Debasish Mishra

Debasish Mishra Poems

Clear like sunshine,
Sweet like nectar;
One who gets the mother's love
Is, in fact, a true victor.

They say I am a poet
Endowed with the wealth of words.
I smile gently
Hiding those things that are inherent in me....

I never knew the reason -
The actual reason -
For the sudden twist of things...
My love was true, my heart was pure,


So pleasant these are...............
Like dew drops,
Beautiful like the rainbow,
Or a rapturous rose playing with the breeze

Don't allow that precious dropp to cling in your cheeks,
It lessens your beauty, I swear,
You look so beautiful
With that inexpensive ornament of a smile...

I have built a Taj Mahal
In my heart
Simply for her
And another one

In the midnight
An irate dog barks fervently
At the innocuous watchman
Weakened by the growth of age.

In a corner of the shining city......
Sleeps the slums like ultimate curses...
Fragile bodies- bare and black
Distorted by the doctrines of Fate,

It absorbs everything...
In its limitless bosom.
Temples and tombs,
Man-made barriers...

The brevity of happiness,
The short span of smiles...
All good things in the world are transitory
Like Life itself! ! !

A little insect
That creeps and crawls desperately...
Misled by mirages,
Overwhelmed by transitory happiness,

I do not know who she is
Whose faint footprints in dreams I see;
But I feel her fragnance in every breeze
That moves around and kisses me....

When tears true trickle down,
The house resembles a conquered town;
Despite the dazzle, the festive air...
Prepared for the farewell of the lady fair.

Half-an-inch away from death..
Lies d sloppy road of life
Thin like thread, oft, brief as a breath
Yet mysterious like d smile of a wife...

(Dedicated to Mother India & the martyrs of d Freedom struggle)
I owe to U, O Legends,
Each dropp of blood in me..
Each breath, my soul, my heart-

Donot look for me in the lanes of happiness...
Because I have rented a room in the slums of loneliness;
Where I hear my own stories
& share myself- my woes & worries.

If you ask me
Why do I indulge in poetry?
Why do I spend endless hours
In search of apt words

Have you ever ruined
Somebody's hardwork?
I have, rather unintensionally,
Ended someone's efforts & expectations.

My tears fall on the body of the paper
And themselves write woeful poems.
I only decipher them.
So praise me not for what I write

If you ever step into this dark chamber of mine,
You will discover
Relics of that relished love.
Your letters, your gifts, wilted-unsmelling-roses

The Best Poem Of Debasish Mishra

In Praise Of My Mother...

Clear like sunshine,
Sweet like nectar;
One who gets the mother's love
Is, in fact, a true victor.

Its mystic yet unmisted
Pristine yet pure;
There is none to deny this,
I resolutely assure.

Her tears flow
For my slightest pain;
As if she were a fool
Or insane.

She starves for me
And feeds me well;
Gives heaven to me
And accepts hell.

For giving me breathes
And all necessary stuff,
Even sacrificing myself
Wont be enough...

The showers of her love
Bring joy in my way,
This unselfishness
I can never repay...

I can never repay,
This I assure;
For her love is Godly,
Pristine and pure.

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