Pradip Chattopadhyay

(28.01.1961 / Kolkata)


Thoughts don't keep tormenting my head
I have a job to do to earn my bread
I have hours of dipping my hands in the muck
juggle with the assigns that simply suck!

Poems don't come streaming in my head
let me not lose bread in your mesmeric thread
I have hours of pouring over dead files
wade in the mire in painted smiles!

Dreams don't perch on my stooped eyelids
let me take care of my earthly needs
I have hours of works to pay for the meals
stuck in a rut that slowly kills!

Wishes don't freely on my heart land
let it not be lost in your quicksand
I have hours to cope with the burning
walk the fire on your singed wings!

Submitted: Friday, May 16, 2014
Edited: Friday, May 16, 2014

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Comments about this poem (Quicksand by Pradip Chattopadhyay )

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  • Valsa George (5/17/2014 7:00:00 AM)

    Inspite of all your official assignments, poems flow from your head! Even when you labour for your bread, you are bound by poem's mesmeric thread....! Keep it up! (Report) Reply

  • Lyn Paul (5/16/2014 7:10:00 AM)

    Really feel your words Pradip, such a great write. Would be superb lyrics for a song (Report) Reply

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