Poetry Blog by AVISHEK GHOSH (2019)

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Philipos on Happiness (Tue, 7 Jul 2020 08:21 pm)

Anna on Happiness (Tue, 7 Jul 2020 06:07 pm)

Anmolpreet Kaur on Happiness (Tue, 7 Jul 2020 03:59 pm)

AVISHEK GHOSH on Scar (Mon, 6 Jul 2020 05:37 pm)

LEON STOLGARD on Scar (Mon, 6 Jul 2020 04:27 pm)

AVISHEK GHOSH on And You... (Sun, 5 Jul 2020 11:12 am)

on And You... (Sun, 5 Jul 2020 10:14 am)

AVISHEK GHOSH on And You... (Sun, 5 Jul 2020 08:50 am)

LEON STOLGARD on And You... (Sat, 4 Jul 2020 08:22 pm)

Philipos on And You... (Sat, 4 Jul 2020 07:40 pm)

I know all decorated lies,

And fashioned camouflage.

You are an ocean of lies

or an expertise of saleable emotions.

Its an ancient tale.

Every poet can feel.

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The Mask

Once a mask came in my dream,

I tried to grasp it.

It moved fast out of my reach.

Suddenly it began to snicker.

It was so scary.

I felt something odd within me.

It came near me and whispered

"You are doing much better,

You need not wear me".

It vanished and I woke up.

My room was filled with masks.

I recognized each of the masks.

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Don't Bargain

When you have come to buy love

don't bargain.

Its handy,movable and at reasonable price.

Apart from some passionate concocted nights

some well formed kisses are free!

Threre are some extra packages

for memorble photo snaps.

Besides you will be given some

wonderful lonesliness to cherish.

Dont think twice.

What more can you expect !

If you can not pay 

Compensate...

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Pity

I find no reason not to cry,

not to break,

not to awake long,

not to miss you.

I pity the definitions.

 

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I am a wordsmith,

Thats all I know.

Your liking or disliking is yours.

Your indifference hardly pinch me.

I feel an affinity with words,

Words make me restless.

Thats the blessing to me.

I am no poet,shall never be.

I am a Wordsmith .

Like clouds I make collage of words.

numberless collage everyday.

I write to provide nutrients to my soul.

I write to sustain ,to...

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River In Me

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I made few vain attempts to 

make friendship with a river.

I told a lot everyday 

sitting on the bank.

I thought there would be 

little ripples to communicate.

The river was calm more than before.

One day I got down into the river

and drenched my whole body.

That day I woke up at midnight.

Getting down from bed I felt

my feet touching water.

A chill wind was blo...

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Search

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After the stormy night 

I opened my eyes.

A slant sunray was whispering in my ear.

The house was almost blown away.

I heard a faint twitter of a starling.

It had its home on the rig of my house.

I put my hand into my pocket

and found some  darkness, failures and losses.

I stood and went beneath the tree.

The starling was making its nest again.

I stood till the evening...

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Escape

entry picture

After the party and lots of rollicking

I felt uneasy .

And some droplets of cold perspiration came

on my forehead.

I felt someone following me.

I turned back hastily.

I found nothing except my frail shadow.

Suddenly it grew larger and larger.

I could not move.

I cried for help to drag me out.

I just heard a cackle and felt a suffocation.

I woke up and found my body...

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What more ?

The garish lights,

Artistic banners,

A milleu of intellects.

such well chosen melancholy music.

The costliest bouquets.

Dear society!

What more do you need

in your funeral?

 

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Indelible

Erase the pencil mark from the

yellowish page of my heart.

You are fool as ever.

I can still read every lines,

every notch.

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Some Scars,Some Joys

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Let us kiss the sunshine,

Lets adore the shy wind.

They know our story better than

You and me.

You and I were chosen to love,

to bask in the aroma.

How fooolish are we to break some eternal knot !

I feel your grin,your wit and wink.

But who cares,

I live within the moment,

Let us just accept and apart.

Then some tears may be.

But it hardly matters.

I am in so...

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Seeking Help

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Every time I broke up,

I seek your help Poetry.

You are my balm.

I took up my fragile pen,

an scribble.

I dont know if they are poetry or not.

Just they are my life.

I seek your help Poetry 

everytime,in every rainyday.

I dare not ask me the reason.

I am afraid if I reply something more 

than Poetry somehow.

I just need your help Poetry.

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O Sleep,O Dreams !

entry picture

How good our cosy sleep !

How good!

The burning smell does not bother

now-a-days.

The roomfreshners are doing their jobs.

ok,we need not heed their problems.

We just sleep.

Nightmares are our friends.

Dreams are dead letters.

Hush!We are sleeping.

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Celebration Day

Its good to be goods,

In the invisible hands.

As if we are in a cheerful mood

to celebrate of being a puppet.

The concocted movement

all that forcible dance.

They can not restrain

they succumb.

I was labelled.

And adorably ostracized.

I hope you are celebrating

your anniversary of bondage.

So,champagne!

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An Old Story

entry picture

Broken hearts practice the role

day after day.

Its an ordeal.

A metamorphosis or ecdysis.

A retribution or reward.

After a long spell of shower,

a wink.

They did their part well.

Have you heard the silent scream?

 

 

 

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The stony path

And dried leaves ahead.

I think to subjugate.

The Sun above

And a decaying hearth in me

keep whispering "move on,there's the gate"

Glimpse of love,the cosy lap of life

all are but a day dream.

The journey is the life

and the struggle is destiny.

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Debt

You have gone too far.

I am done and dusted dear.

Nope,I will move on.

Move on with a smile.

I owe nothing to you,

even a second.

Rain reminds me the days .

Yet I shed no teardrop.

Really I owe a lot to rains.

 

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The Desire

The phoenix is dejected, may be.

The dreams are in sleep slumber.

The obstinate shadow pricks.

Alone I am in a shabby couch

turning over the pages of life.

I decided to wake up .

Lets gamble again.

I can not succumb to helplessness

Better to burn out day by day.

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Lie ..

Suppose I lied all,

All our smiles were fake.

All the vows you made

are nonexistent.

Suppose all our walks

were merely walks.

The bower we made

is a hoax.

Forget about me..

Can you console yourself ?

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Sick of

Sick of your packaged life,

hatred ,cry and laughter.

We are selling same musty emotions,

in different colourful wrapper.

 

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