I’m a Bengali in sombrero
An Indian from Kolkata
I live at a stone’s throw
From where flows the Ganga.

I speak in Bengalee
For me the sweetest language
Like the Ganga flows freely
Has Sanskrit as lineage.

Rice is my staple food
So are dal and fish
A cup of tea is too good
With two biscuits on a dish.

Around me spreads green countryside
Where grows all the foodgrain
Rivers flow wild and wide
Their banks home joy and pain.

I was born and reared in this riparian land
Where soil is tilled in peasants’ sweat
Sparkles in moon the Bay’s white sand
Weaving dreams for many a poet!

True religion
begins in the heart

The heart is the ruling power of manhood

You can enlighten the
understanding of man

But if his heart is wrong
the understanding only enables him to sin with a greater disregard for the responsibility resting upon him .

A poem is an evening
When dark falls
The evening meal is served
Packed with emotions
Dessert is the ending
Feelings of warmth
Feelings of friendships
A poem is words
From the heart
It conveys
A beautiful start
A poem is an evening

do you ever get sick of hearing
“I’ve never met anyone like you”
the way it rolls off their tongue
Like quarters in a roll
because
“I haven’t laughed like that with anyone in so long”
and I have to wonder
Why it feels no different to me
than an average
really no different
Tuesday

Created a world
just for me
Not for you
don’t you see,
Not letting you in
Your a parasite,
Your so twisted
Your just not right,
I know your beautiful
So voluptuous in red
But if I let you in
I will wind up dead.
Go away and
Leave me be
You are a beauty
But not for me,
Your to infectious
This is not your day
Im taking the pills
Now stay away.

I find myself in the wild,
Sedate out of the blue.

I don't know how,
Idon't know why.

I'm just stunned,
Can't comprehend life or death.

Where did I go wrong?
Am I this stupid?

My feeling is firm,
Nothing can break it.

But what is this
strange feeling?

I think I'm loosing
bit by bit I'm loosing.