Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Best Ashok Niyogi Poems

Below are the all-time best Ashok Niyogi poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

View ALL Ashok Niyogi Poems

Details | Ashok Niyogi Poem


Disenchanted with ennui,
I want to my earth
To meet the sky,
To catch a falling star
Outside a ‘Monday thru Friday’
‘Nine to Five’ job,
But traffic on the eight eighty
Enshackles me in the tapestries of my mind.

Amnesia walks me through corridors of lice
Armed with coffee cups, the stock market on the radio,
I have lost all with my nasdaq fall
Into bars and brothels of dubious repute,
All is carnal after all.

Entrapment with Chopin on the alarm clock,
Donuts oozing with cream, wiped away with a napkin,
How do I get away from Tchaikovsky at night?
As the older whores at last snore,
I light a cigarette and lean out my window
To wail a poem, catch a falling star. 

Details | Ashok Niyogi Poem


this baby pine
had two young branches 
growing entwined
I untwined the branches
set them free
now each will find 
his own sun

Details | Ashok Niyogi Poem


Life, in the cruelty of morning light,
Is a strand of copper blond hair
With auburn roots, asleep on a pillow.

Are you waiting for the snail mail
To bring you the implant
That will explode in your head?

Or will you dedicate your life
To multiplication of garbage that oozed
Into ancestral rivers, lakes and skies?
Will you let blood bubble on the Tigris
Or become a collector of limbs in Grozny,
While I inaugurate a thousand Darfurs?
Will we terrorize freedom in freedom’s name?

Goliath, let us fortify, let us amend, 
Or one day David will pelt us with a catapult,
Blood will copiously flow
From our forehead into our eyes,
We will be blinded, unless we already are.

Deep cleansing milk has to be sold by the gallon,
And, of course, Listerine.

Details | Ashok Niyogi Poem



to remain sane
to help evolve

hare- brained
and who says
the hare has an inferior brain

for the snow
that fell on trees we did not know
idols march
while we watch
people tie laces

she had braces
I gave her vanilla
while stars exploded
into brazen quilts

I touched them
with my malignant wand
and now the chrysanthemums wilt
in the heat that melts windshields
while we hold
mountains in our encrusted hands


and then the dusting
of yesterday’s socks
flocks of cloud run away
even as I honk

funny music falls
into a gas station
tea shop
terrace of rice

even here there is vice
look at the moon
eaten away with disease
look at the wars that stars

fight in headlight

look at your fingers
inch into the withered ice
just so they can be wise

Details | Ashok Niyogi Poem


I have never 
Actually seen all this,
I just fantasize 
In theme parks and pubs,
During an Alumni picnic,
Or while exiting bookshops.

Dreamland concoctions,
Warehoused in letters 
After mundane names
Inherited from 
A not so erudite father,
I would have the blood pumped in,
What goes out
Must, after all be replaced.

Lines and phrases
Twisted through history
This way or that,
Like autumn leaves
In a tornado of dust,
On a sunny day.

Sounds tell me
That life has woken up,
Time for cotton wool
In kidney trays,
Time for squirrels 
To gather nuts.

They will open
This sarcophagus
After me, beyond me,
Let the wisp escape the willow,

They will gather dust.

Details | Ashok Niyogi Poem


This is as philosophical
As keeping the count, 
Binoculars trained
For a whale 
That will never spout,
This is not the season,
Hamlet knew.

The Pilgrim knew,
As did the Wife of Bath,
This is discovery,
A poem on the Underground
By Sylvia Plath.

This is the season of butchery,
Bullfights without rules,
Lions shot with a precision rifle,
Selective breeding
On Noah’s ark.

This is as dark as it gets
In a daylight forest,
As stark
As one isolated note 
From an aria,
As lonesome as one straggler goose,
Squawking, ‘take me along’.

Details | Ashok Niyogi Poem


it’s a matter of
where your thumb was
when Thumbelina walked
into your toll-point

this voice
is as abrasive
as children in the park
where larks perch

in cold not sheltered
by old prostitutes
in gold with cats
and salad on mayonnaise

these winter suns
are prophylactic
on photographs
of my father and mother
long dead

like empty bottles
where cockroaches have tread

Details | Ashok Niyogi Poem


The leaf right under the streetlight knows
The car window taped up again and again knows
The width of the deserted road sweats in the drizzle but knows
The drunken feet have assessed
The incline
The height of the sidewalk
They walk like they own
Or are possessed
They will not rest
The mind has conquered its devils
Is conquered and vanquished
Ogres from the past march hand in hand
Leaders with Alzheimer’s take the band stand
In the morning sun
Absolute silence reigns
In this autistic world
The only drums are the ones I can hear
The only shrieks are mine
Echoes from Mount Diablo
We sing odes to lullabies
That will sleep us through life

Details | Ashok Niyogi Poem


But do I meander?
Did I have to say
Something to someone
Somewhere in time,
Do I run away?

I had made it habit
To lull myself with tales
Of glory, that will never be,
Now time is running out.

It will soon be dawn,
The morning wind
Will remind me 
Of debts I will not repay,
Shorelines I should have touched
Sails tucked in,
Like a well behaved boat,
Groomed in poetic forms.

I need not have smoked, 
Or heard the sounds
Of melting ice
In an empty glass.
Or held hands in the park,
Smelt the ocean,
Wept with War and Peace.

Now I blame the rules
For not keeping track,
I blame the froth
For the foam in my head,
And crumbling plaster 
On bathroom walls.

The ants taught me
To march in single file,
But I never learnt.

Details | Ashok Niyogi Poem


the white bark pine
bends windwards
the west wind
roars in from the west
mercilessly flogging
flurries of snow
the white bark pine
turns away
and doesn’t want to know
it does not have to swivel
and twist through human debris
it just must ride the winter
arthritic as it is
and show up living white
in next year’s summer sun
without articulation
of twisted pain