Sunk in the deep blue ocean,
Drinking the wavy words ,
The thinking weaver
Purls the strings of sentiments.
A merchant of mankind,
Emasculating the sturdy
Train of emotions,
To make them stoop down
To Reach the ground-
He knows to make them wallow in green-
He knows to denude the raw and arid skin
By melting the wax within .
A poet, a poet he is-
A dweller of a no man’s land –
Where there lies the shadow line between
Real and unreal-
Yes ,he is a poet-
Who sails on the sea of words.
Tinkling letters on sand
And the scattered gravels heaped upon
collects them all .
He ” a pygmalion”
Into a secluded hamlet atop a hill-
Into a primeval jungle –
Teemed with cannibals feasting on the Banks of a wild brook –
Into the sea of characters-
A lonely wife, a damsel in danger-
A wayfarer, a bard of paradise-
Here here he is-
Look at him !
Again he is drowning !
No he knows not how to survive-
No ,he knows not how to swim-
Nor does he want to dwell
In the world of swooned sanctity,
In the monotony of mortality-
Where every thing is Gimmick, Gimmick and Gimmick!
He is drowning.
He is drinking “life to the lees”-
Yes, a Poet he is
Who seeks solace and peace? –Labanya Das
To The Star I love
Whatif I have never met you-
Whatif I have never inhaled your breath
Whatif I have never seen your tale-tell-eyes
Whatif I have never played the lyre with your nails
Whatif you have never peeped into my clandestine caverns
Your heart has built a hut in my left terrain
Where your eyes and mine look at the sky
Where your eyes and mine breathe in the incense of the sun
Where I feel the warmth of the melted ice
I can feel your smoke
Though our skinned-coats have never exchanged the vows of love
Only the hearts play the tune
“You will be in my heart in silence”
When the Seven seas,
The different and divergent skies
The ice and the fire
My dry lips will await drinking your celestial ambrosia.