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Best Poems Written by Aparajita Bhattacharjee

Below are the all-time best Aparajita Bhattacharjee poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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My Garden Dahlias

They make me wonder---
What fingers wove the tapestry of their being!
The splash of violet here, mauve there, white with red stripes—
They stand tall and do not bend till the wind forces them to.
Though soft, they manifest dignity.
When stress and depression shoot their thorns,
 A glimpse of these beauties spell discipline.
‘We are of the earth and we belong to her.
She has given us beige, yellow, red and has waited
For us to grow, in effort and ecstasy.
When butterflies, birds and bees hum around
We greet them with glee. We fear not.
We bear the heat, the dust and the cold--
Even in pain, in disdain, we find the sun.’
In their company, I find freedom. And
In their being, my soul.

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In the Midst of It All

In the midst of it all
I find my poem.
Lines cascade over
No, not in vain.
I gather my thoughts
And run them free.
They grow and spread
Like the branches of a tree.

Life’s a journey, we walk it through.
It writes our stories, of me and you.
It gathers dust when we don’t live
the way we were designed---
To forget and forgive.

By necessity’s force, it runs in heart
It’s Unity, Faith, yet we drift apart.
It throws at us tantrums and guile
Liberty’s love and Serenity’s style.

It stores in us, it’s commitment’s core.
We thrive in it, when gales galore.
It guides us to seek, the Benevolent Grace.
It shows us, us, our Truth on our face.

We love to drink the Spirit of Time
When youth sings along, and we in our prime 
Drink its illusion, rather than bliss,
Our souls we lose, at Desire’s kiss.

The knock it is, that sets the alarm,
Time smiles, still lost in its charm,
We hear the knock one’s or twice
It’s Death alone, that sets our price.

The story is over, we are set--
To write forth, what we forget.
It is our fear that numbs our veins
We solicit love to ease our pains.

'Give us that which we seek
To rise us above, the Himalayan peaks.
Grant us Grace that we all deserve
You are our Love, it’s You who we serve'.

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TYRANNY

From the mass arose, a one of its kind---
          Resolved to affect, the whole of mankind.
               A brain gifted to influence the lot.
                   He owes to all, lives he bought.

                               His legacy lies in clandestine veins,
                                    That rules lands, the inhuman terrains.
                                        Calculating minds surrender to him.
                                             Evil incarnate, he makes heads spin.

                                                     Empathy not, revenge he seeks,
                                                Nature's curse, he promises peaks.
                                        Philanthropy a garb, to make up for all
                              The sins he caused at ambition's call.

                 He feeds on wealth, he feeds on fire
            He is love's craziest desire
       He makes his rules, owns them all
   Bitterness incarnate, he causes downfall.

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I Owe It To My Heart

I owe it to my heart to bring back to me
the better it loved, the yet to be.
To discourage thoughts that push aside,
all that is past and part of my pride.

l owe it to my heart to bring back to me,
Long lost memories that happened to be---
Deep underneath in the quicksand of time,
Giving me my pride that necessitated my prime. 

l owe it to my heart to gain me that love,
That's awfully patient and painful enough.
To help see things and accept as they are.
To loyally betray all that is marred.

Far from truth, far from prayer.
Far from masked favors rare.
l owe it to my heart, to see heaven through----
to refine my knowledge, my mind had screwed.

To justify my gains and others’ too,
To share their pain that meant as it should.
To help suffer enough, love's longing sport.
To define my pride, my rainbowed effort. 

l owe it to my heart to love as it would,
to set free people who're meant for good.
To create horizons destined to grow.
To humble my pride, my alter ego.

I owe it to my heart to reason just,
To leaf through leads that honor l must.
To effectively feel all love has borne,
To effect the Me, that pride had shorn.

To drop the me, the I, I am not.
To be the me, my being has sought.
In Eternity's Crest, I'm Time.
I owe it to my heart, to measure life's line.

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PARASITE

It’s a parasite’s world.
The worm of laziness
Clogging the mind, 
Ego refusing change.

It’s a parasite’s world,
Seeping through one’s blood and breath.
Adoption, adaptation to change, an uphill task.
Ignorance, dark, deep, masquerading ugliness.

It’s a parasite’s world---
Where dependence is practice.
And excuses-- strategy, to design.
Deadlines met feverishly by others.

It’s a parasite’s world,
Where type of work affect quality.
Where comparison and perks galore
Stifling freedom, to create with responsibility.

It’s a parasite’s world,
Where, those who do and are willing
Get busted with jargon of abuse.
Euphemisms learnt and articulated.

It’s a parasite’s world 
Where fear is fed with horror.
Where incompatibility and incompetency
Rule one’s hidden strength and power.

It's a parasite's world
where love lavishes in luxury
and 'Basic Instinct' given prowess
Suck out life from the 'highest of all species'.

Details | Aparajita Bhattacharjee Poem

In the Painter's Canvas

In the heart of the art, love steps in breathing slowly.
The blue, the brown and the green 
stripped of all modesty submits to red.
A leg here, an arm there, confusion cliched.
The painter tries to shape form in his brush
But the canvas holds sounds long silenced.
Sweat and pain paint a picture of tolerance
And anguish sucks in a lot of the white.
The artist struggles to breathe life somewhere
But devastation shreds dreams to smithereens.
As black and red flash loud extremes
He involuntarily draws a streak of silver.
Love steps in, breathing life in the horizon.

Details | Aparajita Bhattacharjee Poem

ABANDONED

That autumn morning, when I first saw you
Tall and handsome, draped in a suit,
I felt life, throbbing within
Never to leave me.

Shorn of love and feeling for days
Burnt screams of emptiness
Had resonated in my heart’s crevices. 
Without a name.

You brought me relief and rescued me
from bearing the burden of historical anchorage.
Swept me off my feet, resonating
Ceremonial celebrations.

Your careful maneuvers, knowledge and style, 
in structure, orchestrated a symphony of dreams . 
in the rooms, in every corner and breath
Culture resonated.
.

Disconnected, yet with a regard
You shaped me in your taste.
I felt my being rapture, with a sweetness
Unspoken of.

No longer empty, I felt myself glow.
Chandeliers, banisters whispered gratitude.
I felt life ripple through meetings over dinners.
Anniversaries over years.

Then one day you left.
A change. Catastrophic.

Knocks or footsteps no longer sound.
Nor curtains or candles lightened
The gloom of emptiness
Dark and deep.

A mass of broken brick and mortar now,
Shorn of cemented hopes in my crevices---
I feel shattered, ashamed of being
damned. Dilapidated.

Details | Aparajita Bhattacharjee Poem

I See You

l see you in a crowded train,
ln a lonely station l see you.
l see you in tomorrow's touch.
ln serene sunrise l see you.
l see you in my office at times
ln eyes that smile l see you.
l see you in sickness and pain
'midst men and women l see you.
I see you in ocean's tide
In shells ashore I see you.
l see you in years passed
ln sultry days l see you.
l see you in a petal soft.
ln a drop of rain l see you.
l see you in a grain of sand.
ln a rainbow too l see you.
l see you in a baby's eyes
ln dreams of love l see you.
I see you in tender lips
In broken hearts I see you.
I see you in a rubble of loss
In tyranny and chaos I see you.
I see you in a strand of hair
In moments of loss I see you.
I see you in a painter's art.
In empty gaze I see you.
I  see you in a writer's pen
In awards, ceremonies I see you.
I see you in blossomed breasts
In flakes of snow I see you.
I see you with all my being.
In moments of death I see you.

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In Love with Them

Like two flowers dancing in symphony 
      with the wind that cradles their feelings 
      they move about untouched. Unaffected
      by the wisdom, deceit and judgement 
      of a world that is so opinionated.

      A softness reflect in their gaze 
      in their reverence for each other.
      Their chemistry melts my aching heart 
      As they beam in their simplicity, an
      Innocence that can’t be ignored.

      I wonder how on earth can we have
      a manifestation of love so unearthly?!
      Is this God’s way of expressing that
      Love is not lost despite desperate efforts 
      to swipe mankind off from its face? 

      Like rain quenching a thirsty earth, 
      I continue to marvel at the two
      As they bask in their own freedom
      in their own orbs, own phases of life
      embodying the paradise, we all dream of.

Details | Aparajita Bhattacharjee Poem

FROM THE DIARY OF AN EMPLOYER

I want you to come to me
With all the reasons good.
With nothing much to worry about,
Less to be misunderstood.

I want you to look at me
With love and care and hope.
I want you to read my eyes,
Where words find little scope.

I want you to be heard 'midst all
And spread the dew of love.
I want you to be happy with me,
Though much is thrust from 'bove.

I guess am not wrong after all,
In chasing my dreams long born.
I want you to be a part of this,
My heart's no room for scorn.

Give me a break for a while,
I want to be alive with you.
In laughter, party, participate,
At times am a lot bit screwed.

I love to see you tenderly work,
With passion etched on your frown.
I want to hear your breath release,
Satisfaction and music around.

I give no word of mine I know,
You held a better score.
I want you to touch my life--
Leaving me to wait for more.