Saturday, October 14, 2017

A rose has died

A rose has died in the garden
I shall bury it now
For it now remained a burden
Not to be given thou.
"I want to live," it might have screamed,
See the sun shine, it might have dreamed.
I want to live
I want to live
All filled with love, it might have brimmed.

©Chandrajit Mitra

P.S. The form of poetry employed is known as "Trijan Refrain" which is a nine-line poetry form with the syllable count 8-6-8-6-8-8-4-4-8 and the rhythm pattern A.B.A.B.C.C.D.D.C. The first four syllables of the fifth line are repeated as double refrain in lines seven and eight.

Friday, October 13, 2017

You stand like a mirage at far

You stand like a mirage at far
All around whom I seek,
You enchant like a distant star
And quiet, gentle and meek.
I go wander in search of you
To find, to love for days, a few,
I go wander
I go wander
But in vain, in disdain, I knew.

©Chandrajit Mitra

P.S. The form of poetry employed is known as "Trijan Refrain" which is a nine-line poetry form with the syllable count 8-6-8-6-8-8-4-4-8 and the rhythm pattern A.B.A.B.C.C.D.D.C. The first four syllables of the fifth line are repeated as double refrain in lines seven and eight.

Monday, October 2, 2017

How often

How often do you dig old letters
Smell the age old cologne
Drink the dead cold coffee
And remind how certain bruises
Are not meant to heal?
The sun rises and sets,
The calendar loses its worth
day by day.
You sit beside the albums
And turn your world upside down.
The smoke from the chimneys
Engulf your thoughts, the fire
Burn your soul, the mild wind
Blows the ashes away.
How often do you try playing
The same old country tune,
Choose the same chords along,
Sing the rhythmless song?

©Chandrajit Mitra

Saturday, September 30, 2017

I will write about you

I will write about you
When the moon sings
A lullaby for the new born.
I will write about you
When the scorching sun
Makes the soil beg for rain.
I will write about you
When the clouds shed
A dark shade upon the land.
I will write about you
When the river overflows
And washes away all we had.
I will write about you
When the tremors deep down
Bring to surface tall minars.

©Chandrajit Mitra

Sunday, September 10, 2017

Confession 12 (The moon laments)

The moon laments and questions her absence
Sheds a tear and write a poetry about,
I sit looking through my window pane
How the clouds pass by, the days along.

The busy office hours and the crowded rails
The hustle bustle of the noisy city streets,
I search across the pool of men and women
And I hear you singing a jazz for me.

©Chandrajit Mitra

All that you are

If you were a poem,
I'd add some strings
And play you through the night
Till the camp fire goes off.
If you were a song,
I'd add some steps
And dance till my legs ache
Until the song goes off.
But you are merely a few lines
With no song to hum, no step to match,
I could only write you
On the last pages of my notebook.

©Chandrajit Mitra

Monday, September 4, 2017

Come to me

Come to me on this moonless night
Like the sun does in the morning
Every one I count in a year.
Come to me when the war is over
And thrones settled, crowns worn
And the fields bloodsoaked.
Come to me when the songbird rests
And there's no music to lend my ears.
Come to me when there's nothing left!

 ©Chandrajit Mitra

Tuesday, July 25, 2017

Promises

For days we stayed
And promises we made,
What remains when even
Ashes despise fire?
The starry nights, that
Witnessed us play fools,
Smirk and let a sigh,
The curtains call!

©Chandrajit Mitra

Wednesday, March 22, 2017

Confession 11 (More)

Had I been more
My woman of dreams,
More than a mountain
You have had scaled.
Had I been more
Than a hundred seas
And a hundred bays
You have had sailed.
Had i been more
Than the endless skies
With barriers none
You have had flew.
Had I been more-
Just more of me,
And more of you, more
Than thee ever knew.

©Chandrajit Mitra

Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Do remember dear

Do remember dear
In drops of your tear
My name.
For I may not stay
For another day
The same.
Though back I must come
For the songs to hum
I claim.

©Chandrajit Mitra

Sunday, January 15, 2017

Confession 10 (The Sad Poetry)

No more, I said, no more
Can I write verses for you!

Rhythm abandoned me
And my fingers don't dance
On white piano keys anymore.

No more can I write
A quatrain, describing
How we walked through the dirt
Of busy city streets.

Neither do I want to write
About you, not any more;
The night has consumed
All my thoughts,
My eyes see nothing,
But you!

At a distance, I see
Offices shut down
And people get back
To their houses.
I wonder if one
Goes back only to
Write about whom
They get back to.

May be once more I'll write
About why I won't write
About you!

Till then, let the night consume me
My darkest and saddest thoughts
And leave me with nothing
To write about you.

©Chandrajit Mitra