By: Pijush Kanti Deb
“The Lines are in turning mode”
stand face to face
keeping their eyes and hearts open
they intent to intersect one another
the epi-center of their pain and gain
the Sun and the other ancillaries are still
happy to be blind.
Why the other Lines are not visible?
Why the equi-lines are repulsive?
The dreadful desease
keeps all the individual Lines
in turning mode
enabling them to watch only
the ever-hanging tongues
of their own flexible pencils.
My wise shamefulness
Hunger and thirst are well tarnished
upto my favorite shamefulness
and these are got trained too
to irrigate my due smile.
It is really suffocating and painful
yet my chest is puffed up
when recognition comes forward
to award me as an honest man.
The days are well compromised
but the nights-the heartless critics,
make me unhappy
pointing at my dwarf hands and feet,
proclaiming my compelled incapability
to jump high
and to pluck all the prohibited fruits off
and asking me too
I can give up the best feature of my life-
my wise shamefulness.
Interchange of the masters
I am ever cautious of the cat-
lying on your lap along with its hidden claws.
If I am not wrong at all
you too are watchful at my dog-
moving around my feet
and barking at your cat.
A dual is inevitable between you and me
yet we never call for it
we are careful of extending our tea hour
to decade or more
a rational interchange of the masters
of our cat and dog
and now my eyes are fearless to kiss
your awesome fingers
though emblished with sharp nails.