Epic Zone

Morning came and dreams walked out,
A savage life was knocking my door
With harsh iron hands holding an unpalatable casket
Loading grey flowers of troubles having colorful multitudes
Immaterial my blinking desire, my aversion and perturb
It ran in to trouble hours of heart’s diction
Occupying several spheres of thoughtful hours
Weaving a curtain of pensive epic of needs, sorrows, whimper of destitution.
I stared at its despaired looks, our uneven parley,
A hapless human with nervous ears
Flood gate opened to let out the air of miseries.
Oh my wishful paradise, my unseasoned bonhomie,
My erratic romance, my premature fantasy.
All ruptured, all shrank,
Inundating goals, my sinking boat,
Stammering hopes, dreams bloat.

In the midway of my life survey
It is my faithful realization
That the roots of all senseless adjudications
Owe all to our prosaic passion.
Meandering faces in name of modern age
Recite too much insipid cantos.
Enveloping darkness circling our cheap existence
Perishing insufficient halo whatever remain
Whatever gathered, whatever inherited.
Drowning hearts mutate greed and hunger
Pushing aside us for eternal slumber,
Our dreamless task for serving fiend
Our rootless visitation for more living.
Languishing sculptures of ATHENA and DIANA
Over desolate field of ageless grim,
A presage of coarseness and of woods,
Letting never the musical verse to flow
Never letting it to strain the tune of nerves
In Apollo’s lyre.

We are the summer, we are the rain,
We are the autumn, the spring and winter,
We are heaven or hell.
We are peacocks, we are hen,
We are dull goats, we are snakes.
We are brooks, we are deserts,
We are mountains, we are mounds.
We are butterflies, we are porcupines,
We are grasshoppers, we are glow worms.
We are flowers, we are thorns,
We are seeds, we are leaves.
We are hedge, we are woods,
We are grass, we are fruits.
We are sleeps, we are wakings,
We are dreams, we are brooding.
We are angel, we are devil,
We are divine, we are profane.

Twenty first century is looking goat,
Grazing enlightened and being famed
With oversize pendulising beard
Radiating all stupidities, of all vaunting selfishness.
The essence of modernism with all technical marvel
Is doing easy our sorrowful existence.
muggle our thoughts and soft thinkings,
Tuning our precious being in to ever toiling cadence.
Behold the vast Earthen zone and behold
Our numerous massive souls with drooping heads, with dull eyes
that Are feeding their self satiety with blundering grasses.
The field is large, not provided with any shade
Summer sun ruthless of narrow gains and shabby hens
Are their scurvy companies.
But they will graze, they will for obviate end
Until be fodder meat of real course of existence.
Dreadful is the cherubim chamber, dreadful is Lucifer’s night,
Swarming evils engulfing the azure noble.
Timepiece of reverse marching, heinous of hearts
Mindless decapitation of tendering genuine beloved.
We are tumbling, of course we are,
Incendearing is rampant, sabotage abounds.
Pilgrimage of cannibilism and ignorance
Are undertaken, obliqueness of dark.
No more we can hide our hideous skeletonic self,
No more, because deceptive flesh of ungratefulness
Is melting with first pace, evils are exposed.
Wealth is the whistling blow of all sordid games,
Loves, an Achilles hills
Swept and lost in flooding rill of common crest.

I wish to see a crane with high looking
May arise its conscious voice, a voice gold,
Philosophising even a simple annal of daily business……
Call back the simplicity of merry simpleton
Crowding the Earth’s insufficient pothole
Suffocating the tiny passage of brooding air.
Low contemplation serves earthly needs
Dwarf dreams, dwarf looking, dwarf heroics
Have scant penetrating on mystic kaleidoscope.
Hardly we have zeal or courage to rummage
What is beyond the gospel of our daily living
How deep are we, how much fathomable?
Our family vineyard lead us to nowhere
Save the offering of plenty sour grapes.
Legion of masses around the universe
With no means or little or of heavy farthings
Rush all the same, all the same
With dire need, with undying greed.
We are parachuting for downward lanes since 70s
Downing we are for gainless targets, for starchless millets.
Perhaps this Earth, this universe is turning like CARTHAGE
A burning civilization, gutting conscience.

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Shuvo Chakraborty

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lecturer and advocate in university and incometax tribunal. an english poet and diehard follower of john keats
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