SUMMER

SUMMER

Cool morning,

Summer sun,

Brown flower greets banana green,

Birth has roots down on the earth,

In the nature, none can obscure the sun,

Birth as a gift that travels like light,

With records of name, address, story,

No need to stop at doorsteps of ashes,

Because, scorching sunrays burn only

Pirate amoeba, infected, to immaculate a body,

Incidents flow like noun, across a sentence, 

With subject and predicate, spine in a body, 
So many bodies cannot travel on wings of light
And fall on the ground and are dispersed into two - 
Exorcism and hymns of spirits - different forms of
The first born, it brings bodies arranged in 

Hell and heaven, drifting away from origin,

Veiled attempt to hell, inward knowing

To heaven, and it makes morning sun scale gaze,

Language gets momentum, and it is noon when

All tests are done to burn stained attempts.

We owe longing,  and thereby whole essay so formed

Feeds contention, conclusion, far away

From ashes, as our eyes condemn burning

Of dreams, even if land becomes infertile,

That the nature suspects it cannot be. 

OLD AGE BURNS

“You are old; your arguments are not always justified,

A simple thing a child can do, you do not, please do not try.”

Different types of points, causes of criticism, honky sledge,

Hewing consequence, neglected dictum, old drapes, every day,

Lack of sunlight, dark threshold, living in angry spoofing,

Blowing wind through aged bones, no whispering, torn melody,

All good things snatched, a way formatted for relief from old turf,

Shouting, cleaver challenges, looking at airplanes is old-age dream.

TRIBUTE TO RENOWNED PAINTER DWIJEN GUPTA

I have last met with

Painter and artist Dwijen Gupta, when

He was suffering from Parkinson’s disease, and

Was honored and felicitated on 11.04.2017 by

Parkinson’s disease Patient’s Welfare Society, Kolkata.

Because art and poetry for aesthetic purpose

Are beauty in creative world, and

I was acquainted with him since 2005,

Because all my first three poetry books

Have cover layouts with art works of two

Renowned artists, Rabin Mondal and

Bijan Chowdhuri, and by the time I learnt

Designing from his methods of layout.   

Mr. Gupta passed away on 15.05.2017.

I first came to know it from artist 

Karunamoy Sur's post in Facebook.

My poetry brochure THE SIEGE (April, 2017)

Wherein three photos of his paintings was printed

Along with my poems, was virtually released

To honor the contemporary painter Dwijen Gupta

Who will remain as a smart creator and concentric to

Indian art work of his time and this era.

My humble honor to this legendary painter,

Dwijen  Gupta.

Amidst his own creations, he is still alive with an identity.

All eyes will be delighted first on his creations and paintings,

Marvel at tones of colors and imagination from heart of feelings. 
His works have foresight, sequences, thinking beyond at sight,
By bright rhetoric, leaving viewers fastened with everything
In the knowing world, within fair and silent story he told.
As if they listen to him, try to know his dream and aspiration,
The whole of flight he created, by hand with brush and colors. 

RIPPLE OF A SUMMER DAY IN KOLKATA EM BYPASS

After visiting my attending eye doctor for retinal ailments,

My journey begins through spectacular EM Bypass,

Some portion of the way under the construction,

Some portion of the way created to multiple circular flyovers,

Metro rail, high rise architectural elegance,

One step each towards vision and beauty,

Striding with gentle quoting from a love poem,

As if my voice raises to utter some lines

With sights of my eyes around the summer May,

As if my eyes are tucked into magic landscape,

Where water bodies do not leave, but designed carefully,

Glimpses, strangeness falls ahead of our great

Grand-mothers’ old days, when it was only jungle,

Land owners’ hands and feet are still seems to be expelled,

The sun reveals its melting effect.

The asphalt road turns hot.

Commuters are feeling hot and sweating,

Inside crowded bass, passers-by feeling

Warm on radiation of heated road,

As if the road says to all in question

“Why you do not have everything to feel cool.

When you are advancing for a new world,

When you sign everything for your newness,

Why do you feel annoyed, tired, irritated?”

The nature does not know who you are

But it does know you are one of its partners,

Distortion of any kind would tell a story of robbery,

The nature knows what it knows, we do not instead.

Prof. Stephen Hawking once said:

Humans must leave Earth in 100 years to survive.

Are you ready?

All melting asphalts, matchbox houses, artificial lakes,

Are falling gently with warring manifestos like

Burning trees waiting for termination. 

SUMMER

SUMMER 01

In the summer,

Commuters suspend journey

In nacked sun-rays,

Burning sensation

On the face,

Body feels irritation

Water dried out,

A lazy and drowsiness

Feeling foments,

While walking

Under heat wave.

A few passersby,  

Road looks deserted,

Black pitch heated

Burns shoe,

Feet feel burning sensation,

Whispers of the green

A rest for a little time

Under the cool shadow,

It nourishes body

For another walk

Just to reach home

Quickly. 

SUMMER 02

Summer in its roughness

With heat wave of sun-rays

Sets up

Stench of sweating

To commuters

And they move

To complete work

Destined to their way

In mid-noon song.

Greens point to flowers

For something,

Life is there

At the tips of every

Odds of life, beauty honored. 

CREATIVE SUMMER

The river is at its worst time,

No water, only sand and concrete bridge,

Summer is the damper, undelivered,

It never pays passengers so throttling

With water, villagers sitting under

Tree shadow, scorching sun-rays,

People of the earth beg water,

Centrifugal water resources drops,

Mother earth says, “No, No, No,

Water is my efficiency, wait a bit,

Wild things cannot go, water needs flowing,

Wasteful usage makes everything dry.”

No question of residual water flowing,

Mother earth cannot end up

In back-flowing, motivates raising and

Flowing of water from the source of

Load treatment we do not know about,

The sky is not clearly blue, clouds forming,

Alarm is raised, Kalbaisakhi arrives,

Surrounds everything with storm and rain,

Then pillars of bridge hide under water,

Summer delivers creative power, with greens,

Natural sensing creates survival notes

Like music that removes wild things out.