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Subimal Sinha-Roy Poem
You entered my room
a long time ago
across many summers,
now when this winter looks
at the trees shedding the leaves
you are by the closed window
leaning on the cold wall
and I am by the fireplace,
your eyes on the cracking wood on fire
mine on the frosted window pane.
Have you ever wondered
why my voice doesn’t reach you,
the words crash on the wall
and fall silent, that’s why.
Have you ever wondered
why my warmth doesn’t touch you,
the feelings brush the window pane
and freeze inert, that’s why.
Have you ever wondered
why my eyes don’t look into yours,
the vision is stuck on barren trees outside
and waits for the spring, that’s why.
Have you ever wondered
why my hands can’t hold yours,
the reach is lost in distant time
and breaks separated, that’s why.
I have wondered
if I could break the cold wall
shatter the iced window pane
make the trees green again
would my voice rise from the dust
the warmth of my mind melt the ice
my eyes bring colors of spring in yours,
would the time stop
stop to create distance
and I could hold your hands again.
Posted : November 23, 2017.
Copyright © Subimal Sinha-Roy | Year Posted 2017
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Subimal Sinha-Roy Poem
Down the gradient of meandering verdant valley
Draining down the dregs of the fading dusk
Beyond the threshold of the wild woods thick
My white stallion gallops in the emerald prairie.
Gossamer gloss sparkles on the supple skin
Wisps of silky cloud swirl on the satin mane
Tossing on swinging waves of the south wind
The equine beauty canters out of my heart.
Bent blades of jade grass sway in sinuous ruffle
In sync with the rhythm of the bolting ivory grace
The tilted hooves hover in the transfixed air
Panorama of motion captured in sublime silence.
Soaked in twilight glow we cross the last pasture
Floating on cascading spectrum of the setting sun
Beyond the glowing horizon of grandeur I see
The portal of heaven opens for my horse and me.
March 30, 2020
Contest : Completely Your Choice (42) Any Form Any Theme
Sponsor : Brian Strand
Copyright © Subimal Sinha-Roy | Year Posted 2020
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Subimal Sinha-Roy Poem
In my meadow the scent of spring ripples in air,
I see the dance of patina on dainty petals of daisy,
unfurling with the touch of dawn’s spectrum,
like your hazel eyes out of the trance of dream.
The flowers blossom in chromatic charisma of joy,
look up to the sunburst pallet of the seamless sky,
the essence is suffused with splendorous sparkle,
painting pristine portrait of your of surreal beauty .
As the satin night showers the silver tinsels,
floating in the mystique miasma of moonbeam,
I descry the sparkling sky descend in my garden,
you shine with sapphire hue as sprouting stars.
The celestial charm of golden glow,
pulsates in my heart with enticing rhythm,
that radiates the luring luster of exultation
from the core of fair petals of your floral face.
Pining for the embrace of your radiant purity
I make my yearning an ornate vase,
place a bunch of blooming buds,
that flower you for me as fresh as a daisy.
_____________
July 30, 2022
Contest : Simile
Sposnored by : Hilo Poet
Copyright © Subimal Sinha-Roy | Year Posted 2022
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Subimal Sinha-Roy Poem
On my walk around the green meadow
in the sun splattered mesmeric mornings,
I used to see an old lady of the neighborhood,
sitting straight like a lone statue of cold stone
on the road-side bench I always crossed.
The golden stream of surging sunbeam
cascaded down the engraved web of rills
on her septuagenarian fragile face.
She would raise her thin ivory hands
from the recess of reclined lap unmoved,
flail in frail gesture in the scented air,
murmuring ‘good morning’ perhaps,
I could hardly hear in the rustle of leaves,
but my long day waited to begin
with the shining dawn of her smile,
drenching me in the silent shower of joy.
I still walk as the senile sun rises everyday,
but its searching rays saddened like me,
don’t find the lady on the bench,
but she walks smiling with me,
down the memory lane.
Written : March 22, 2020
July 23, 2022
Contest : 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 9
Sponsored by : Mark Toney
Copyright © Subimal Sinha-Roy | Year Posted 2020
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Subimal Sinha-Roy Poem
In open space free
Steel and glass enclosure
A small moving space confined
My possession of pride
Momentum propelled by young drive
A companion of trust.
The wingless bird
Tunneled timid air
Dust trailed the motion
Distance to sunrise horizon
Contracted like an accordion
Music under the bonnet.
Tread of twenty turning years
Took abrasive toll on patina of past
My adored Fiat Padmini senile
Rusted in immobile inertia
Old jalopy’s journey to junkyard
Raised the last dust
From the debris of my heart.
Written : July 22, 2019
May 19, 2020
Contest : Brian's Choice L
Sponsor : Brian Strand
Copyright © Subimal Sinha-Roy | Year Posted 2019
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Subimal Sinha-Roy Poem
I
had
aspired
to hover high
on the horizon where
the blue sky meets the land
and fly like a colored kite made
of dreams in the air carrying the scent
of the spring from the blooming garden I left
I would float like a bird and ride on the
flank of drifting cloud taking me
to the distant unknown sky
I would make my home
won’t return to
concrete
jungle
for the string
I
w
i
l
l
s
n
a
p
f
l
y
o
n
w
i
n
g
s
kite
concrete
concrete
concrete
concrete jungle kite jungle
concrete concrete jungle from jungle
concrete concrete jungle concrete concrete jungle
concretejungleconcrete jungle concrete concrete jungle
concretejungleconcrete jungle concretekite jungleconcrete jungle
concretejungleconcrete jungle concretejungle jungleconcrete jungle
concretejungleconcrete jungle concretejungle jungleconcrete jungle
Copyright © Subimal Sinha-Roy | Year Posted 2018
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Subimal Sinha-Roy Poem
You entered my room a long time ago
across the dry landscape of many summers
now when this winter looms over the trees
shedding the wilted leaves
you are by the closed window
leaning on the cold wall
and I am by the fireplace
your eyes on the cracking wood on fire
mine on the frosted window pane.
Have you ever wondered
why my voice doesn’t reach you
the words crash on the wall
and fall silent, that’s why
have you ever wondered
why my warmth doesn’t touch you
the feelings brush the window pane
and freeze inert, that’s why
have you ever wondered why
my eyes don’t look into yours
the vision is stuck on the bare trees outside
and waits for the spring, that’s why
have you ever wondered why
my hands can’t hold yours
the reach is lost in desolate time
and breaks separated, that’s why.
I have wondered if I could break the cold wall
shatter the iced window pane
make the trees green again
would my voice rise from the dust
would the warmth of my mind melt the ice
and my eyes bring the colors of spring in yours,
would the flow of time stop
stop to create the stretching distance
and I could hold your hands again.
Copyright © Subimal Sinha-Roy | Year Posted 2020
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Subimal Sinha-Roy Poem
WINNING THE WAR
In tough action of war crawls the soldier
across the thorny ground riddled with mine,
charges with loaded gun on the shoulder,
revenge and rage in mind sorely combine.
Facing risk of dying any instant
flash of the face of his little daughter
he sees smile in his emotion dormant,
he stows for his mission is to slaughter.
His task is to kill enemy at sight
with hands that fondly caressed the daughter.
Fear of death is killed by the spur to fight,
to live for her, it’s not time to falter.
Become a bold soldier, fight without fear
you’ll live for the loved ones winning the war.
January 8, 2019.
Syllable count : 10 each line
Checked on howmanysyllables.com
Copyright © Subimal Sinha-Roy | Year Posted 2019
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Subimal Sinha-Roy Poem
PATINA OF PAIN
Beneath the kaleidoscopic chameleon skin
the concept called color doesn’t ever change,
as red stream in the vein blood flows always thin.
The truth dwells beyond the frail deception range.
The ephemeral sheen of the mask on the face
melts in unshed tears behind the pensive eye.
In the shadow of stifled shame it begins to trace
a track in time to reach the reality, it can’t defy.
In the shimmering show of the revolving circus
the flashing clown tramps on stage in fake style,
under spotlight shapes into an animated carcass.
The concealed pain bleeds behind sprained smile.
In the harsh winds of desert at the sunset hour
the weathering life rusted with age can’t retain
the luster of the mind, once a blooming flower.
The crease of wilted petals wraps patina of pain.
Posted : June 30, 2018
June 19, 2020
Contest : Your Best Poem Ever
Sponsor : John Hamilton
Copyright © Subimal Sinha-Roy | Year Posted 2018
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Subimal Sinha-Roy Poem
I heard the birds sing, felt when the breeze blew
for you as sunburst sky flushed your face in hue.
How adorable you were to me you had no clue,
if only you knew.
After the morose night in your garden I found me,
how brightly I’d sparkled like the pearl of ecstasy,
being on patina of your luring rose a drop of dew,
if only you knew.
From the eternity I borrowed the time we’d shared,
like blazing sunset sky my yearning in reverie flared.
How keen I was to see the day my dream came true,
if only you knew.
In blue firmament of your eyes my fervor had flown
to the charming nest I’d built to become our own.
How fondly I sheltered my memory as storm blew,
if only you knew.
Sound of your voice rippled the silence of longing,
filled with melody the void of my lonesome being.
How complete I became when you made me new,
if only you knew.
When drifting on the trail of melting mirage you left,
like dry sands of caved-in dune I felt deserted bereft.
How sadly my unsaid words ‘I need you’ I heard rue,
if only you knew.
When your essence remained within me as a shadow,
fused with the darkness of abyss of my heart hollow,
how many candles my love had lighted there for you,
if only you knew.
___________________
August : 25, 2019
For A Brian Strand Rime Contest
Copyright © Subimal Sinha-Roy | Year Posted 2019
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