Abigail
Abigail, Abigail, keeps haunting me
I don’t remember when it started
Has to be the first seed of love
That planted Abigail in my heart
And etched it there for good….
In Martha I saw Abigail, in Ethel
In them all I chased Abigail
They were good, all of them
Flawless, spotless, free from blame
Lovable, dependable, transparent….
Yet I kept seeking Abigail
With a hallucinatory torment!
Did ever my eyes touch her once?
In a dream woven with fleeting romance
Or her face shone once in the moon
And melted as dew drops in the dazed dark!
Abigail my perpetual phantom
I neither get her nor fathom
I age, Abigail is ageless
Always there, but beyond embrace!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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The Best Place For Truth
“Wake up Jane, got something to tell you,
I have ceased to love you”.
“Oh, I knew it all along”, she said,
“but didn’t let you know I knew! ”
“I knew you were soon done with me,
but made it up by a pretense of love,
and it must have been so painful for you”.
“Why, Jane? Why didn’t you tell me? ”
“cause sometimes the best place for truth
is in the heart, that’s why! ”
“what’s the truth you guarded in your heart? ”
“it matters little to you, my selfishness”
“what selfishness? ”, I cried,
“loving you knowing it would not come back! ”
I woke up from the dream and knew….
I couldn’t let it out of my heart!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Impermanence
There is no hint of end in the air
Nothing to suggest the impermanence
The alluring sky azure and brightly fair
Only a few dropped leaves making little sense!
The smooth silence in the yellowish dark morn
Lends the temptation to be here for good
What was nascent is now quietly born
A resigned desire to stand still in the wood!
In a reality more inviting than the dream
The eyes caress the sky and then the treetop
Seeing yet not seeing in a trance made of whim
They roll down to the ground where they stop!
The trees have shed the withered leaves
Remaining dispassionate and mindless
The grand design Nature ceaselessly weaves
To renew hope and welcome new face!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Coroner's Day
A torn shirt smeared in red
On the table calmly sleeps the dead
Strewn around are organs and the heart
Incredible to imagine them as the departed’s part!
Useless as they are now experimental blocks
Drained of life heedless to the clocks
No love no emotion in the cold dim room
Is living natural or more so is doom?
Reeking of the dead eerie scissors sweep
One by one they cut strong and deep
Dismembering the lover cutting through the brave
But no show of courage when the abode is grave!
Drying bloods of passion drip from the dead
The once living corpse on the table goes fade
With no words or voice feelings blown away
He could at last make the coroner’s day!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Wealth You Don't Treasure
Wealth you don’t treasure
As you have the key
To the endless pleasure
Of waking up from your dreams
In the middle of night
And tiptoeing to where
The grass is getting its first dew
Preparing the dark liquid
To break into a grey dawn!
Wealth you don’t treasure
As you feel happy in a golden morn
Not knowing why
You get up to go and stand
Quietly beneath a tree
And let your senses brim
With all the sight and sound
Feel the leaves dropp on your hair
In a silent symphony
Before they touch the ground!
Wealth you don’t treasure
[...] Read more
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Combat with Enemies
Bayonet and helmet, go may get killed
Waiting for your blood the baying battlefield
The day is hot the sun a smoky ball
Blazing guns boom bodies freely fall.
It's only might, all about power
You hope just once you could smell a flower
Loved ones are gone, home far away
You could do little, you didn't have a say.
Till you came here you wore a hero's smile
Ready to go on combat with an enemy so vile
Your courage is now pierced needled with fears
Your throat is lumpy dry, eyes fill with tears.
Bayonet and helmet, go ruin your dream
You may not come alive, chances are slim
The devils that have fired youthful imagination
Will call you martyr, you died for the nation.
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Living is All About
Living is all about a lovely day
And nights dreamy and romantic
Being able to say what you need to say
Ever seeking the crescent happiness peak!
Living is trying to carve out a lovely day
Being able to listen to what others have to say
Standing beneath the sky with stretched hands
Doing joyfully life’s little errands!
Living is finding out there’s still enough hope
Odds are there but you too are there to cope
That for every dark spot is a thousand lights
The world is a better place when love unites!
Living is travelling on ever widening shore
Be it in sunshine or when the rains pour
Leaving behind bouquets of smiles
For the ones coming up for the long weary miles!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Sentinel of the Dark
The furtive husher of noise
Stealthily graceful in poise
The silent sentinel in the din
Call them cute or mean!
They flourish they thrive
Networking like beehive
A stubborn snatching cult
Life for them is difficult!
They're surely a game
Stones are pelted at them
People say they're no good
Always hungry for food!
Out in the rain and heat
There's no love in the street
Day for them is rough ride
Cowering in corners to hide!
When the town sleeps at night
In the dark their eyes glow bright
Presence they freely announce
These hunters are ready to pounce!
[...] Read more
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Zeus
Zeus has a normal life
Two children and a loving wife
Yet he feels his days crappy
He never is really happy!
Zeus likes his wife on his side
And when the children on his shoulder ride
Yet he feels he’s missing something
In nothing of these he’s getting the zing!
Zeus’ head wants to remain rational
But down there pricks the monster carnal
Goading him to break free
Telling him ‘you are not happy’!
Zeus after a prolonged strife
Breaks the shackle blows the fife
Other women with madness he hounds
Crazed with the blindness this world abounds!
Zeus wakes up to the riddle at last
That happiness cannot come out of lust
It’s always there in a normal life
Two children and a loving wife!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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When the Rain Stops
When the rain stops and the sun comes out
I have a feeling, a nagging little doubt
That the clouds and the just departing rain
Have stolen from me something
Never to be got back again!
Those moments of tender touching on cheeks
Chasing droplets running down window sill
The swaying shower that from the sky leaks
To give the yearning soil a vigorous thrill!
The symphony the rain clatters on the tin
The sounds the leaves make while they drink
I want to hold onto but lose in the din
As the landscapes around me dim and shrink!
The raining moments leave with something of me
Hidden inside and longing to be free
What one rain takes the other never returns
The times, the hopes and the fire that burns!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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