Ajit Das


Ajit Das Poems

1. Tiny Body, Global Outcry 10/11/2015
2. Identity 10/11/2015
3. A Loner 10/11/2015
4. Humble Salutation 10/11/2015
5. The Three Sisters 10/11/2015
6. Ode To Alan Henning 10/11/2015
7. Reality And Fantasy 10/11/2015
8. Cherry Trifle 10/11/2015
9. Adieu 10/11/2015
10. Icu 10/11/2015
11. A Horse's Sunset 10/11/2015
12. That's It 10/11/2015
13. A Boozer's Joy 10/11/2015
14. Lone Furrow 10/11/2015
15. Humane Face 10/11/2015
16. Black Beauty 10/11/2015
17. Anti-Corruption Day 10/12/2015
18. Bonded Silence 10/12/2015
19. Laughter 10/12/2015
20. Evening 10/12/2015
21. Not Everything Lost 10/15/2015
22. Romance 10/15/2015
23. Resilience 10/17/2015
24. Theatre Of Mind 10/17/2015
25. Living 10/19/2015
26. Saga Of Mankind 10/25/2015
27. Living Longer 10/27/2015
28. Ode To The Moon 10/28/2015
29. The Boulevard 10/29/2015
30. Species Of God 10/29/2015
31. A Portrait 10/31/2015
32. Winter 11/1/2015
33. A Rickshaw Puller 11/4/2015
34. Ingenuity 11/5/2015
35. End Of Solitude 11/8/2015
36. The Flickering Lamp 11/9/2015
37. Redemption 11/10/2015
38. On The Theme Of Children By Khalil Gibran 11/14/2015
39. Brief Stay 11/16/2015
40. Climate Change: A Mirage? 11/18/2015

Comments about Ajit Das

  • Md. Anisur Rahman Md. Anisur Rahman (5/5/2016 1:47:00 AM)

    Hi,
    I liked your poems.You are a great poet.

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Best Poem of Ajit Das

Horizon

When the sky is azure blue,
the horizon draws a line
between heaven and earth.

On a misty day it gets blurred,
closing the distance, limiting
your vision: seen and unseen.

When clouds gather, erasing
the skyline, darkness descends,
enveloping the surroundings.

And, then, clouds disappear,
the dark lifts, mist clears,
the view is sunlit, unimpeded.

The curve of earth beckons.
You try to outstrip; it recedes,
alluring yet with new horizons.

Read the full of Horizon

A Loner

A chair with a desk, a divan and a bed in the room -
I spend most of my time sitting or relaxing on them.
Early sun throws patterns on the wall, then draws out;
a gloomy shade fills the space, hangs on till weak rays
lazing on the decor disappear in the evening mist.

In between I sit on the balcony, looking at the traffic,
its ebb and flow on the street, listening to a bird
chirping from the tree on the lawn, a lone reminder

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