A Smile Please
Pranab k c
19/05/2011
Death alone can make us socialist
Life means fascism...
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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Just A Confession
don't ask me why
better transmit heat
encircles winter here
Pranab k c
12/2011
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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Stupidity
Take a knife long and sharp
hold it just below your chin
and...
Do it yourself
that will be better
than waiting callously
Pranab k c
11/09/2011
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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Death means Love means
Death means freedom
Love means pain
Which would you choose?
Death means rest peacefully
Love means restless motion
Which would be comfortable?
Death means life
love means death to the heart
Which one would you want?
Death means everlasting happiness
Love means confusion
Which would be more rich?
Death means rejoice with loved ones
Love means losing someone
Which would be better?
Death means peaceful dreams for forever
Love means fear of nightmares
Which would you perfer?
poem by Desserray Whitcomb
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A Play Ground
Pranab k c
08/2011
A face
Sometimes replicates
A wide ground
To play
To fall
To break our legs
A face just like a
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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The strategic adversary is fascism... the fascism in us all, in our heads and in our everyday behavior, the fascism that causes us to love power, to desire the very thing that dominates and exploits us.
quote by Michel Foucault
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dreams She Death
flowers not my choice
when entered her dream
dreamt already two times my death
ajointly tried to bark
a street dog to know the surroundings
life means desperate living
tends to death every time
fire not my choice
while bowl of beans
yesterday boiling
perfumed agony
its intense sucking effort
from soil to leaf no fire but agitation
dreamt already two times my death
when entered her boiling point
we adament nongellic angels
blew the heat without fire from soul to serenity
but the fathom she opened when petals are smashed
real death the furnace whistled the steam
mutiny embarked with galloping thrust
not able to be one
not able to be one
no flower
no fire
no living
no swim
dreamt two times my death mean time
when I entered her dream
Pranab k c
10/03/2012
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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Sunil Ganguly Is Dead
death is an end
end of a global journey
an end of an unfinished book...
Pranab k c
23/10/2012
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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Forgotten Fertility Myth
Pranab k c
27/06/2011
a deep depression
carries monsoon again
its raining
five days at a stretch
day and night
she is wet
her chastity
waiting to be ploughed
soil so soft
to be mould in creation
plough hard
my peasant friend
pour dropp to form seed
your personal rain
would make her corny
every dream
of your personal cloud
would make her smile festive
fertile soil seeks seedling
cultivate you the peasant
cultivate hard
cultivate with care
cultivate with unending passion
She waits to bear all the pain
for a pleasure of exposing a life again
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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Blade Is A Space
Between life and death
Awaits a blade
And a man awaits in decision
The midnight
The stars above
Awaits with a loud laughter
To cheer up the defeat...
Pranab k c
Edited on 01/08/2012
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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Attention Please
Pranab k c
08/2011
Promised to come our home field river sea cloud snow
Promised to appear blowing your sacred apron
white with mystic mist of thousand sun shining random
Promised to uphold all our conspiracy greed strong grip to snatch
last coin from distressed, last shelter from the homeless
virgin soil cracked and crushed by treasure monger
Promised to taught us love
Promised to give us light
Promised to take us away from death to life
Promised but failed to keep
failed and have been punished
as we the son and daughter of you
we have been directed to carry out order
painful to bear such hell on shoulder
since we the human never tried to be a God..
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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A Journey Beyond Death
Pranab k c
08/2011
So nervous were my eyes
when I saw my body lied in sleep
A sweet and soft moonlight everywhere
from ocean to mountain
from meadows to graveyard
walls, roof and floor are out of existence
a light soft and sweet flowing everywhere
So nervous was my memory
can't recollect the finest tune of life
I heard so long ago before my death
can't recollect
Yet alive I was but just out of me
the body in deep sleep and I
flying without feather everywhere
from ditch to dense
from narrow to wide
no heaven, no hell
only sweet and soft light white
everywhere, in every inch of all the imagery...
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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Venom
a silent alley
a girl enters at dawn
leaves at midnight
a silent alley
a man sits silently
to swim time endlessly
a silent passion
always seeks a chance
Pranab k c
11/09/2011
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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Offering As An Ignorant
The tune
You tuned
At the time
Of my birth
Cryingly I find
To harmonize
My living
My love
My journey
To make its end
The tune
You tuned
I listen in the wind
The dream sends the signal
Yet the life the present the past
The seeker I ever unrest
Unsettled to synchronize
Me with the chariot
The rein you hold
Yourself yet to path unending
After death
After...after....
The song I have to sung
For the final return!
Pranab k c
21/06/2012
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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Disingenuousness
Here lies another box for nature,
Carbon ready;
Black to eyes down here,
Where death is at its job.
Up there you’ll hear a rhythmic sob
Or two from living yet-to-dies –
A humming lacrimoso –
It all but cleans the eyes:
Forget it –
The dismal show of grief –
Life is only chemistry –
Our stay is only brief.
It’s we who hype it up!
Diaphragms jerk again;
The jet monotone of hearses
Feeds the disingenuousness
Of undertakers –
They seem to stare at something up ahead –
For them, it’s in the blood,
To taxi off the dead.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
The March of Death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Paradox of Practicality
practicality ignites futile dodges
impracticality arbitrates soul to high
wide emancipation pledges the life
to feel to fly where none gone before
here you hang on clear impurity
mutiny begins when practical lost charms
again effect kills cause when causes are planned
every pure is pulp of uncertain vibrant
know not how to follow
the heart with the dream
where dream means the unreal
shows the real from forbidden!
Pranab k c
30/01/11
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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Best Poem
the best poem
I have ever read
a white sheet
unworded
unspot the child
brought me once
to make a boat
Pranab k c
09/08/2012
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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Death-Statement
Death has no color at all yet
you the liar
the poet and painter
tried to make me convinced
much colorful journey to anchor
whenever the gossip begins
you cried with enthusiastic arrogance
to simply the eternity infinity
with its gorgeous act to guide the chariot
blunt bogus the orthodox maniac
never tried to catch the origin
by dying you own
words and brushes
many times illustrate
a deep romantic ambiance
as if
death is the destiny to grab
with heroic passion
liar you are
I don't believe you
the poet and painter
you only know the way to
tremendous self-suffering
to enjoy death every moment
actually you don't live
live your ideas...
Pranab k c
03/09/2012
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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We seem to be a long way off from the kind of Fascism which we behold in Italy today, but we are not so far from the kind of Fascism which Mussolini preached in Italy before he assumed power, and we are slowly approaching the conditions which made Fascism there possible.
quote by John T. Flynn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Track Of Loneliness
silence plays no pleasing ride
not chaos
a lonely track of befusing
to its last breath
runs simply to make its ruin
man means money
if society you follow
the charm to chariot
meaningless to put its meaning
beyond these the busy track
locates you with definite arrow
day seeks hide
to nights apron
night flows
as stream follows unknown source
the silent origin
but to me
wind blows high
the depth of departing clock
ticks no talk
since its ultimate lock
deadly exists to stupidity
encircled orbit of life and death
lower much lower the templing shadow
the tomb looks high to touch
that sovereign savor
creates or createless
static tranquil
silence plays no good
no chaos plays the evil
the shadow and snobbery
high the hell dreaming the heavn of beauty
man means money
whether alive or dead
dip or drop
saint or salient
the track of loneliness
follows you
to its extreme....
Pranab k c
28/09/2012
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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War Means
War Means death
War Means destruction
War Means fire
War Means bombing
War Means sorrow
War Means turmoil
War Means tears
War Means guns
War Means blood
War Means confusion
War Means explosions
War Means mutilation
War Means sickness
War Means killing
War Means occupation
War Means loss
And lots more
But after one side
Or the other side
Has finally had enough
And lays down their arms
To surrender and give up
War Means Peace
poem by Brie Carter
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