THE CLEANER

Trash here and dirt over there
all around with smell so foul.

He always sweeps the road truly fair

while unsound minds with words prowl.

Taking all in his stride, no protest

no holidays, even during heavy rain.

He heartily tries to give his best, but

couldn't clean the souls of unclean men.

Waste in van and smile on his face

he does his part from morn to noon.

Pays no heed, couldn't care less,

his zeal shows he won't give so soon.

Prasenjit©1997-2020

KILLING A DREAM

Sometimes I dream a dream

in the darkest of the dark days.

Sailing towards a golden rim

in the brightest of night, always!

I see just the best in a dream

that did not happen with open eyes.

Tears from clouds, then a shiny gleam

awakening me as a new day arise.

Dream is like a toddler - free of guilt,

innocent and free in a sweet dream.

We stand on what we have built,

that which is rugged, tall and grim.

A dream that follows kills the other

while I had high hopes for this dream.

Wished to have stayed with this rather,

and sail together like an eternal team.

The life of my beautiful dreams

are like diamond dews on the leaves.

Together we are so  it seems

me and my lonliness - alone it grieves.

What if my dreams would be true,

and life itself be an unending dream?

Life would be made of a lovely hue,

and this dream would live in my dream!

Prasenjit©1997-2020

THE PRIEST

As far as my memory recall

I remember a priest robed in white.

who talked to God for the commoners all

and did that with dedication and might.

A noble soul and surely His pride

whose heart was bigger than the temple gate.

The priest gave relief to those who cried,

the helpless who can't change their fate.

Tirelessly he worked from dawn to night

and never thought about his own.

He eased those who were in plight

and this was how he was known.

A decade passed and he was feeble and old

but he was spirited like the yesteryears.

He had his charm in being bold

and his virtue removed all his fears.

People were pleased and so were the Gods

whom he served with his faith and trust.

A heavenly soul who battled all odds

and in worldly deceits he did not rust.

He was the Hand of God, an angelic guide

whose words and touch healed men.

With time he took to bed, people by his side

and I believe one day he would come again.

Prasenjit©1997-2020

THE NEST

Just above my window's shade
and beneath the beam of the roof,

two sparrows had its nest made

to live in peace and remain aloof.

One bought the leaves and twigs,

while the other sat on the window rim.

Sometimes they plucked the ripe figs

being the masters of their own whim.

Slowly the nest turned into a home

which they made thru' day and night.

Strands of grass they had to comb

which they did with all their might.

They used to chirp all the time

be it dawn, noon or dusk.

Perhaps they had a certain rhyme

that my mind was eager to ask.

Quite sometime had passed by then

they became parents - very proud.

Seasons flew, it was time to rain

their home by now a velvety shroud.

Time rolled by and winter came

the innocent chirps got louder still.

Nature had played its glorious game, and

the babies are now on the window grill!

Prasenjit©1997-2020

THE COWARD

 Jimmy was the youngest of all

and as innocent as he could be.

For others' fault he took the fall,

with bowed head he accepted destiny.

Jimmy was a lad of mere thirteen

and mocked by all as a coward.

He wanted to be free and clean

and roam the world as a free bird.

No one listens to a poor man's child

however innocent he may have been.

For missing money the owner went wild

Jimmy pleaded but couldn't come clean.

The stolen items was never found

still they abused his widowed mother.

The world seemed stopped going round,

No protest! He stayed a coward rather.

They threw him out of town

and burned down his house.

While the thief did not go down

Jimmy the coward fled like a mouse.

Time passed and Jimmy was forgotten

and also his mother left the world.

This cruel world was already rotten,

the time was ripe to be unfurled.

Jimmy by now was twenty four

feared through Texas by one and all.

An outlaw with rage and roar, and

a messiah on the poor man's call.

One day Jimmy rode into town

saddled in with his bandit men.

The onlookers' gaze sunk in frown

and Jimmy knew it was not in vain.

People whispered in gripped fear

while Jimmy walked towards his place.

Wept on his knees, eyes filled with tear

while his fiery bandits stood in grace.

The thief now older, came near him

while the town now stood still.

Jimmy looked back cold and grim

told his name and sent down a chill.

Jimmy dealt a blazing blow,

and the guilty hit the earth.

he looked up so they would know

he is back to claim his rightful birth.

While tears moistened his eyes

something in him burned like hell

A decade long fury in disguise

people from his face could tell.

Vengeance flowed, he went for the kill

and like the past people stood still.

'I am Jimmy', they heard him roar

innocent at heart but a coward no more!

Prasenjit©1997-2020

INDOMITABLE SPIRIT

I may not go down in memory,

as a person - 'so good and all'

You may smear me in the dirt,

But I have the spine to take the fall.

You have your bitter twisted lies,

that made the white turn grey.

Your hidden sins like hyena's cries,

will bring into fold those astray.

You may beat me and put me down,

But I will never be beneath your feet.

My indomitable spirit is my crown,

me and my conscience - a kingly treat!

Those who punched, wanted me broken,

may know with certainty and surprise.

Like the sun and tides as a token,

I may fall and crawl but I will surely rise!

You packed a punch, broke my jaw,

made blood splatter over my face.

My smile - threw you in shock and awe,

I fell on my knees but not from grace.

You may bleed me with your words,

and try to pierce me with your eyes.

You may stab me like the cowards,

clinging to my conscience - I will surely rise!

I feel sorry for those tired by now,

in each step those that maligned me.

They are pondering with a crooked brow,

as to how I am still standing free!

Your pretense and scorn will burn your soul,

while like molten gold I will shine.

I am no further from my goal,

While you plot, hate and gloomily whine!

Prasenjit©1997-2020

KARGIL

Quite many years ago,
now its nearly a score.
many families had to forego,
the lions of the soil, their roar.

Stony, dusty, a steep terrain,
devoid of greenery and rain.
Like yesteryear the trust broke,
they crossed over in a winter stroke.

Sons, fathers, mothers - all suffered,
by betrayal, the ground stained as rumoured.
Wrapped in Tricolour, they came back,
while for honour our men pushed on track.

For duty, with courage they bravely fought,
many took the bullets while some did not.
The Nation bathed in glory and red,
while the devil stabbed us in dark and shade.

Some martyred in bits and pieces,
the story of our patriots as one traces.
The fair souls did their part,
being on the vigil for us - always alert.




Prasenjit©1997-2020

IRONY

The sun is up and yet it is dark to see,
it seems darker, dark as it could be.
They say light for all, light is free.
The dark is glowing! All around it pinches me.

The moon is up in its silvery delight,
why in the calmest of calm is an urge to fight?
In its bright glow, I see an abyss in dark,
where angels carefully tread and devils do lurk.

While rain fell upon the lush green,
some patches of sand remained dry.
Nature seemed oblivious, cruel and mean,
while tears dried up in a hollow cry.

Prasenjit©1997-2020

REPENTANCE

The blue sky is more bluer,
and the birds are flying higher.
Like jet-streams above trees,
full of life and no worries.

I wonder how it feels above,
for the sailing white dove.
Gleefully stretching its wings,
above clouds on Northern winds.

The eagle with a majestic curve,
pierces the sky and then a swerve.
Really no worries, really really no,
as it darts towards the earth below.

There is a skein on the ground,
overhead a swarm buzzing abound.
Family of some tramping geese,
and a dark veil of honey bees.

Street dogs! On the streets,
now routinely no human greets.
With keen sense they do wonder,
how humans did this blunder.

The mummy cat and its litter,
now does not cut across path.
Hue of Men now sans the glitter,
caged itself by Nature's wrath.

Towards a grey world now headed,
blindly trudged as none dreaded.
Nature lashed at us with its fury,
in isolating self by The Jury.

Now barred behind our own bars,
we who bragged stepping on Mars.
Brought to our knees so soon,
who once said to have landed on moon.

The ones who till now played God,
did not foresee turning of the wheel.
Right from dawn did foolishly trod,
with wrongdoings and broken deal.

As a mother forgiving the prodigal son,
being repentant returns to her fold.
We still can undo, else there will be none,
to relate our history and memoirs of old.


Prasenjit©1997-2020