Words Are Out!

Tonight at Dversepoetes Meeting the Bar, Victoria wants us to write about singular verbs and verb derivatives. Here is my entry. Not the best I could have managed, but this is where I am. Hope you like it.


History turns pages
Maps change
Gunpowder claims lives,
Wounds transpire to tears,
Tears transpire to vengeance
History repeats itself.

We explore
We study, we probe
We interpret
We judge,
We creep up the ladder
We feed on profit.

We lash out protests
We usher generations
We make rules,
Play with numbers
We quantify happiness,
As if we can.

We approve, we reject
We clutter, we flatter
Grin, wink
We take masks of some faces,
Put one on some others.

We entangle truth
Yes, we do that
We preach words
We eat words,
Words motivate
Words mislead
We believe words have power
We play with words.

Love me, not

small banner

Don’t like black as a colour
On the canvas,
Can you not be mornings?
Or, any other colour?
Orange, yellow, green –

Smoke follows a pattern
Slithers from light to darkness,
Nocturnal, trapped
As you quite are,
Must know that by now.

Don’t sulk, don’t run away
You aren’t losing
Or, winning either-
A lonely, day person as you may be,
But there is no race after all,
Are your judgements clouded?

Lips entwine, wet each other
Churn your stimulus, yes-
Clandestine lovers as you like to believe,
Worries don’t really fade,
You take another step towards oblivion.

To the end, very end – a life in ashes
Waits for us all,
You need to decide,
If you wish to treasure
The walk home to your children,
Or grave.

Think again, think again
Every moment has a word
But frustration,
You just have to find it.

Love me,not

Love me,not

A bit of social thought tonight. I am linking this poem to dversepoets, open link night – week 128. Please join to read some wonderful poetry from contemporary writers all over the world.

Photo Credits: Reetam Banerjee

Hush! Peeling the layers

Dear reader, bit of a background is needed on this one. I am writing this poem for dversepoets Meeting the bar this week. It’s my second entry to yesterday’s theme – since there are so many options. The original idea was floated here by Victoria where she wants us to write about politics,  sexuality or religion – a wide range of difficult subjects. My poetic license allows me delve into folds of the very basic of human character for an introspect. Hope you like my poem. Join dversepoets and read some of the finest poetry across the world.



# 1

An ounce of evil,
A wee bit of shade
Flair for immorality
Lives under the same skin,
Masked under
Fine dress and
Measured words-
Making rules
In their own kingdom
Small or big,
Feel it,
Aghast at it
See the faint smile
Once you face the mirror
Don’t say a word,
Believe it or not
You have layers
Like onion.


The swirl of her hair,
An occasional glance
Peeping eyelashes
Redness of lips,
In a lascivious form
She’s sublime sensuality walking by,
Don’t gape at those lips
Like they are yours,
Don’t steal moments
Like you are ashamed,
Don’t flush.

It’s not nearly as bad-
Every moment
You repress,
Mind opens door
To the surge of hormones,
Your body needs.

The occasional smile
That escaped
Your lips,
Is truly
Chemicals playing the mind.


‘Bow before the lord ‘
‘Don’t ask’
‘What if I am not ready?’
‘Then keep doing till you are’

Growing up
Blinded by
You were told was truth
Till you were to see for yourself,
A few things tarnished –
Impaired you to see
There was more
In the hungry child
Than the piece of stone
So ornately worn
Around your neck,
And you kissed
It to hope
In your deepest and darkest hours.

Hush! Don’t say it’s is an obsession
There are answers to your questions,
They all lay around you
Abundant ,
Pretty much.


Don’t hush
There is more politics in your demeanour,
More contentment than stigma in falling prey to lust,
More religion beyond your faith,
Than you’d like to believe-

Live wide open in the daylight with your shades
Everyone has layers.

There I handled all the aspects, I would otherwise find difficult to write or talk about. When I started, I didn’t know that I lived with all of them. Let me know what you think about it.

O Mother!


Forefathers curved the road once-
I’m told and
Traditions walked,
From dancing figures
To established
Orthographic depths,
Of late.

It is a rough patch,
Paved with good intentions and
Interlude of freedom;
First a Guru, then a friend
finally a child-
Trivial or not,
Promising all the same.

Gave a name my mute emotions
Despair, love or
Concoction of
How all the hormones
Played my mind,
An ubuntu,
No less than we like to believe.

I keep my head high
I could have been lost
Unless those marks showed me the way,
Stained with my brother’s blood
I don’t regret, but
Wear the wounds proudly on my chest.

The road is calling me-
O Mother!
May be back to your womb, again
To a promise, unspoken;
The road, is not the end of the road.

Writing something unique about me and my language of home – tonight’s theme on dversepoets poetics. Here are some facts on my mother tongue – Bengali, to whom I dedicate this ode.

  • International Mother Language Day is an observance held annually on 21 February worldwide to promote awareness of linguistic and cultural diversity and multilingualism. It was first announced by UNESCO on 17 November 1999. On 21 February 1952, protesting students and activists were fired upon by military and police in the University of Dhaka and three young students and several other people were killed. In a separate event on 19 May 1961, police in Barak Valley in Assam killed eleven people who were demonstrating against legislation that mandated the use of the Assamese language.
  • Bengali presents a strong case of diglossia, with the literary and standard form differing greatly from the colloquial speech of the regions that identify with the language. Regional variation in spoken Bengali constitutes a dialect continuum.
  • The Bengali script is believed to have evolved from a modified Brahmic script around 1000 CE (or 10th – 11th century). Bengali has as many as 100,000 separate words, of which 50,000 are direct reborrowings from Sanskrit, 21,100 are native words with Sanskrit cognates, and the rest being foreign borrowings and Austroasiatic borrowings.

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Oh! my Alice~

You think I am too small?
Not old enough to crawl
Towards the rabbit hole,
Of unforeseen creatures;
A premonition of disaster
You have, don’t you?

Scared, as you may be
I am not,
I am yet to see the world,
A world is calling me
At the end of a tunnel,
Not long, not far away-
I can hear a humming all the time.

There goes a rabbit, it talks
It talks as like you,
Keeps a pocket watch;
Oh! That cat on the wall
The doves, the squirrel, the robin
They are all conspiring something in the backyard,
Why don’t you let me go?

You think Alice was braver?
Well – I am braver by far,
You think I am too small?
It’s only a matter of time
To get a bite of the magic cake,
And I will be a big girl, in a blink
Will you let me find my wonderland, daddy?

I am writing this poem for dverserpoets club on poetics. Today we have a wonderful theme – either write about pre-Christmas Advent or Alice in wonderland. Ever since I became a father of a beautiful daughter last year, I have been thinking that she is no less an adventure lover. So here goes my entry on poetics, thinking about what she has to say to me everyday. Hope you like it. Do participate on poetics and read some wonderful poetry. Now here is a photo of my inspiration, Rupu – who completed one year and a month yesterday.
Her first stand


Often in conflict
We earthlings are,
Ever since Attila
With Genghis, Hitler or Laden
Took to different names like
Battle, genocide, massacre, world wars, atom bombs or Jihad;
Acts plummeted to
A ghastly macabre tale
Of little or no interest;
Irony that
Ink and papyrus were also invented
Alongside the first weapon we had.

I am writing this 55 word poem for dversepoets form for all. Do participate to read some wonderful poetry.