Look at the sky It’s rather black in October— a ruse that it’s about to rain when it’s only threatening not intending to do any harm or good whatsoever.
Look at the sky keep watching tarry a little, until your eyes get rid of the opulence of wanton lights; you will notice tiny stars blinking like faint candles prodding you to believe that there is a God forging for you a diadem; that there is love as white as snow; and a hope that you would still be breathing yet another day: tomorrow.
Diptesh Augustine Sarkar lives in Serampore, West Bengal and teaches English. His works feature in The Enchanting Echoes 2014 published by The Poetry Society India. An avid reader, Sarkar writes Poetry and Short stories revolving chiefly around the subaltern middle class against urban cityscape. With a novel awaiting publication and another in the making, Sarkar shuffles between the guitar, the piano, and the pen.
Like a stingray it stung me tonight the new moon. A live flame lobbing the sparks. The seduction had bypassed the sleezy love of white egrets. When are you going to make a history by failing to fall? Can I
Sailing in thr ocean of thought, I was left with naught. Sun in water was sinking, My eyes sparkled without blinking. I was in the ocean’s core, Miles away from the shore. A wave flowed me away, With them a
As the sun dives into the beguiling sky And the darkness is about to smear the vault of heaven. The mind, then wanders the lonesome places. The moment , when the mollified region is filled with despondency. The night, then
As the day slips behind the cliffs On the far-off horizon Taking along its glorious lamp And all the warm sunshine The earth looks down wearied All hustle and bustle comes to close The world enveloped in darkness Retires to