Surabhi Bhattacharjee

 

 

(India)

 

 

 

NEVER KNEW WHY?

 

I never knew

why

I plucked

you

from the secrets

of

my own blues

And

you remember

our silence

that wait

endlessly wait

with

few birds

kitchen smoke

two red and black ants

inside two red and black short rooms.

 

One boiled

with

poetry,language and smokey eyes

another mute through

years of silence

turned into purple to violet

under high colour skin

 

And

I never knew

why plucked

you

under these

blank lines

where

ink contained

you…

 

 

 

ALLEYS THAT I LEAVE 

 

If legend come alive to a dreamer

eyes are fixed in it with glad surprise

so many years ago

it was an afternoon like today, I had sat many times before

beside my old chair, I had open my notebooks

found the names I had written

no more today

 

I turned my face over the darkness of my room

now I can’t remember

when cattle crossed the road, wagons quickened on the streets

Two butterflies went out at noon, and a spider sewed at night.

Cuckoo’s walking on summer’s melodies, jewel led with raindrops and mango tress

just try to think nine years old girls

with whom I used to play  »dollhouse »

where my loved ones dwell

try to write it down

the love that i have known.

 

These days

sometimes they just

move in my mind

a little by little.

 

Life that my life seeks

couldn’t meet it at all

so I went back to where i was

beside the same chair

without a word ,waiting for

legend come alive to a dreamer…

 

 

 

IN SEARCH OF WARMTH

 

Words I never spoke

supposing you would hear

words I never heard

supposing you would speak .

 

In search of warmth

I enter a cafe

swig a mouthful from the steaming cup

and gaze through the piece of window

at the outer screen world .

But only your visions

weave

drunkenly

weave

within and without

where burning memories kept secret

between memory and forgetfulness.

 

In the vastness of universe

my words split

like isotopes.

My presence, my situation

and my very nature class

smash, scatter into smithereens.

 

Where I hold all this is

     my own life

          remains with me

               hanging on my own wall.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

____________________________________________

 

Short BIO

 

Surabhi Bhattacharjee, founder and Editor-In-Chief of  »ASIAN-SIGNATURE ».

 

She is a Research scholar, emerging poet, writer, essayist, activist and translator.

 

Her works maintain focus on social issues, linguistic identity and feminism. Her articles and poems have been profiled in several international newspaper and magazines.

 

She likes Nature and spirituality.

 

 

http://deeps-creativemind.blogspot.fr/2012/07/sin-poet-anupam-naskar-translate-by.html

http://imaginationofform.wordpress.com/2011/10/26/surabhi-bhattacharjee/

 

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