Shesher Sheydin

Shwapno niye bhaloi chhilam rupkothader deshey
Shotyi elo, shunyo hoye, muchrey dilo sheshey
Shwapno niye bhaloi chhilam rupkothader deshey


Bhitorey bahirey jol daag rekehey jaye
Shonkrantir raatey, phooler malaye
Bhitorey bahirey jol daag rekhey jaye

Baki shob pichhutaan mithye bujhhi?
Uraye puraye shudhu taharei khNuji
Baki shob pichhutaan mithye bujhhi?

Shwapno gulo shotyi toh noy, kshonik shukher bhrom
Tomra bujhhi bhorer kheya-e, ami-i bYatikrom
Shwapno gulo shotyi toh noy, kshonik shukher bhrom

Eikhanetei thamtey hobey, aar egono noy
Hothhat bujhhi joriye dhorey hariye jaoar bhoy
Eikhanetei thamtey hobey, aar egono noy

Onek din porey

Onek din porey pothey naamlam
Shoriirey trishnar jol

Aar shoriirer bairey,
Gobheer shunyo

Shotyi kothar onek daam

Shotyi kothar onek dam, ami goreeb lok
Kintu jaara shotyi boley, taader shukhey jaagi

Koyekta phool shukno hoye jomei achhey kothao
Smriti-gulo o elomelo, kanna hoye i bhasho

Obantor jegey thaka, kaar mukher kotha bhebey?
Aar shob kichhu mithye holeo, ei jantrona tuku aapon






Shotyi kothar onek daam, ami goreeb lok







Aabar konodin jodi khidey paye,
nijer koljey ta kheye nebo

Poth

Raasta amaye bheeshon taney
Ami raasta-e hNattey bhalo bashi.

Ghorer onek abokash,
Dukkho aaney, srot aaney
Maya aaney
Aar kakhono shakhono bhengeo dYay

Pother shei abokash nei
Sheykhaney keu karur jonyo dNariye thake na,
Tai pother bhangon nei, klanti nei, kshoma nei

Raasta amaye bheeshon taaney
Ami raasta hNattey bhalobashi

Pahar

Paharer kono shonkirnota nei,
jotilota nei,
osthirota nei,
Manusher achhey

Ekhono aami manush

Kintu ekdin,
oi pahareyi hariye jaabo
eka eka,

Shomosto bhoy aar pichhutan chhNirey pheley
Mishey jaabo
Ekakitwye, goponiyotaye,
mohan shanti tey….


Shamosto klanti,
dwidha,
glani,
chitkaar,
Muchhey jaabey sheidin,
Jaani

Kintu ami ekhono manush
Eka thaktey amar ekhono khub bhoy korey….
Ekhono dom bandho hoye ashey,
Ekhono pNajor kota achhey,
Bhitorey onek, onek teebro theke teebro-taro
jantrona o royechhey
Shei shob kichhu chepey rekhey
niyoto amake shong shajtey hoy,
hashtey hoy
Shoujanyota bashotoh boltey hoy:
“Ami bhaloi achhi”

Ekdin, pahar habo
Jani….
Tatodin, nahoy ebhabei eka eka katiye dilam?

Bhalo theko, tumi, tomra
Shobbai…..

Bhalo theko

O bhoy

O bhoy,
Tui kothaye lukiye chhili?

Kothaye chhili shunyo jol, kothaye chhili alo?
Naam likhechhi dheuer mathaye, chinho rakha bhalo


Mon kharaper bYathar theke bhoy i apon bujhhi
Bikel bYalaye haraye jey jon, taarey shondhye bYala khNuji

Ghorer koney lukiye chhilo shur na jana bNashi
Ghoriir kNataye khNjutey holo kanna rashii rashii

Matir tolaye chomkey othhey hothhat bheeshon taan
Udhao pother shongii thakuk thomkey jaoa gaan

O bhoy,
Tui kothaye lukiye chhili?

O bhoy,
Tui kothaye lukiye chhili?

O bhoy,
Bagaaney jaabi?

Ghurni

Abar ekta siren bajchhey
Shahor ghumiye achhey. Shabdhaan!

Shahorer chokh nei, raastar achhey
Raasta asholey prohorii.
Raasta ghomoy na. Ghumochchhey na
Shabdhaan!


Dukhho-upotyoka, ochena pakhi….
Chhayapothey o kaar payer chhap?
hNete gechhi, balir tot dhorey,
adho-ghumey, kakhono, jegey
Oneyk oneyk durey, jegey thakey tila
Paar bhangey jol, hNatu-jol,
Teney rakhey, shikorey, trishnaye….

Dekhini kuasha poth kuasha tramline hoye
Kakhono dhulobalir haat dhorey
neon bashpey eshey meshey
Dakini pherot aar, dNarai ni thomkey, dekhini, dekhini
pichhoney phirey…..

Pathorey takhon chitkaar, akashey chitkaar
Andhokaarer buk chhNirey falafala aguner
phona, taroaal…
“jao, choley jao, durey shorey jao
aar kakhono konodin e’pothey esho na, dNariyo na,
dorjaa bandho!”

Aagun takhono lelihaan, neel, chamraye phatol
dNarai ni, aar dNarai ni ami….

Guptoghatok ekhono raastaye
Andho-golir koney
Aar siren e bheeshon bhoy:
Shabdhaan! Shabdhaan!

Tonight

I celebrate you in my poems tonight
My words are on fire,
My fingers tremble in some unknown thirst
And very soon,
this page will go up in flames
I worship you, with my words,
tonight


Tonight,
the stars are quivering.
the moon seems sadder
and the music has fallen silent
in love…..

Tonight,
the river glows in silver,
the trees remain awake
And,
gripped, as if,
with some unknown fever.
the wet soil lets out her hidden sighs
to the tender breeze….


It is at moments like this
That you become the Angel of sorrow,
and fly out into those million folds of the
wordless sky
And I see you, whispering
all your untamed dreams and songs
to the rain in soft motion…..
And I see the Milky Way melting
into the kind breasts of the ocean

I celebrate you in my poems tonight
I celebrate you in my poems tonight

ChhNera Chithhi

Nijer kheyaley raat dhheu bali bhangey.
Odbhut onujog. Gobheerey, aaro gobheerey
Sthitisheel.

Upotyoka thekey jYamon
protyoho protikkhar protyakhan
Prottokkho korey neel-machhi
ebong onYanyo-patongera
Sheykhaney projapoti dhaye
Gaan-gaye
Shonkrantir shankromon,
Shukhey, shammoney,
nishkromon

Tai bujhhi aaj shMaronarthhi der notun besh!

Aar bhromonarthi der notun desh…..

………………………………………………………………………………………

Om Manipadme Hum, Manipadme
Bheshey jaoa maaney nijer chhondey
Haaoar gondhye
Shaboler pholaye
Shikorer tolaye

Shudhijon, pipasharto
Kshoy, kshoy kormagoto
pNajorey lipto hawoa,
Bhoy…bheseshon bhoy……

Ke tomar jenechhilo stob, Tothagato?
Ke tomar dekhhechhilo aalo?
Ke tomaye beshechhilo bhalo?
Protidan chahey nai bujhhi
Cheyechhilo shudhu shoja-shuji!

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Bon-badarey murti-gorey aanmona kon Ramkinkor
Shei pathorei pran dhheley dYay ujaan-sroter Tarashankor
ENtel-matir du’ar thheley ashbey bujhhi notun jon
Udash haaoaye shurer bNadhon bhroshto kono bon-srijon
Ei pothey aaj udhao pothik udaash megher kashto nei
Moner kotha bhulbey jey jon bikel-bYala-e spashto shei



………………………………………………………………………………………..


Onek desh ghurechhi,
Urechhi. Uriyechhi,
Purechhi. Puriyechhi
Ekhon bujhhi ba jorar shomoy
Shob bYatha, kshato, srot, benojol,
Shob, Shamosto kichhu bujhhiba
Juronor shomoy ekhon

O notun, tui purono ke bhoy pash?

…………………………………………………………………………………….


Pichhutaan, shey toh thakbei….
Tobuo neon-dhaka niyoto shohurey raatrey
Ekhono somudrer garjon shona jaye
Batashey nona-balir ghran….

Raastagulo asholey shomudro
Bari-ghor gulo –
bichchhinno bhashomaan dwip
Onek gopon goponiiyota jomiye jomiye jhhinuk bNachhey
Mukto toiri hoy……

Taarpor,
Shei shob mukto bikri korar jonyo toh khola-bajaar achhei……

……………………………………………………………………………………..

Michhil e hajaaro mukh
Shatotoh-shoncharomaan
Manush hawoar shukh
Niye ashey obhimaan,
obiraam....

Niirob shamorthoney
Birol nimontroney
Bishonno brishti-phNotaye
Megh-bhanga aalga chhWotaye
Lutiye porchhey shahor
Lukiye gunchhey prohor
Barof-dhaka kabor
Bujhhi ba nichchhey khabor
Ke kothaye choley gYachhey
Kotha ke ba dukhey achhey?


Nishwashey abokaash,
Bishwashii shahobash



Mukh dhekey dao
Shukh eNkey nao…..


……………………………………………………………………………….


Ami ekhon bhaloi achhi
Esho, ek-shathey bhalo thakbo.
Ami ekhon purey jachchhi
Esho, ekshathey purbo….



……………………………………………………………………………………………



Gorar shomoy hisheb koshar proyojon nei,
Hisheb-nikesh shob jomiye rakhtey hoy
bhangar shomoy kaajey laagbey boley
Phatoler, bhangoner, bichitro jYamiti
Bhangoner shabdo –
Eshob i hoytoh manush ke bNachiye rekhechhey etokaal


Kintu, bhaba bhalo
jey kichhu kichhu jinish achhey
Jeygulo konodin bhangbey na
Bhabtey bhalo laagey,
jey amrao ei digontobistrito bhangoner,
ghurnijhhorer mukhey
Bhengey na jaoar potaka orabo ekdin !





……………………………………………………………………………………………






Aakashey joler ghran.
Matitey obujhh taan
Madoley matal praan
Stombhito jayogan
Spordhyae boliyaan
Shesher shei shMoshan
Aajo bujhhi bhashoman
Aajo bujhhi omlaan….

Artonaader prarthonaye
BYathito maanei bYartho noy……

O kaar bNashi baajey?


……………………………………………………………………………………


Jalodoshyu-ra ashchhey
Jalodoshyu-ra bhashchhey
Jalodoshyu-ra hashchhey

Jodio bojhhey ni shukh tara
Mouno-broti Shuktaara….

………………………………………………………………………………………….

Hothhat aaguney garjon!
Bujhhi kichhu korbei arjon?

Kintu,
Ora dakholdari chaye
Aar,
aagun nibhey jaye,
chithhi pNouchhoy na….

…………………………………………………………………………………………

Ekla nouko, boithha bhashey
Nodiir pani, buker kachhey
Bodhir pranii, sheo toh bNachey
Odhir, jaani, moner pashey
Shesh bikeler sharbonashey!


Klanti, ebong bhranti
Ebong shobar sheshey….
Shanti…..

…………………………………………………………………………………………


Aar chNader-buri,
Chorka kaatchhey
Galpo bunchhey
Aaro bunbey
Aar buri-chNad
Ekla hNatchhey
Kanna shunchhey
Aaro shunbey…..


………………………………………………………………………………………………


Punoshcho:
Tomake dekhtey pachchhi,
Paharer oloukik churaye
Shomudrer dheu-dYotonaye
Rukkho balir bukey
Amar shommukhey

Bhalo theko,
shukhey, sharbonashey
Bhalo theko.
ekhaney, amar pashey

Incarnation

Stumbling through the lost kingdoms,
Ancient, like legends,
and your body the ocean so vast,
the mind gets a cold light and haze and blue.

Stumbling through. Lost. Mirrors.


There’s a desert in the backyard
And another far far away
Fenced, long ago, white with numbness
It snowed once. Blood. Snow-Man, smiles. Snowman. Pervert.


Roman and distant. Woman. Snow man, the pain pains
And I’ll stand tall. Lighthouses. Garbage cans.
I opened the door. I faced what was coming.
A storm. A dream. A little white boat.
I opened the door. Yes.


People watching us. Men of shadows.
And women from the chateaus
And those other silences too. Never mind.
Sail,
Bloom,
Dream,
Exorcise…..


And there I’ll stand for you.
Between the ridges and the life
Between the edges and the knife
Between your eyes and the voice
Between your sighs and the choice
Between everything that swims and everything that drowns
Between the dancing nymphs and the naked towns
Between you and me
Let’s plant a tree
Flowers. Blood. Flowers. Huh!


Half deserted and half baked through Angels and nights and moons
and nihilist fancies. To burn. And to burn. And to burn. Besides the lakes
and the northern breeze to circle us in the vast cage of epiphany and to
make-believe that it’s not a chain anymore but flowers with sex and eyes and
then again the killers and the healers and the preachers and the nightcrazy creatures
Fall. Rain, drums and drumsticks and thunder for those who seek alms
For the ocean knows many tales and the skeletons know a few
And yet they mone for the glory and the daze for everything to exist like caves and beware beware for caves are graves with exclamation marks and other annotations draw
Fresh prayers from severed lips which knew how to kiss once but are pale cold and dry now because the desert never forgives though the ocean does and both of them forget and are safe-keepers of promises for others to live with them and words and turbulent images
Of what we think and we are cold and arms and all and sleep and again the fire gets fanned and elves come out in moonlight and the carnival begins in Rome and here and in the gypsies whose tongues were slashed by the evil red-bloodshot drunk wine rhododendrons in mountain lost wilderness and yes and beware and beware for the theatres have trapdoors which open to rooms filled with blue smoke and choked men of stone and women of marble with frozen tears and chosen rears and a void devoid of their and our own empty reasons to cry and to live and to blank blankets of joyless sorrowless painless travesties and geometries which seem so beautiful and straight and yet are stillborn though dead infants dream in those tidal wombs as well of the wet dark damp rooms where they spend the rest of their non-existent deaths and harmonies, ah but who plays the harmony the tune so sweet in this midnight death fog? And who digs for treasures now?

Is it a dream. Is this truth?

Winter arrived once, riding on a pale green song.
We were reborn in the same waves. Rooms.

I was born in a green gallery. The slaves were clapping
The jokers were holding photographs. The stars were eating the moths.
Suddenly, the doors sprang open and fountains and light and darkness and circles
and round and holy grey droplets came in through the sands and everything became hollow. I remember a yellow nightshade. Was it you? I see a yellow nightshade.

Is it you?


The king sees everything. The king is old. The trees are old. The streets are mad. They celebrate. Let them.

Mahogany epiphanies,
symphonies,
agonies.
Oaks in cloaks.
Machines choke
Toads croak
Dream and smoke…..

There are snakes in cemeteries
We think of sex in symmetries
Phantom, who are you?
Killer, I know you!

And then the hummingbirds became sad for they could hum no more
Crosses gather moss. Our saintly subways are breaking down.
Someone save their souls.
And you were born in a bullet hole
And I’m an actor playing my role
Snuff. Ghostcandles. Wax. Melt. Melt.
Incense in your temple, your temple is dark and I am the priest
A serpent sleeps inside.
And there are laws to abide
The breeze
The flame
In two-s and three-s
The first shame
From Bethlehem
I missed my aim
And hatred came

And no one new how the dark scent had taken over and how the flags were still fluttering and how we died and were reborn everymoment and our thrones and our crowns were meant to drown in the tumult of this restless, restless life for the mad men and women had gathered round the lighthouse in awe and I woke up to see the curtains being drawn and being lifted through the smoke and the haze of several sacred centuries when we learned to love in the monasteries hidden behind the veil of some unknown gaze-dark for the midnight had taken over and the lights bore the very same fragrance of these burning flowers and those burning hours and the hidden sisters prayed when our lips and our hearts came closer to the oblivion where no one can ever hide and everything seems so perfect, eternal and pure…. Encircled by the dawn. With fifteen million shades of light glowing in the breast of this Milky Way, and that Milky Way, and fifteen million Milky Ways all along the highway, and those other shiny things which are too heavy to carry to the camps must be left behind but for those rain-soaked sermons by our doorsteps.

Awaken.
Forsaken.
This joyride
That ebb-tide
Burn
Turn.


They arrive in waves with the streets and oceans and blood
They are the paladins.
They have fire in their mouth,
Poison in their throat
And lilies in their hand. Children of Eternity. Oedipus of Time. There. Their
Hidden chambers down below
Dark alleys
Sweatsweet valleys
Moonlit galleys
And shallow gallows
Spreading through. The primitive oak. Roots. Through the bones of time, heaven and dustbins, reaching out, reaching out to feel, to kneel, to falter before the altars and to break down into every single of the thousand drops from the sleepless guards made of broken pianos keys as they moan with the corpses of the abyss and the catacombs tired dreams and snakes from some misty wild haunted-sonnet-sad midnight land hunting for the flames the shames the names to tame the selfsame frames of fame and the game that aim at the lame and claim to maim those who came to blame all of them. There it lies. Down beneath the crosses. Defeat and absinthe. Our heroes. Bored minstrels. All.

Strange birds of dawn,
Begone!
Lights. Turn them on

And tragedies become obscene in the final scene with some hidden screen in-between the actor, the acted, and the eternal sin. The caterpillar becomes a train in philosophies and silences and jeweled crowns and fuelled asses and the witch in the heath with her coldtits-coalpits-razorslits weaves her own little sky old and withered away through moments and epiphanies of those passionate fashions and fashionable passions towards the dusks and masks and sunsets and unrests and all things bright and beautiful all creatures great and small and stoned blue liquor-piss-smelling sunflowers in public lavatories after the painter became rain. And clouds pay their visit half-way down the road and feet freezes.

Languish.
Anguish.
Death-wish.

The army enters town. Marching sounds throughout the seraphim-night. And horses. A million horses. Tanks enter like those sudden gasps of the grasping trap that wraps our sleepless sleeps and listless lips to weep and creep and trip over the tulips that grow deep within us and them at night. The army enters town.

I feel you. Juxtaposed. Between images and me. Through radiances, audiences and raindances. Holy light. Holy. Fatal. Poetic.


Today is a beautiful day.
Flowers sway.

Today is a beautiful day.
Children play

Today is a beautiful day.
I’m on my way.


Today is a beautiful day
It is.


Tonight we shall sing
Bells ring

Tonight we shall sing
About everything

Tonight we shall sing
I will be your king

Tonight we shall sing
Let’s kiss


We’ve been gambling with our hollow wisdoms for the relics of factory-smoke for so long, long….. Smoke becomes the collar bone. Smoke. We’ve been yearning. I don’t remember for how long. How long? Was it the snow? Was I a cannibal? Where’s the ritual? Where’s the sacrifice? Seems like so many eras and ants and ladders and circus-song-broken-heart-w agon-monsters and centaurs of these nightmares and other nightmares have passed and I’ve been here by the river where flames run dry and children of flowers dance atop the fire and I’ve been watching. Watching. Still gaze. We’ve been watching. They’ve been watching.

For you who conquered every storm, my dreams. All for you. For the petalkissed venom wet drizzle rain rain all for the ones who never talked was it?oh! never ever to the sunrise to the moonsung whores and butterflies injected phantasms and Angelic eyes melting down to the whirlpools and the towers of decay and metal-plasic bohemian longevity. Amen!

Spinning.
Grinning
Cheshire. Slow steps. Advance, stand before. Sands and dunes and mountains of gold. God resides there. Perhaps. Dream dribble dream. Dribble dream dribble dribble dream dribble dribble dream dream dribble dream dribble. I feel so senile and cold. Lights fade out at times. But at times, fresh blood! Gushing through! Fresh…..


The mind is a rain-forest.
There’s another rain-forest somewhere out there.
Hope is divine.

The band has passed through.
Cobwebs in my eyes.
Cold. Lips are blue.
Behold! Everything is true
Shiver.
Fever.
And stoic statues.


Captive. Us. Them.
Illuminated, the Imaginary corners and circles.
hallucinate the Dead
Trapped, damp
So where’s the lamp?


The lion awaits. Fear the lion.
The lion awaits. Tear the lion
The lion.
And at times I feel like this Samsa-giant-creature staring at my roof and not thinking of
anything beyond it, and you.

Wearing the weary smile and this series of masks and pictures and lights and rhapsodies and halos and harmonies that lead us to the death-pale of the silent oceans and turpentine-alleys of the tired streets once the celebration is over and the quaint kind night rolls like a fatal wordless worldless wheel of worship that sinks in the dark and floats in the other dark of our unknown hearts it hurts and lady midnight with flowing robes and rivers of silver and peace-nightlight by the fading lanterns of the fogkissed inn bloated out by the ink of the moon no mother no Sylvia silver gowns garnish days and beaten down till the dawn with drumbeats of they who wish to come and dear Santa Claus saints from roses and passions in the timber eros thanatos timber tinder dragon and there’s yet another dragon locked up in here and out there to weave and sing with the serpent-frog-dance-dance-c ity in hyacinth-delirium. City. Hypnos. Myth. In the beacon of doom as the world rotates round an axis made of eternal dog-barks and pug-marks and skylarks and Noah’s-arks.

Naked
Stark
Wicked
Dark.

Beethoven Beethoven caged in sounds
Found his voice from the rain-damp grounds
The little boy who heard him moan
Became the flower atop a stone
The broken man who heard him sigh
Became the clouds in a midnight sky
The boy, the man and the senile moon
They will fall asleep soon

But Beethoven remains awake
Beethoven is a snake

And lizards are but wizards
Who lost their way in blizzards
And Santa Claus lives in moss
In the world of profit and loss

And the little girl in a chocolate-dress
Fell in love with he who was rambling
But he was holding an Ace
As he was shot while gambling.


Cinderella stares down the lobby. Her feet are cold.
Being sad is her hobby. This story is old

And fairy godmother, she crosses the river
She tells you that she’ll live forever
Well, I think it’s easy to live
All you need is to make believe

The music gets louder
As the white powder
Chants through the mind
Leaving traces behind
By the water from the gates
The Tiger awaits….

Voices become noises when free.

Everything strange and blue in the land and forgetfulness; beggars lying down, gold and dust and life and angelic hymns are always meant to fool to illusions and to play along the tides and double-life for the mirages and miracles of the green green goblin-world to play. Strange lights. Befall. Hues. I see you. Touch. Dead fingertips. Weary tulips.
Release the lilies from the river. Set them free. Forever.
Boat,
Float.

We speak of love and freedom from our turtle-turns
Staring. Hard. Long. Deep. Into the scars from the purple-burns

Music. Infinite. Slow. Streets swarming through with melancholic prophets and puppets and snippets of what-was-once and what will-be and then again, the what-is has her show tonight and she’ll dance and she’ll sing to the seagulls and the make-believe specters of the scepters and the figurines and statues with jewels to shine, shine shine bright in the light from our minds one whole and once, once guilt-washing rains to shower down from the other grey planets as portraits hung down the walls including Dorian Gray stare and admire the loop of our nooses and tomorrow, I go up the flames. Up the chimney. The chimney leads to the desert, and so does the sewer-pipe with bubbles shimmering in moonlight and this longing through postcards with pictures of warriors with roses…

Wild wild child!






Worms. Decay. Organs and orgasms by the oceans. Phantasms.
As skulls leave the void open rust in years in truth in tears and decadent verses striving for memories in the sweet incense of the faraway bridges arching, brooding, twining stresses through the dusk and those storms for a million-year-agonies and offsprings and wild pagan carnivals raging raging throughout. Molten eyes. Molten skin. Senses ablaze. Dead and numb. Speechless holograms. Sexless saxophones. Incarnations in loops. Ascending the altars to rewind the tide. And to remind the pride ....
Decadence…


Angel!

Will you not sing for those in the dark?
Will you not come back into the calm black of our minds?
Will you not come seeking for me in the stars?
Will you not free me from this unvoiced curse?
Will you not take off your robe of silk?
Will you not drink with me the moonlight milk?
Will you not walk with me in solitude?
Will you not drown with me in the holy nude?
Will you not wake up by the distant shore?
Will you not lose yourself in this jungle-lore?

Will you? Won’t you?

Tides….tides….

Windows. Clouds. Pavements.

Anoint the dead.
Stars and scars
The rest shall fade
Like lonely cars….

And the sky is red
But I dread the thread
Some people march in file
Others just stare and smile
By the electric-smoked-glasses of half-vision


Some people await the dawn.
Others tread away into oblivion
Winding through our placenta-symphonies…..

Legions and legions of parables, fable, photographs, heartbeats, soldiers, bayonets, crowns, thorns, kingdoms, statues, pavements and their ballads meander across our cottage door.
And inside,
Fires burn.
Flames leap up.
Dungeons groan
Dragons and stone
Alone.
All alone….
































And thus, these lost fables from this lost city seep their way into the soul of thirsty dead dreams and thirstless dead epics coiled up in the sacrament of eternal sleep…..Eternity.
Pure, Divine and Angelic…..

Of Pomegranates and other Regrets

I couldn’t see
Through the gates
But no one’s free
And no one waits

Wounded eyes
Speak of dreams
Songs arise
From severed limbs

The temple door
Loss and gain
The distant shore
Shines again

My lips are cold
My skies are red
My heart’s of gold
But it is dead

Skeletons moan
All alone
And the telephone
Has nothing to own

Circling through
This strange trapeze
The cactus grew
In holy breeze

I see your eyes
Distant, Greek
With voices, lies
And words to speak

This new skin
In lantern-haze
Folds within
The phantom-gaze

Icy-dusk
Reaching out
Wear the mask
For poisons sprout

Distant bells
They strike me hard
But a ship with sails
Is just a bird


There’s a name
In the wall
So feel the flame
Before you fall

I built this hall,
This funeral song
Where lizards crawl
And long to belong

The king’s behind,
The rook, ahead
The ancient mind
Has lost its thread


The nights are blue
With fog and rust
You are true
And I am dust

Ekta Kangaal-er Galpo

Ekta kangaal ekbar shwapno dekhtey cheyechhilo
Bheeshon bhabey bNachtey cheyechhilo

Taarpor, ekta gobheer jhhorer raatey
shey shob ayenagulo bhengey diye choley gYalo

Noiley aar kangaal kishey?



Punoshcho: Obhimaaner pNachil ta bhengey jetey jetey ekbaar shudhu bolechhilo:
“Amar aar kichchhu chai na. Kichchhuti na."

Elephants Never Forget

It’s my time to walk now
It’s my time to sing
Long shadows falling through
I can’t see anything

The road winds through the skies
The skies shall fall apart
And darkness eats the eyes
As the tree digs its heart


Broken men and broken birds
Bound to the same chain,
They cry out for some love,
For the rain knows no pain

Prisoners and puppets
In the strings of false hope
As the past steals the snippets
And the hangman oils his rope

There’s the dead soldier
He walks in the snow
Once the moon was older
But the blind had to go


As the parrots fly in pairs
With windchimes trapped in sighs
Withered away by cares
And music fills the skies


Every lie seems so true
As flutes lose their song
And I am a pilgrim too
But the night seems so long


My flag up that hill
It flutters in the breeze
And moments stand so still
While ghosts seek the seas

The gambler, he was brave
There’s wine in his flask
He lays there in his grave
And gambles with his mask

There’s a joker who was sad
He had the unknown fever
His tricks were not that bad
But then he became the river

A little girl was lost
She thought her life would end
Until the man of frost
Met her and became her friend


People live here,
Feeding their caged doves
And there’s the soothsayer
Who wears his iron gloves

Death stands by mirrors
Staring down the drains
I fear all my errors
And whatever that remains


Santa Claus lives in flames
He arrived long ago
He stole all our names
Though the horns refused to blow


I was a child of ash
Was raised to be a clown
But then I heard the crash
Of a house tumbling down

Play the music slow
Be gentle with the birds
The Ace is missing though
From your treasured pack of cards

My words have packed their bags
To catch the midnight train
My pain has stolen my rags
She’s dancing in the rain

The edge of the razor blade
Dreams of the feasts
Those farewells I never bade
They point at my wrists


And now it’s my turn to walk
It’s my turn to run
I won’t whisper, I won’t talk
I’m just waiting for the sun