“FOREIGN LAND”

It seems that the sourness of the season

Will fade out some day,

And the curtains will swing

Little apart to let the light come inside.

Tired sunlight will rest on my bed

Like a tired housewife

And the sky won’t look like

A big piece of tarpaulin.

Doubt on wind

Will vanish

And the water will retain its taste.

The box of medicines will be locked

And appetite will forget digestive pills.

All these change will happen

Like forgotten faces who come in mind

In troublesome phase.

It’s so pleasant to think

That memories will be covered

With the dust of happiness.

Sleep will start adoring

Full up to chest.

And recurring nightmares will sleep deep

Never to appear again.

What else is needed?

When there will greeneries in my backyard

Long up to my knee

And some day

I will start liking my exile

To this foreign land.

“WHO IS SHE?”

Who is she?

Always leaving…

Trembling wrinkles of fingers

On my image.

Who digs some rows…

On dusty barren

And sows the seeds of wishes.

Inside and deep!

Who is she?

Always growing…

Throbs on the wall,

Any my tired image

Starts Throbbing.

What complaint?

She tells to the

Rectangular panchayat of soil

Sitting behind the frame.

Who is she?

Always splashing my thoughts,

Whom, neither I could burn

Nor I could offer to river.

“DEFEAT”

No one could take away

My right to Love

And the strength

Originated from that

                         ……. Love!

God reflected his beauty

From her body

From her presence,

Constrained with

                           …….boundaries!

I could see his defeat who was

Standing like a guilty

Near the fence,

And head down….

                             …….Limitation!

Where my soul hovers

With the Love that always wins,

Which I created.

And with the body that always loses,

                        ……..Which he created!

“DISCOURSE”

Your eyes are beautiful!

I said…

It’s illusion of your eyes!

She said…

Your hairs are cloudy black!

I said…

There is darkness in your mind!

She Said…

You are the center of my imagination!

I said…

I am out of periphery!

She said…

You are the factorization of my emotional being!

I said…

You have forgotten mathematics!

She said…

I am in Love with you!

 I said…

Then I will say it importunateness!

She said…

Don’t you Love me!

I almost clamored and eyes were wet.

And for my Love she became dumb forever. 

“ASSURANCE”

Why to repose that bird

Settling in her nest,

Made inside the airy ventilator.

The sky itself is so uncertain perhaps!

Water! Earth! Fire! Wind and Space!

We made them god.

When some believes got broken and shattered,

While our meadows and paddy-land got washed away.

Fire torched the green woods

And mountains got abraded by mighty winds.

There was no God ever!

And even if he was

Has no plenty of time

To make us write prayers

And religious books.

Still we have

Piles of religious books

Stumbling upon one another

And Gods related to them in our fear.

A poet needs assurance

And we all

And the bird as well.

That single blade of yellow grass

Also wants some assurance

Which has fallen into my pen-stand

From its trembling beak.

This entire world has same grievance

That why to be reliant on that blade of grass

Which swims few meters out of reach

While we are drowning.

But still the world

Needs some assurance.

Love wants assurance,

Hatred wants assurance,

The light needs assurance

That it must be dark

Before it crawls.

Death wants assurance

That life should not return to the corpse.

Even my pen-stand wants an assurance

That there should be only pens in it

And no blades of dried, yellow grass.

Give me an assurance,

I ask to my poem.

Give me the assurance of beautiful words

It says with a smile.

             

             *******

“If My Heart Is A Radio”

If my heart is a radio 
I’ll catch you every morning, through the wave. 
Pulling up my mind to the raindrops 
I’ll sing you as a song through the wave. 
Its new time of taking up the tuning my heart 
It’s a new dimension of the purest trust. 
That my heart is radio and you are a song!

If my heart is a radio 
I’ll catch you every morning through the wave. 
The Sun and the Moon will pass through the globe 
and I will walk in the woods away from noise, 
The joy of talking with the dense forest 
I‘ll be living through a tranquil poise. 

If my heart is a radio 
I’ll catch you every morning through the wave, 
Pulling up my mind to the world of stars 
I’ll sing you as a song through the wave. 
Its new time of taking up the tuning my heart 
It’s a new dimension of the purest trust, 
That my heart is radio and you are a song!

             ******* 

“HUG FOR SALE”

Who, belongs to me 
I swear that shadow 
I’ve kept my hug 
for a humble sale. 

I’ve kept my hug 
for a humble sale. 
Agony! Pain! Mistrust! Disdain!
Fear in eyes, tears insane 
Lonely! Cloudy! With echoes, refrain. 
They come to me 
wet and heavy, 
tall but bowed in trembling pain! 
I’ve kept my hug 
for a humble sale.

Choir of halo 
away from moon, 
crisp and cold 
like a prune 
drug in veins 
though flowing fast 
made them going a dancing doom, 
They come to me 
dark and down, 
moaning as if fuming gel! 
I’ve kept my hug 
for a humble sale 

Who, belongs to me 
I swear that shadow 
I’ve kept my hug 
for a humble sale.

              *******

“ANONYMOUS”

Those streets were calm and adorable
Who had no name
The just born was so heavenly
Before he was baptized.

Morning dew had crazy diamonds 
Before we stared to them
There were no milestones
And the path was untiring.

Those melodies were endearing for the soul
Who, didn’t come out of score-sheets
Woods were tranquil and peaceful
Before we approached to them.


God was omnipotent
Before we bothered him to be praised
And love was crystal pure
Before we possessed. 

Some bonds were spiritual
Before we touched them to acclaim.

“DREAMS AND PROMISES”

A dream taps on someone’s thought,
An Image searches somebody inside the glassy space.

Does the sky wait for cloud
And why shall cloud wait for the soil
Would it be stony heart, waiting for urge
And why should urge wait for dark deserts to cry.

A dream taps on someone’s thought
An image searches somebody inside the glassy space.

Half the truths of life were lies by half
So were lies came true frowned in half
There were half of the promise conceived halfheartedly
And life got A semi-heart over the podium of corporeal half.

In these halves and promises 
Where existed Life, blurred as an abyss depth of field

A dream taps on someone’s thought,
An image searches somebody inside the glassy space.

Half of the letters were left in the envelope
Half of the bonds broke in half of the moment,
Half of the convictions among all went for an exodus
And four letters of life left fours of the love.

Among these half promises and half convictions
Where existed life, blurred as an abyss depth of field

A dream taps on someone’s thought,
An image searches somebody inside the glassy space.

Does the sky wait for cloud
And why shall cloud wait for the soil
Would it be stony heart, waiting for urge
And why should urge wait for dark deserts to cry.

              *******

“DIGITAL LETTER”

It is too late
for a worthy thought
To jot down.
Each and every atom 
of refined cellulose
has been stuffed by the graffito.
Black-boards have no space,
Crumbled with the script 
Having no mean repute syndrome.
spikelet shall be impregnated
with the integrated circuit 
and peas with diodes.
Our progenies will be astonished
after hearing the story of mulberries,
Strawberry orchards
and the mango tree,
Which will be tilted
By the weight of optical mouses
And barks--
Camouflaged with mouth pad.
Heart will be succumbed by brain
And emotions by the software commands.
Forget about carbohydrates and proteins
And be ready 
To digest, Silicon and Germanium,
Mind it---It is not a furphy
In the next galaxy
We will be trying to cultivate
The real flora and fauna
With protoplasm.
Only then, we will have
Enough cellulose to make 
Non-digital sheets of
White paper.

Then we will try
To jot down worthy thoughts.
But guess! who shall be spared?
By the paradox of machine language
And the monotonous labyrinth of
Control Alt and Delete----.
At the dooms day,
The boy will tell to her girlfriend----
Sorry dear, I cannot--I feel hanged
Running out of memory---
Heat sink is melting---
I must share
That you have a different operating system
Than mine and it does not support too
My hardware-------

          ******* 

“LOVE FOUND BODY LOST”

I reap languid reminisce 
Of pretty restive, clandestine moments 
Euphorically fey and the penultimate hope 
Clamoring and growling 
As an avalanche tumbling down 
Into deadly icy memoirs. 

You wore the earth 
On your perk-up eyebrow 
Contoured with the sky 
And bestowed me 
With your cupid bow. 

I sustained on your life kisses 
Novel fragrance of stolen affinity 
Made my afflictions alloy 
Stopped it dead until cease. 

Though you were a robust mother 
I felled down your arms 
Was not I, enough a child 
To hold my lungs for a better cry. 

I galloped under the rainbow 
Spectrum of your adorable 
In the bright sky of hug. 
Alas! We could have 
A Thought of sizzled dreams 
That they were coconut enough 
For a couple of sparrow. 

Past, always dead 
And same with the memories too
Engraved under the soil of rituals 
So painful for the two hearts 
Being smashed under uncountable hoofs since years. 

Why deserve to be a misogynist 
And broken love—
Seldom good a reason to hate someone. 
Drowning a brown smile into my hair lip 
I imagine your aura 
With a feasible spouse 
And an angle in your lap. 

On the top of a barren butte 
Its painful waiting rising sun 
Still few shy of the horizon 
May I ask, why you drink morning 
And I endeavor morns 
I have more dusky moments to tread towards 
A black hole afterwards.

              *******

"MANNEQUIN"

You may never know
One can break your heart,
You may never mean…
One can deceive your words.

To be in love is art of life
And being love is desire,
To be together is a lovely wish
To be apart is destiny.
So, Come to me, I’ll show you my world
And when you are around, I’ll become a mannequin!

I won’t be asking any question
I won’t be throwing any suggestion
When you sleep I’ll be awake in your dream
And when you are around, I’ll become a mannequin!

I may not be a perfect man
But I owe to appreciate you
I may not be a part of your ideal world
But I am eager to share your dreams.
So, come to me or let me come to you
And when you are close, I’ll become a mannequin.


I won’t be trying a kiss on your neck
I won’t be crying if you keep me out of deck,
When you sing, I’ll words of your songs
And when you are close, I’ll become a mannequin!

You may never know
One can break your heart,
You may never mean…
One can deceive your words.

To be in love is art of life
And being love is desire,
To be together is a lovely wish
To be apart is destiny.
So, Come to me, I’ll show you my world
And when you are around, I’ll become a mannequin!

              *******

“GENERATION GAP”

Some years back 
Dad got me about 
Half score of homologous bottles 
Spilt with paint 
Thick and viscous 
Batter of their soul 
Overthrown, and all over my heart 
Treading with 
Heavy feet of imaginative phrase. 

Mom designed 
A pair of paint brush 
From the pile of 
Dried China-Rose shrub. 
Both of them found some canvas 
Murky, misty and smeared in dole 
Slept from years 
Inside the dark of an ageing chest. 

They inspirited me 
To enjoy fauvism and paint anything--- 
Anything beautiful and distortion free. 
I scribbled 
Many a thick lines, 
They laughed on it 
Kissed my forehead more often 
Ageing beside me and beneath their thought. 

Crept the days 
Evolving in me, 
Bottles condensed less ordinary viscous 
More darken tint. 
I wanted colours of my transient choice 
But the bottles two decades old 
Emerged a bone of passive contention. 

One day dad mentioned a pastoral calm 
That night I painted a huge boxing ring. 
Mom wished, plush blue bedroom 
And a waterfall 
Tranquil and sombre. 
I painted a semi-dark casino 
And a big asteroid falling on earth, 
Hitting a chopper. 

She clamoured for a frame 
Breathing in breast 
And sleeping in a pair of 
Rosy lips. 
I emerged with hunting lion 
And scavenging vultures. 

It was the height of 
Unsatisfying discontentment 
When I painted 
A robust black horse 
Fast and furious 
Strong and determined, 
While they had requested 
For A red holy Cow 
Feeding her calf. 

A few days before 
They had a treaty 
To hold the fort 
Command in a high shrill voice 
To paint a donkey, tame and stake. 

I painted a phoenix 
With the head of an eagle 
And torso of a panther 
Limbs of an orang-utan 
And feet of a squid. 

And they burnt the canvas 
In a fit of rage 
Broken all brushes 
Disposed of all emulsions 
In the deep of a sewer. 

Annoyed and torched 
I made a canvas 
From the skin of my zeal 
Allowed few ounce of blood 
To leave the arteries 
And I painted their voice 
A red holy Cow 
With her calf of their choice. 

In the same rebel night 
The cow broke the stake 
And absconded with her calf 
And my parents 
Who went for a search 
Are still missing with 
Their deceptive laugh.

              *******

“BEING IN LOVE”

If I could born, as a guitar
It would be better than being in love.
If I could play, like a string
It would be better than being in love.

Silence of walls whispered in my eyes
try to sleep, try be deep.
Choirs of emotion nudged my shadow
try to keep, the pain beneath.
Though whole of the half
I dreamt ago
painted half of the whole
I let forgo.
My cries took me above
somewhere up in the space
And I melted down softly
falling from grace.
If I could born as a flute
It would be better than being in love
If I could whistle, like a wood
It would be better than being in love.

In my mind I hate my presence
set to sow, set to mow.
In my heart the fog is dense
set to glow, set to flow,
We need a master
to live a lie,
why not truth be given
few more tries.
Why love is a letter
to lost address,
And heart goes Belgium
for diamond race.
If I could born, as a lake
It would be better than being in love
If I could sing, like a pond
It would be better than being in love.

              *******

“DREAM WORLD”

Purple dream in a violet sleep
Hugs and pillow amid breathe in deep
Soil and sun was yet to glow
Shining stars in bluish deep.


Lonely! Lovely! Rainbow, Stark!
Drowning heart in the abyss of dark
Thought of yours like deepening blue
The lost world ode was singing true.
Purple dream in a violet sleep
Hugs and pillow amid breathe in deep
Wind and fire was yet to blow
Sleeping moon asked west retreat.


Sign ‘n’ cross, few words desperate
Twinkling eyes were urged to set
Hue and hairs on the sun dried wall
Heart was loud but smothered call
Purple dream in a violet sleep
Hugs and pillow amid breathe in deep
Cry and pain was yet to mow
The burning clock had a frozen beep.


Love is growing, time is slow
The world is asking eyes wet show
Heavenly melody lifting me high
Darkness asked for lights replete.
Purple dream in a violet sleep
Hugs and pillow amid breathe in deep
Dew and dawn at the merging slope
Promise and dreams hard to keep.

Purple dream in a violet sleep
Hugs and pillow amid breathe in deep
Soil and sun was yet to glow
Shining stars in bluish deep.

              *******