October 9, 2015 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION


Pijush Kanti Deb



A Lover’s Generosity



Love upgrades a man into a God

but I am downgraded

on the contrary

into a parasol

from a man of blood and flesh

yet me and my generosity

are well contented feeling my self worth

full to my beloved at least.

She lifts me on her head

and makes me blissful

finding her domain

beneath my soft shadow,

she conceals me in her office-bag

and makes me sporting

thinking she plays hide and seek with me,

she warns her rivals

showing my toughness

and makes me proud

assuming myself a hero

to safe-guard her,

she throws me in the dustbin

and makes me pleased

believing my weakness

is hazardous for her

and finally

she brings a clone of me

but makes me worried

suspecting the degree

of the clone’s generosity.






A Graveyard for the Truth



A veteran tongue suddenly wakes up

feeling a nose sneering bitter taste

and hearing a suspicious whispering

inside its home – the body

as if

something is trying to float up to it

from the bottom of the heart,

and checks again

the closed gate of lips

up as a precaution,

knowing it’s the traversing

of a hazardous truth trying

to be shot out by its cannon

targeting the ears

and hearts of others

to fill their lives with hesitations

and confusions and

so it remains unmindful

to the outside where

a series of requests and warnings

trying to open the lips

but inside the heart

at the same time

starts digging a graveyard

for the truth

saying “Truth is accused of stealing my sweetness”







A Hard Heart



A hard heart feels no hesitation

to gulp the soft memory down

and happy even to digest its existence.

Hence its nectar is forgotten

and forgotten is its usefulness

in using the used and unused

for making life useful

to the careful users,

forgotten is its artistic embellishment

with the divine tools

in collocating itself

with the vast sky and rich ocean,

forgotten is its melodious palpitation too

to maintain a corresponding rhythm

with the song of life,

“Live and let live”


Only the devil’s workshop

is remembered,

remembered is the glittering

of its products

and the harsh

reverberating laughing

of the Devil

at the tears of its injured

Cardinal values.









Pijush Kanti Deb

Pijush Kanti Deb is a new Indian poet with around 252 published or accepted poems and haiku in around 81 editions of national and international magazines and journals, print and online, such as ;Down in the Dirt’, ‘Tajmahal Review’, ‘Pennine Ink’, ‘Hollow Publishing’, ‘Creativica Magazine’, ‘Muse India’, ‘Teeth Dream Magazine’, ‘Hermes Poetry Journal’, ‘Madusa’s Kitchen’ ,’Grey Borders’, ‘Dead Snakes’, ‘Dagda Publishing’, ‘Blognostic’ and many more.

His best achievement so far is the publication of his first poetry collection,’Beneath The Shadow Of A White Pigeon’ published by Hollow Publishing and available on AMAZON.


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