১৭ মাঘ ১৪১৮ বুধবার ১ ফেব্রুয়ারি ২০১২

::: cPoems / Chatty-poems by Nikhil Kumar Sarkar (1948)

THE EVENING

No light. Not dark even.

Mysterious waves at every turn. Flowing mystic hints.

Beauty-Flavour-Aroma. Dreamy-symphony.

Din. Glib. Evening.

Morn. Noon. Afternoon. Engrossed.

All three- travellers of the evening. Disguised.

Taking lessons from waves. Vague lessons.

Lessons. Wistful. Dipping into the dreams. Floating also.

Dreams. Threadless. Naturally.

Only nudity can face up to the dream. As usual.

A lick the fair-salt of the dream's body. The evening knows.

Evening's greenroom. Hidden mirror.

Reflected. Bare. All. Morn noon and afternoon.

Sending SMS to their dream numbers. SMS in the evening terms.

The evening terms. Darkness. That's light.

Expanding. Gradually.

Towards midnight.

THE MIDNIGHT

The door of darkness. Wide open. Midnight.

Male-word. Word-female. Penetrating. Singly or more.

Nocturnal essence in every word. Seductive.

Spreading.

Something may be. Must be at least.

Some stanzas. Yet to complete. Yet to bloom. 

Yet to reach the market by the last train. 

Market of flower. 

Some petals. Colours. Odours. Incomplete. Saved

in the dark disk of night.

Probably be deleted. Not be bloomed. Never.

Sleeping earth. Some lights solitary. Sleepless.

And some darkness close to such lights. Eagerly

expectant. Deer-odoured.

There's a door amidst the vacuum between light and dark.

The door of dreams. Wide open. something may be.

Must be at least.