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Ankush Chakrabarty Poem
In cold melancholy the spirit sings,
As angels toss their darkened wings,
Grotesques upon yon pillared manse,
Awaken for this gruesome dance,
Fountains spout their molten flames,
Whispering forgotten names,
With furtive glance does Time evade,
Memories to dust doth fade,
And moonbeams shine on frozen glass.
A hollow gong of rusty brass
Chiming from the tower stark,
Nestling in the unbidden dark,
Where songs of joy and songs of hope
Vanquish'd in some gruesome stroke,
Resound in halls 'twere never built,
As oak and ash do groan and wilt,
For naught is true but falsities:
Shall this night ever come to be?
Copyright © Ankush Chakrabarty | Year Posted 2012
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Ankush Chakrabarty Poem
A testament to human will it stands,
Fair maiden of all the foreign lands.
An equilibrium between Earth and sea,
Maintained in grotesque ecstasy.
The gentle lap of waves doth speak,
Of times ere now, of bygone weeks,
Of countless Romeos in ages old,
Emotions worth their weight in gold,
And whispers in the dark I hear,
Every time I saunter near
The unlit alleys and ragged walls,
Creaking bridges and eerie halls,
Fair Venice why art thou so dark?
Distress'd art thou, thy face is mark'd--
With horror; in words which no man dare etch,
Captured forever in this gloomy sketch.
Copyright © Ankush Chakrabarty | Year Posted 2012
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Ankush Chakrabarty Poem
I watch the rain---
As the pitter-patter
Merges with the cacophony
Of everyday life,
And wonder..
Does the rain fall,
Or do we rise to meet it?
Copyright © Ankush Chakrabarty | Year Posted 2012
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Ankush Chakrabarty Poem
Hopes fly high 'neath this azure sky,
Tendrils of smoke rise from the hearths,
In the throes of ecstasy as they kiss the obscure
Puffs of white in the infinite horizon.
The wind is chill, but irony plays a cruel hand
Its skillfull sleight grips us in its freezing maw
And the golden trickster of noontime
Promises warmth but breaks its oath,
Mocking us as if to say
Springtime is near, springtime is near..
While predatory Winter grins in its dark cave
Its white fangs bared to taste first blood.
Copyright © Ankush Chakrabarty | Year Posted 2012
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Ankush Chakrabarty Poem
Gray.
Bathed in eternal twilight the city sleeps,
While the fangs of a restless wind
Hounds it four corners.
Mists of breath rise,
From the one who walks -
Through the eerie shroud
Of padded footsteps and ticking time.
Gray -
Looming from the stillness
Engulfing the light.
As the Sun battles for its place
In the pinnacle of mankind's vision.
Silence.
Louder..
Louder than any sound
Kissing mortal ears
Defying life.
And still he walks
In solitude.
In gray.
Copyright © Ankush Chakrabarty | Year Posted 2012
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