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Best Poems Written by Plabi Pradhan

Below are the all-time best Plabi Pradhan poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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She Will Rise

Those sleepless nights,
those black spots under her eyes.
Those uncombed hairs
those inner fights!
She is building on her own,
and trust me, removing each black cloud 
she will rise.

She will rise 
and they will stay stagnant by their filthy thoughts
that they tried to pour upon her
but she never cared.
Trust me, they will crave and she will not be melted by the lies.
They will crave for her
but like the Sun she will rise.

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Writer-Lover

If words inscribed by me can make him agonize, 
I'll let him feel. 
For I can't hurt him the way he does.
If he refuses to confine by my love,
I will not try to bewilder him by my mortal beauty,
rather let him be confined by my verse.
If still, he doesn't reciprocate,
then he is not the connoisseur 
I have sought to converse.

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Destiny

They are coexisting
like the earth and the far sky,
split by horizon.

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Waiting Endless

Now that you are gone,
I'm here all alone.
Nothing to lose more,
except for my memory, full of you, which I still adore.

Now that you are gone,
lingering here all alone.
For who have nothing to lose, no one to embrace,
have 'waiting' endless.

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I Still Love You

Between life and death 
our love is dwelling.
Sometimes I am touching the horizon,
sometimes he is too.
Who has said his beats stopped at the ICU?
I'm still feeling that it is rhyming in my heart
and coming out as poetry.

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Knowledge

When the light goes out,
I light up the light of knowledge
and I stand out as a stubborn, stout.
For darkness is nothing but the ignorance,
and if you know how to wipe it up,
then you are the king and yours is the dominance.

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Emptiness

It's not about the date of your death,
your emptiness is all around.
Life is going on its flow,
but the heart is not rhythmic with the same old sound.
When a string breaks, 
though others can play sound,
but it's no longer the same,
the old tunes are never be found.
It's not about the date of your death,
dear, your emptiness is all around.

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Undesires

I sit by the moon
and exhale all my zeal
of wanting you one more time
but the pain I don't want to feel
again and again over your imprudence
of not comprehending my love
and slaying my feelings while playing innocence.










#monostich

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Clinical Death

You do not care and now I can't feel.
How unlike the situation between us,
we both have changed but we do not reveal.
Under social esteem, we both are dealing
with no emotions left perhaps and less appealing.
How unknown we have become
but we hardly reveal.
Perhaps that's how emotions breathe their last breath!
Born by the adrenaline finally into the hands of psychiatrists a clinical death.
Now medicine calms my nerves and brain cells,
but these used to be calmed by long-distance kisses and your essence.
Once the vows we had taken for eternity
are now the prisoner of maturity.
We have become the perfect social component:
that we like each other on social sites 
but the conversation never starts again!
Now medicines give me that relief
that I used to get from long conversations and fell asleep.
But you had to die a premature death
as you were becoming heavy in my mind and I couldn't breathe.
Therefore I buried you alive in the core of my heart,
but my feelings were not fallen apart.
At last, my emotions breathe their last breath
in the hands of psychiatrists, a clinical death.

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Unrequited

Am I that much impenetrable,
or does he deliberately refuse to describe?
Why do I have heard all that he never said,
but he fails to realise what I have inscribed?