Song Of Heat: A Tribute
no cloud to dark
your hottie lagoon
wind sometimes travel
in the garden
rest the day
draught cracks the surface
water lost its layer
to feed the thirsty crown
....once long dawn
of rising amber
touched the wake
never to die the hallucination
of a monarch to play.........
riding rough
stone alley through the greens
of morbid
Draculic door of lying agony
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poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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A Killing, Its Not Love
Talk less and stand quiet
Your lamentation has lost its viability
And when you tried much to touch
I was with your touch
But now its a legend
Nowhere to keep your own soul
Nowhere to fly your extended dream
Now an alone nestler just listen the sound of dripping
A bitter hangover just splashing our feathers
The broken mast some formulated mutants
Trying to catch the serenity....ha......
The bogus doctrine-supplier simply... your brain
Every moment you suck the shackles of eternity
Go beyond all origins of morality and find
A dream-breaker shouts loud to strangle your death
To life again with hostile manifesto which hangs
from the high of negative positivity.....
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poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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Dust And Diction
Pranab k c
30/08/2011
Dust can never build a castle
Stags together to make a dump
Wait for the next storm to blow away
Somewhere else with its own direction
But An ant can
Instinct guides them to live together
To carry weight more than an pin-tip soul
You can debate instinctual paradox
Not any way to guide the move
With silent observe I see your defeat
When contradict a sudden flash
Of orthodox values dictates you
To plant another chastity
With moral support
And gradually began to vacillate
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poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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Sparrow And The Earth-Day
flash back belongs to childhood days
sparrows the nearest neighbor
dawn to down the vermilion sun
busy we kept those abrupt flying motion
room, roof flexible floor to ocean
sometimes one but many times together many
took bath in dust now is myth
sparrow our first target to hunt
with gun never breeds bullet
sound simply as toys could make
but we would get proud to shoot at sight
since the naughty wings never gave them chance
to sit silently at a place more than moment
little sparrow the soft heart chirped random
silent noon of schoolclosed days
never got silence any noon whether sleep or not
sparrows followed us just did Sharlock Holmes
little their heart full of life, vigor kept them rest
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poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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The Shrine Replicates You
quaking beauty of terrified gesture
lastly uttered the depth of dying sintex
perfumed favor of that fascinating glimpse
quaked me my drought of endless waiting
when nights mean stemming the steam behind
a birth of its fabulous vindictive apathy
guttering touch the strawberry my finger tips
cool but gramophone once pinned the voice
loud to cheek the chin chained the lagoon landing
nuts the shell as beads the buffer O' my cheer
stalon topping such stoney tavern a dim light
not light equipped with so-dark dubbing sensations
snatch the way from browsing error rather vanquished
voluptuous brings to shoot the real ditch of dribbling fathom
echoes the bip through nail to nerve
streaming the tug through jammer to gripper
the hymn hangovers crystaline crudity yet crabs
thousand fire to burn all buried bristoles
remnants od vanished debris exquisite the aroma
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poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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Are You A Dreamer Please!
saddles are broken
rein unbound
riding inevitable
dropp of blood
raining from sky
gallop cracked wild
hills gave pass to mountains
quaking earth pulled back
debris buried trespassers
watery coins from deadlock
cashed the beggars
pamphlet hookers gone mad
group of drunks smuggling smacks
nice quoted loin shows its charity
tramps were stutering praying dawn
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poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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Word Mechanism Behind A Poem
haunted by a word from the very morning
as soon as morning opens its door to give us birth again
a word follows my nail tips, my tongue tips, my minor fracture
in the left leg little finger where a pain of wound
during the last day stretching its passion
everywhere its tail, it means the tail of that very word
crawling silently to grasp my thoughts
daily paper comes with its regular course
wants to be strangled by proper attention at least once
at least a single news-eater who will suck
the last dropp of its imprinted ejaculation
everywhere observes the shadow of that very word 'tyranny'
take a bold sip of hot tea to get a move from it
yet hot too is also haunted by the word perhaps
threat me so loudly with its intense warm
about to be jumped up and throw away abruptly
the content from mouth
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poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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Dream Or No-dream
stands she alone on the horizon
white her cloths blowing with mad rapture
long her airy hair playing to be off of the root
full moon strangles the surroundings to make it cry
cry not to get any another dawn
the sphinx as a look of behind chapters
the past never shows us the light
what lamped the imprisoned nymphs
night after night the whip the paws
the chiseling passion of the crown
marked their cracks their gallons of stallionic gallops
flooded the birth of enslaved curse
now glitter to revenge from ground to growth
moonlit night...
night scratches the certain rest
with the nails of horrible uncertain
flagging the smoke the dirt of dirty inhuman
possibly pissing their ancestors
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poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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Comment As A Poem
The self-righteous Calvinists
who speak peace to Arminians
would say that we hold to 'doctrinal regeneration.'
'Doctrinal regeneration, ' they say,
is the view that knowledge of a certain doctrine
or set of doctrines is a prerequisite to salvation.
A new self! That is the effect of regeneration -
… created to be like God in true righteousness.
The salvation is a deliverance from the wrath of God,
deliverance from sin and guilt,
deliverance from Satan
and deliverance from death and hell.
But it is not only a deliverance from something -
it is also a deliverance unto something -
unto God, unto fellowship with God,
unto service to God,
and unto enjoyment of eternal life.
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poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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Cloud Metaphor
It was not my turn to chase the cloud everywhere
It was not my birth to penetrate the cloud every sphere
It was not me the cloud overcast many skies where it shine
It was me who seeks brightening of pits from dawn
every crack of bonafide fencing needed to be shackled by glee
It was me who fastened the buckles of night with fairy wings
every pack of threatened gear to accelerate high to win the ending
It was not the cloud whom been paid the maxim to dark the noon
not been whipped to dry the trickery the lovely angel played to defeat
It had no hurry to quick-fit the ramping by flattering the vampire palpits
It was a choice to ratify graveyards to the grave of time endless
It was to funny the gamblers never earn any coin to please pacific soul
specific journey to join the uncertain whole which never would be choose
cloud- cloud the marvelous peak of covering shades, thirsty soil, reverberate lips
every time I preach the head to glorify mind it shades requisite none but me
every time see the fields of flickering fables tantalize to toxic testament
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poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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