Treasure Island

Amit Biswas

(6th January,1960. / West Bengal, India)

962: Its pain not poetry


Poet, I was not meant to be,
Pain and despair drove me to,
What I wasn’t ever to be
Desired to own a mirage, which told me,
She wasn’t one, but a real collage.

But her reality eluded her,
She succumbed and turned unreal,
Dumb I stood, my love splattered all around,
But she wasn’t there to help me anymore,
Could not collect myself back, gone was my amour.

Its ok, I accept, hurt I remain, unlikely to heal,
Let forgiveness come soon, before I can forget.,
Me, my memory and my grace of forgiveness,
Are in a race, I wish I won.

Submitted: Monday, September 11, 2006
Edited: Monday, September 06, 2010

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Comments about this poem (962: Its pain not poetry by Amit Biswas )

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  • Chandan Roy (3/13/2007 12:48:00 PM)

    Yes, Amit! We all will win this race.... Pain v/s Poetry...... Poetry always wins! (Report) Reply

  • Joseph Daly (9/11/2006 6:38:00 AM)

    From the title I was expecting some sort of 'pity-me' narrative. Instead I find a narrative flowing with some moving - sometimes, touching- imagery. This is a beautiful piece and is structured very well. (Report) Reply

  • Tranquil Ocean (9/11/2006 4:42:00 AM)

    Maybe you were meant to be a great poet and it was destiny...
    The best poetry comes out either when you are at the pinnacle of love or at the nadir.
    Good one
    TO (Report) Reply

  • K Fernandes (9/11/2006 2:22:00 AM)

    Again i am at a loss for apt words....

    cry not your heart out
    she is forever gone
    blown by winds of change
    far out of your reach forever

    your heart is broken n bleeding
    your soul stolen and scattered
    but...
    your mind and intellect
    your spirit
    and your body albeit dust
    still remains...

    what can you do?
    but continue to breathe
    though each breath hurts your chest
    till dust turns to dust
    and perhaps you are gifted release? (Report) Reply

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