Subrata Ray

Rookie (27.01.1959 / Nator, Rajsahi, Bengladesh)

Time’s Confusing Smoke. By Ray Subrata - Poem by Subrata Ray

Hello friends past, and present,
Good bye, for, the worst is waiting.
We have flattered each other with
Interest of love, praise, and glorification.
We did not see the other side of reality,
The mind’s betrayal for liking and disliking.

Hello friends, -I may say, I loved you less
I could not, for my bodies barriers,
Prevention from habit –born animality,
I confess, the existence of the senses,
And, in life I could not lull them into sleep.

I wish to love your glorious souls,
Your destiny topper manliness,
That does not yield to feed the Time,
But alas! I am undone, rescue me,
From the labyrinths, that you see me in.

Oh! no my comrades, the years are killed,
What need of Time! I wish I were, no more,
The Nature has gone, with my fun, and so,
I would, if you think am, and will be,
But a vain lore, of Time’s confusing smoke.

Jump after jump, against, oddly against,
The flow of daily demands, I got lost somewhere,
The address you may seek, if you ever loved me,
For my two Ies, the little and the big, collapsed in naught.

And then, the frame, is my double dwellings,
A vagabond nothing, and the king of all kings.
The former still takes part in life’s jokes,
The latter is stationed above all pokes.


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Poem Submitted: Saturday, August 21, 2010



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