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Best Poems Written by Tapan Nath

Below are the all-time best Tapan Nath poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Tapan Nath Poem

HER

In the midst of a wet night,
Discovered myself upon a viaduct.
Straggled or vagrant, uncertain.
Not petrified by the dark, rumbling sky,
Amazed to find the place familiar.

I perceived the faintest advancing steps,
On turning back, delighted with her presence.
The cold, shivering breeze, 
Waved her black long hair.
I insisted not to blink.

She ambled,
At my fore now, only whispered.
I apologize greatly, for concealment, for eons.
I was denied your presence: a shadow's grace.
Only welcoming death set my soul free.

Fate unveiled its script,
Offering me a last goodbye.
Imparting my truth before the noose claims me.
My world knows no dawn since....
Now gone, shine bright, bring me dawn once more.

Conveying my farewell,
I plunged into the water.
Bewildered-reincarnated.
Faced....
My damp eyes.

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Mirror

Lying on the grass carpet,
I met myself,
A kid from the past oblivion.
Sought my assistance, 
Questioned the path I travelled.

We both talked an hour, 
Despite our dissimilarities, 
The faces were the same.
It left me in awe initially,
Calmed knowing it's me.

The road I travelled, 
Not less a disappointment,
Now I look back, it screams at me,
They say I'm a hypocrite.
You indeed enjoy the journey. 

Black skies hover the lost path,
A blurred image I can't see through.
Is this the cataract on my eyes?
"Let the sun shine again"
But child, what’s changed if ghosts remain?
Why drag me back to that old pain?

He spoke of summers, bright and free,
Yet stirred the graves inside of me.
I relived, though vague, 
His words were de-ja-vu.
Grave screeches, woke the dead.
Revived past.
Now they raise questions too, 
Contradicting my every statement.

Don't get curious kid, it backs downfall
People would judge you.
They spare none, 
Be a hero, a fool, a king, a clown...
Raise the shield, prepare for the battle
Let the war come.

You remember, don't you?
So, you harbour the grudges?
Did you fight back, or just hold pain?
I apologise, it must be early.
I wish I could make them stop.
Do me this favour.

I drew a line between justice and revenge,
You should too.
The line I once crossed, hardships manipulated,
Caused me a war, and left me blind.
The life you live, I can't recall,
We share the name, but no such life.

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A legacy forgotten

Consider my grave your resting place too,
An empathetic soul who rests here.
Worry not poet, it haunts no more,
Covered with maggots, I've rotted here for a while.
These sockets are now emptied, I see nothing to judge.

With my brains swallowed,
I am no critique.
Only bones adorning dirt and bugs.
Justitia, you can call me.
Lend me your ears and I'll spit the truth.

They cherished me when lived, 
Now left in a churchyard to rot and suffocate.
Did I not serve them well? 
Recall the fights I fought, for our pride poet.
Yet, lie here, with mates, died in my lap.

Never craved for this grave,
But a life, unafraid.
Early, wasn't it? 
My beard never turned grey, in fact.
Celebrate my story, in a poem in your next birth.

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Justice

The wild wind plays its part.
Orchids on my Lord's yard
Blown and thrown apart.
They were meant to fall?
Before coming of age?
The suspects were to be summoned at  once.

"No such intentions I carry, oh Lord...."
Wild wind presents, an alibi persuading.
"I was hurled by these towering trees."
The court, bewildered.
Yet, advocated his statement.

"It was not just me, a whole bunch of us.
I? Merely a pawn swayed by an arrogant king, Sire?
I take no part in this massacre...."
Not even a warlord made my king sweat.
Apprehension of injustice it is.

Suppressing the murmurs, my King speaks.
"Oh mighty wind, brutal nature force,
Why assist destruction of the old man's blossom?
Tell me, oh lofty tree.
You bear children of your own, 
Why kill mine? "

"Why flowers bloom?
When destined to wither only.
We relish and embrace them,
Refer- beauty, innocence and sanctity.
Why gather them here?
A corpse lying on a pyre...."

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The Birds

Reclined under the shade of a snag tree,
A babbler piqued my curiosity.
Staggered by the companionship, initially.
Then pleased.

I discerned a lamenting warble...
The massif offered commiserations to him,
With an echo.
A lorikeet adjoined him, ensuingly
And, she twittered a novel...
Which was beyond my comprehension.

Nefarious humans are certainly not shaped,
To perceive this heavenly beauty.

His agonised warble was altered;
Now sings a euphonious trill.
Fare-thee-well, they exclaimed to the departing sun.
Much obliged, sings the song of love.

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Epiphany

Reflecting its neighbourhood,
The lake water shone yellow.
Resembling a synchronisation of saturation 
With the setting sun.
Seizing green colour of the grasses 
The sun painted them gold.

Engrossed gazing pines dance spectacularly,
Only awakened with sparrows' chirps,
And Robins' melodious songs.
Perched on the edge of a dead tree,
Abrupt thoughts hovered my consciousness.

Despite a gust, the dead tree stayed firm.
Nighbours swayed, relished,
Departing sun of the beautiful evening.
It rests and rests....

The landscape mirrored delight,
It grieved its own death.
Incompetent to sense, the scorching sun,
The white sheet of snow, dusk and dawn.
It rests and rests....

Observed the ambience twice .
No mournings! no sorrow!
Nothing ceased their pace.
Infact , they moved on.
It rests and rests....