Pradip Chattopadhyay Poems

Each morn
awakening's first breath
recreates the myth
today would be born
...

A time was when
Nothing short of my deepest thrust
Once and then many times more
Would satiate me
...

I was surprised it felt heavier
Uneasiness too pinched me
Haven’t carried a weightier ever
What could fill a family!
...

Is his work sweet or bitter
Door to door goes meter reader
Is he dull or clever witty
The measurer of used electricity.
...

As the sun pierces the winter haze
She finds blooming marigold all around her
Her eyes though on the newspaper’s page
Her mind drifts elsewhere.
...

Flow enough tears
but all these years
I burn them in fire.
...

The golden potato beamed at him in the sun
When he had almost stopped his quest for this one
The others in the pile smeared his hand with red earth
But it as if for his eyes lay hidden apart.
...

As he so thinly and lightly floated up
He saw a bloody mess crowded around.

He understood and not bothering his weightlessness
...

In my most perilous times
I go by the devil’s book.

Burying conscience its tender rhymes
...

Your paths shouldn’t lead astray

Heard it since childhood day
Heard it along all the way
...