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Best Poems Written by Dr.Sandeep Kumar Kar

Below are the all-time best Dr.Sandeep Kumar Kar poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Dr.Sandeep Kumar Kar Poem

Shine In the Moonshine

Struggle 




 


Shine in the Moonshine
 Dr. Sandeep Kumar Kar


Shine, Oh! Street, in the rain of white light.
Oh! Highway man, shine in the luminescent light.
Thieves enlightened, sinuous thoughts swayed away, 
by the wave of joy thou sway. 
Bess! Rise! End this slumber.
Noyes to imprint a new story of the grave yard.
The Highway man wandering on his stallion, 
this time, not a ghostly meet but a real union.
The soldiers fast asleep,
the highway man in his historic quest.
This time, no gunfire,
and never that sorrowful alarm.
Bess! Wake up! There is a halo of hope, 
for the lovely union of hearts, there is scope.  
The frog croaking,
the mantis in its usual praying posture,
all praying for this legendary ever awaited union,
swinging with you to begin days in halcyon.
The soldiers sleeping in their graves.
No General this time, to make them awake.
The cricket and the frog engaged in their request.
Soft sweet words whispered into his ears, 
and then a historic embrace.
Latent became the whispered words, 
in the natural cry of request, 
to deafen the envious ears,
in the union a hindrance. 


Only Bess and the highway man in the moon shine,
a torrent swaying the dust into every envious eyes.
Together, riding the historic stallion, 
merge themselves in your shine.
A new liberation, a new inspiration,
in the dream of mine.

Details | Dr.Sandeep Kumar Kar Poem

From Where Shall I Greatness Buy

Mom tells me to finish my homework quickly,
When I ask why?, she tells me
“You should become great as great as your dad”.
When I ask, where is my dad Mom?
She tells me, “He is now god’s guest.”
Again when I ask Mom, 
“Can I not become great by being the god’s guest”?
She slaps me gently and tells me, 
“Now just shut up and get your homework done”.
Little later when I ask she says, 
“Your Dad fought like a tiger, 
risking his life, he never bothered.
His gun has brought him greatness
and the honour of being the god’s guest.
Again when I ask, 
“Do people become great when they fight”?
If so, I will beat in the school, 
My friend Philip, with my might.”
Now, Mom calls me stupid and gives me a push.
Crying I go to sleep in her lap, 
Now she says, “Tomorrow I will 
give you pocket money for ice-cream”.
Wiping my eyes when I ask,
Mom! ”Can I by saving pocket money,
try greatness buy”?
Tell Mom, “From where shall I greatness buy”?
She tells, “Oh god help me”
and begins to cry.

Details | Dr.Sandeep Kumar Kar Poem

Operation Poetry

The clock struck twelve,
the midnight started swinging.
Volcanic developments going in the mind,
for the erupting magma of art and creativity.
Pages of literature and fiction,
turning the history of hope,
in sweat drenched hands.
The dictionary turning and tuning
the fate of words.
The old owl of plagiarism,
sitting on the nearest branch,
visible from my window screen,
sitting with withered wings,
wearing the spectacles of treachery. 

                              Rhyming synonyms put into the balance,
                              greatest short stories and ideals turned,
                              to whip the horse of spontaneity,
                               to drive the cart of imprinted emotions.

The operation in full swing,
The programme of “My Computer” changing.
Aberration of a saintly figure in saffron robe,
A voice reverberating the historic “Chicago Address”,
revealing the secret of work in these words -
“Helping a man spiritually is the greatest possible help”.

                                     My mind gradually building
                                     the stalactites and stalagmites of wisdom.
                                     The aberration slowly vanishing,
                                     serving as radar,
                                     guiding my pirate ship of thoughts,
                                      to surrender in the dock of honesty.

Tears of repentance rolling down my cheeks.
My arrow of a single glimpse of truth.
The old owl of plagiarism flying away and away, 
flapping its wings.
Satiated feeling my triumph,
I went to sleep,
when the clock struck one

Details | Dr.Sandeep Kumar Kar Poem

We Poets Are Farmers Still

We poets are farmers still,
ploughing our mind in the invisible field,
whenever the mind makes the pen wield.
Sowing the seeds of emotion,
in the field of melancholy,
we reap the expression of joy
with our hearts happy and merry.
Gardeners we are to our core,
as we are happy to see our words bloom
amidst the reverberation of “Encores”.
Idioms, our fertilizers,
simile and metaphors, the growth enhancers.
The monsoon, the joy of spring,
when in the winds of expression ,
our joy swings.
Words bearing a new look,
publicity reaping the best
out of our joyous moods.
Our alert mind, the scare crow, 
driving the birds of plagiarism away, 
helps the expression to bloom and grow.
Again we wait for the next showers,
hoping this time, the day will be ours.
We then sow the time awaited seeds of expression,
with the waves of time, the blooming showers.
Their timed sprout is now, 
when you lovers of art, 
read it aloud and feel it in your heart.

Details | Dr.Sandeep Kumar Kar Poem

The Last Few Days

With blurred hopes and blunt dreams, 
not with melancholy within,
I am to sail in the dynamic sky,
across any horizon I confront,
with the kite in my dreams,
colouring my dreams,
with your life giving brush.
 
How long this torturous transition?
I am withering like an ice-cream,
witnessing and experiencing the anger,
of your calculations,
left to the mercy of the sun.
No one there to have pity on me.
The withered rocks my sole companion.
The dried leaves, the reality.
Anchors of love, the cobweb.
Insignificance, my treasure.
My loose hanging skin, my beauty.
My life, a burden.
I am alone with my dreams frightening me,
nobody there to inspire and enlighten me.
My old stick, the companion in my miseries,
tired of my dependence,
tumbles  and breaks,
projecting me into my orbit of my marathon.
I myself the very embodiment of my soul.




My soul is being swayed by the dry winds,
accompanied by the soul of the withered leaves.
Together we set out to find, 
the new horizon of enlightenment.
To sail across it my ultimate goal,
where there is the nightingale,
who sings the reality in her songs.

Details | Dr.Sandeep Kumar Kar Poem

The Scorpion

Slowly, I creep into your thoughts,
bringing about a transformation,
Then, I reign over your senses,
controlling your actions.
 
                                              Slowly I spread my poison,
                                              you develop my induced stings,
                                              by developing sanguivorous instincts.
                                              you throw your nation to the winds,
                                              by extending hands to the fiends,
                                              drawing all national virtues and treasures
                                              into your own treasury,
                                              camouflaging yourself with a mask,
                                              which you call it as politics.
                                              It is me creeping into your nation
                                              In a national scale,
                                              bringing about your destruction. 
 
With my mission accomplished,
I leave you poisoned,
both in your spirits and actions,
by my poisonous stings,
bearing on your thoughts my imprint.
Then I creep into other nations,
for my mission is
utter destruction and complete elimination,
of human population and virtues,
as I am the scorpion.

Details | Dr.Sandeep Kumar Kar Poem

Sorrows

As the falling rain,
prepares the earth, for the future crops,
Sorrows, showering on the heart
prepare and mellow it,
for the sowing of the seeds of wisdom,
perfecting the mind, and
gladdening the heart.
Clouds darken the earth, 
but to cool and to fructify.
Grief like clouds, 
shadow the heart, 
to prepare it for nobler things.
Sorrow, the hour of reverence, 
death knell blow to shallow sheer, 
the ribald yest, 
the cruel calumny.
Sorrows soften heart with sympathy, 
enriching the mind with thoughtfulness, 
the real collection of it, 
being the fructification of mind, 
when the sorrows pass away.

Details | Dr.Sandeep Kumar Kar Poem

Struggle

The fragrant peace is difficult to achieve,
The gong of time clicks,
to start a struggle,
struggle for the glorifying survival.
The wasp ready with its stings.
The eagle and the felidae with their claws.
The nectar is the victim,
piercing eyes, looking to grip the innocent mouse.
The bright sunlight aiding the struggle,
marking the end of the war of survival at sunset.
Birds returning to their respective camps,
like a retreating army.
The night’s stillness again preparing them,
to begin the struggle again,
when the sun showers his sparkling rays,
the dancing rays of creation,
the harbinger of struggle.

Details | Dr.Sandeep Kumar Kar Poem

Three Old Companions

Three pairs of old legs
and three strong sticks,
everyday have a stroll,
in every dynamic evening,
when the sun is brick red,
and the chirping birds returning home.

They don’t know what gifts the morning sun,
has for them, on the next day,
for it is known,
nothing less than death
and nothing more than 
another day’s wait,
for the ever awaiting death.
“My daughter in law today 
gave me a single piece of fish
but herself had two instead”
said the oldest folk with the weakest legs,
but with the strongest stick.
The other old man said,
“I had none,
but I suspect they had some”.
The thinnest old man said,
”My son didn’t get promotion,
So my daughter in law,
gave me a day’s starvation.”
A gush of wind interrupted their talk.
All the twelve old eyes saw the dry leaves,
being swayed away by the young and fresh wind.
“See the message of the time,
The old being eliminated,
at the onset of the young”.
One of them said.

Then they returned
to their respective homes,
looking at the returning birds,
returning back into the horizon.
Together the old men said,
“Hope we shall meet tomorrow
at the same time, at the same place”.
The next day, 
the morning sun shined brick red.
The chirping returning birds 
brought in its wake, the fateful evening.

From the road along the east,
came the strongest old man,
from the Western avenue,
came the other old man.
While along the south on the road,
nobody except a torrent of wind came,
which swayed the dry leaves into the sky,
and the dust into their old eyes.
One of them said,
“Look our eldest brother deceived us
and went away together,
with the soul of the withered leaves,
terminating his wait.
But, we still have to wait.
Hope to see you next evening,
at the same time, at the same place."

Details | Dr.Sandeep Kumar Kar Poem

The Transitions

The state of darkness 
accelerates our delight in the sunlight.
The state of stagnation,
glorifies the state of motion.
The taste of nectar is achieved, 
after the bee has thoroughly wandered.
The brightness of the sunlight
and their triumph in outshining, 
The twinkling stars, 
activates my taste 
for the cosmic starlight.
The boredom at noon, 
increases my delight, 
for the games at twilight
The hurly burly of life, 
increases my appetite, 
towards the divine.
The state of isolation,
increases my inclination for
the poetic expressions.
All these phenomena hum a common rhyme.
The transition glorifies the succession.