooting each other, playing rape games in schools.
Reference: The Pied Piper of Hamelin by Robert Browning

Friday, February 9, 2018

Passage

When you are painting your own verse
do not hold the brush of others
it will distort the image
same colors speak a strange language
canvas will appear distant
bits will mimic
alien speech
not me!
work will screech.

Singing a rehearsed song
can hardly emerge 'you'
with all that is confirmed,
worked, attuned.

You, a stream
falling without wisdom
who it will meet
you, a flower that blooms
without a clue
of time and space
it will please whom
with its color, grace
you, a drop of dew
drowning in the depth of dust
its certain death it can only trust.

Your place may be beneath others
like a blade of forgotten grass
or above the kingdom of clouds
it is you, your text, your own words
dancing in the middle of watching eyes
moving
fall and rise of stars
whispering to you who you are
experiences will surface in time
from the bed of blues breaking into light
expressions
poem of life you write
actions black and white
is all that matters
in what your life offers.


Others might have their ways to recover
through their looks you do not cower
your painting
beyond right or wrong,
path you ceaselessly pass
a river
that cannot take sides
thanks to its banks
immersed in its space
breathing life, its hues
murmur in passing
it's you, it's you.

Wednesday, February 7, 2018

A fare

Destined lines
like flies
sacrifice their lives
word by word
burn in light
death in the leaves
bounces back to life
quasi-true stories
reflect

in eager eyes

Tuesday, February 6, 2018

Critizens

We are hungry animals
in a circus
everyone plays their
restricted role
being out of the vicious cycle
is but a theoretical goal
citizens criticize to entertain
thinking out of the box
is perhaps easy
but while doing, we shrink,
go wild and crazy.

Blame,
be trapped in the losing game
Trick with talk,
on which the being will seldom walk
Do,
be free for good, from the zoo.

Get out of here

What do you do?
I breathe in, breathe out.
What? Without money, how?
I breathe in, breathe out.
No! But what do you do for a living?
I breathe in, breathe out.
You are draining your savings, what'll you do?
I'll breathe in, breathe out.
How do you deal with people?
I breathe in, breathe out.
When they call you names?
I breathe in, breathe out.
But how do you survive?
I breathe in, breathe out.

Get out of here!

Monday, February 5, 2018

Life lies

We have seen eighty-five new summer
spring, autumn, winter.
It could be even more
we lost count of the exact figure.
Suddenly, by liars we are told
we are no longer young, we’re old!

We are unable to speak for ourselves
is that the reason you left us
in one silly corner of the home?
Guests come and go
hear their babble, footsteps
not allowed to participate
with life anymore.
And we get know, there are poorer cousins
woebegone like us,
waiting for their days in morbid old homes?

You are expecting us to die? Why!

We are fragile, not that bold
we depend on you, breathe hazy
sounds of phlegm rest in our chests
forks and spoons we are unable to hold
overgrown bones, we may not walk straight
be as civil and presentable, yet the flame inside
burning just the same.

We had been your child’s best friends
your pets love us for sure
our parents, don’t you remember them
had their say in every matter of the game?
We’d say, ‘older people are darlings of all homes
that make a worked up den a garden’
don’t you recall those bed time stories we shared then?

We won’t lie
however aged we may be
will never be old enough to die,
as long as we’re breathing the same air
don’t push us farther and farther
the blokes are alive, your father and mother
a song we sing as passing birds
include us ahoy
life lies in us seasoned with joy
it can also ease your stressful world.

Sunday, February 4, 2018

Dawning

I am wasting my time
thinking of it
leaves of sallow lines.

I have to wake up
in the words of the song
humming in me for years
what I have gained
what I have lost
my mind is engaged in this.

I need to write a new book
ignored words inked from the rainbow
shelved feelings of blooming flowers
neglected force of streams from the cliffs
a book that is so simple and right
truth alone, all along the ride.

I can sense the dawn
stealing in from the backyard
take me to the unknown.

A tough job ahead
to free me from the false chains
tiring my legs
unknot the phony rope
crowning my head.

Revelation

When the sun fell on my bed I was in love with my dreams.
I knew, like any other day, I would have to stop.
Be under the influence of the alcoholic sun,
would have to forget I was struggling with dark words
showing faces, calling names; they suddenly fainted, vanished
blue horrors became fake, like the y2k,
everything seemed okay, sky didn’t fall, though I imagined
the sun to fall like a shooting star, on this earth, to change things
I got up, ran into the day, met people, walked my brown steps
wrote and talked about meadows and sparrows
ignoring, overlooking many stories of oppression, hatred, deceit
the rays have an effect; until evening, moon rose like a white flower
in the dark, everything’s so clear, I walked into my bed like a somnambulist
dead with words; my insomniac eyes waited for the fresh sun
in the middle of many nights, for the hope-drops, to discover on grasses…
simple, unmasked, eureka of Archimedes; wake up from this waking state,
purely mine, no sunny impact, drowsy eyes,
to read the same stories of treacheries, another unfulfilled journey
sleeping on the other side to be over-written; but now, huh ‘now’
this state of sleepy sleeplessness walking over me; several nights, like waves
waking up, sleeping are being in the blue; sea and ocean;
with the moon, there’s a longing to be gone
see a shooting star, imagine it as the falling sun
all sins of the world, refusing to wake up, will burn.


Selected for the Amaravati Poetic Prism Anthology 2017

Révélation


Quand le soleil est tombé sur mon lit, j'étais amoureux de mes rêves.
Je savais, comme tout autre jour, je devrais m'arrêter.
Soyez sous l'influence du soleil alcoolique,
je devrais oublier que je luttais avec des mots sombres
montrant des visages, appelant des noms; ils ont soudainement évanoui, disparus
les horreurs bleues sont devenues fausses, comme le y2k,
tout semblait correct, le ciel ne tomba pas, bien que j’aie imaginé
le soleil tombe comme une étoile filante, sur cette terre, pour changer les choses
je me suis levé, couru dans la journée, j'ai rencontré des gens, marché mes marrons pas
ai-je écrit, parlé de prés et de moineaux
ignorant, surplombant de nombreuses histoires d'oppression, de haine, de tromperie
les rayons ont un effet; jusqu'au soir, la lune a augmenté comme une fleur blanche
le noir, tout est tellement clair, je me suis trouvé dans mon lit comme un somnambule
mort avec des mots; mes yeux insomniaques ont attendu le soleil frais
au milieu de nombreuses nuits, pour les gouttes d'espoir, à découvrir sur les graminées ...
simple, démasqué, eurêka d'Archimède; je me lèverai de cet état éveillé,
purement le mien, pas d'impact ensoleillé, les yeux somnolents
lisent les mêmes histoires de trahisons, un autre voyage insatisfaisant
dormant de l'autre côté, à repasser, mais maintenant, hein 'maintenant',
cet état d'insomnie endormi marchant sur moi; plusieurs nuits, comme les vagues
ressusciter, dormir, les deux étant dans le bleu; mer, océan;
avec la lune, il y a envie d'être parti
voir une étoile filante, l'imaginer comme le soleil chutant
tous les péchés du monde, refusant de se réveiller, brûleront.


Selected for the Amaravati Poetic Prism Anthology 2017


To listen, click here

কাজের কথা


ইতিহাসে বাঁধাকথা আর কাজ
চিরাচরিত দ্বন্দ্বে আছে  আবদ্ধ সমাজ
সত্যি কথা বলোতাই যতই কথায় বলি
কাজের বেলায় শুনি আমরা  মুখে মিথ্যে বুলি

সৎপথে চলো থাকে কথার কাগজে
কাজের বেলায় অসৎ পথই আসে যে সহযে
যুদ্ধ থামাওশান্তি আনোসারা বিশ্ব বলে
অস্ত্র শস্ত্র কেনাবেচা চুপিচুপি চলে
আয় ফাঁকি দিওনাশুধু নিয়ম কথা বলে
কারচুপি করছে আইনআড়ালে আবডালে
এর ফলে অবিশ্বাস আর হিংসাজালের ফাঁদে
আমাদেরই প্রাণপাখি দুঃখ্যে-কষ্টে  কাঁদে

ভাল শিক্ষা পেয়েও আমরা যুগযুগ ধরে
নিঃশব্দে কথার খেলাপ করছি একই ভাবে
আজকের শিশুরাও তাই একই পড়া পড়ে
পড়বে তারা আটকা বূঝি একই জালের প্রভাবে
কথা-কাজের যুদ্ধ থেকে বিশ্ব মুক্তি চায়
শিক্ষা যদি এই দুজনের ভাব করিয়ে দেয়
শান্তি আসে মুক্তি আসে স্বস্তি  সম্মান
কথা-কাজের মিলনপথের করলে সন্ধান

Selected for the Amaravati Poetic Prism 2017