Poetry Of My Life Poem by Prabir Gayen
Poetry Of My Life
Poetry of My Life
My poem is my secondary life,
The image of The Moon in the ocean,
In the Stormy Night and full tide,
My life is a peripheral song of Pain.
My life an alternate way of imitation,
A silent watchful waste of days and Nights,
A walking of morning in the lazy noon,
The smiling of a man carrying dead body.
With the subsiding waves of dream,
The wistful wish of invention and be,
The small waves of aim to be abrupt,
The watchfulness with Simulacrum of joy,
Gone into nothingness.
Like tattered leaf saved from its root,
The nurturing source of life - giving juice,
My life became dead with no direction,
It falls and will fall eternally
without choice.
A Small yet deep chain of breath
could save me,
Could save from eternal pain of damnation,
A small path of cloud from April Shower,
A small dream without past could give
me peaceful death.
In search of path the path is lost,
On the route to peace Mind is doomed,
Peace became eternal dungeon of torture,
A hanging soul between heaven and Hell.
The deep desire to live gave me wound,
The wound of eternal inferno and Hell-fire,
Life is a bed of thorn with no sweet Tone,
All tones went vain like piping dead bodies.
With the loss of Time the garden became Grave,
The Church or Synagogue became churchyard with
no lively prayer,
Desires being hurt dropped into
the cave of naught,
Like beheaded being I walk on road
that leads nowhere.
Years ago a violent Storm Uprooted my Being,
With Many efforts and therapies the tree
remains Unchanged,
Tree of life is dead and no nourishment
can give it life,
Only it is as fuel to others having
no life for itself.
*************************
@Prabir Gayen - 16/03/2019 - 9: 38 AM.
Thinking of your endless messages on my desk and then having read the FIRST stanza only of this latest poem from your constant diligent, hurrying pen, day and night, A.M. and O.M. till over nightime, Oh dear God, this is here not a stalking poet, but one who needs pschycological help and it has not given effect nor better result, I must admit I am overwhelmed and become very sad..................................Please read (2)
There is a tinge of sadness and negativity in the poem but the wordplay and flow are amazing. 'Like tattered leaf saved from its root, The nurturing source of life - giving juice, My life became dead with no direction, It falls and will fall eternally without choice.'... is very nicely crafted. Thanks for sharing.
With the subsiding waves of dream, The wistful wish of invention and be, The small waves of aim to be abrupt, The watchfulness with Simulacrum of joy, Gone into nothingness
In search of path the path is lost, On the route to peace Mind is doomed, Peace became eternal dungeon of torture, A hanging soul between heaven and
Like tattered leaf saved from its root, The nurturing source of life - giving juice, My life became dead with no direction, It falls and will fall eternally without choice.
there is nothing left 4 ME to comment love alone can love cement PG All sympathize with thee
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/29/2024 6:36:33 PM # 1.0.0.1119
My life is a peripheral song of Pain........you have unfolded the heart song of a genuine poet! An excellent piece of work! Loved reading it......10
Very thanks dear master poet....., ....../////