PIKU CHOWDHURY
Brooding Skies
What can you give at twilight hours
When the dimming eyes seek support
Will you turn nights into rivers
With lighted oil lamps afloat
Or will it be a patient sojourn
Beside the telephone in the wizened hour
Waiting for a sign of dawn in lonely
moments
Of fear, smelly whitened hair and boring
bottles of medication.
Will blood connect or severe ties
The question hangs in brooding skies.
Our Days
While the day is still dew
The vapours gather in a slice of fear
Cut out of a tremendous mass
Of perplexities and sinister hopes
That brew and swirl in magnificence.
Meanwhile the cities evolve
With tentacles reaching out to stars
Fiery machines and red mushrooms
Juxtaposed in beauteous scars.
Dewy lustre and wondrous scar
Our daily prayers for forgiving grace.
Bubbles
Bubbles in sparkling wine in glass
Each a potency of emancipation,
Quivering on borderline
Of finite form and formlessness.
Effervescent moments in time
In sleepy slanting rays on sill
Wavering between wistfulness
And desire for willful oblivion.
Between the bubbly moments that burst
Forever dies a thousand deaths.
PIKU CHOWDHURY
Dr.PIKU
CHOWDHURY teaches in a post graduate Govt. aided college and is an Editor,
Author, painter, translator, singer, poet, photographer, mental health
facilitator. She serves as a Research guide and Resource Person in various
teacher education and mental health programs.
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