Poetry

December 31, 2015 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

By

Jyotirmoy Mallik

 

 

The Hunter

 

 

Deep down your heart, the hunter lives.

He enjoys an occasional kill with his gun

Not for food, but just for its sheer fun

He finds his pleasure in that bloodshed,

Like being messy while painting in red.

In agony, like tragedy drama being staged.

In cry, like music with his eyes quite dry.

He knows not a word of love, the beast

He cares for the soft deer meat and feast

Don’t you wake him up, let him just rest

Else it crawls to head through your chest

Kills it all that comes against or on road

you won’t be good to withstand its load

So let’s avoid him, and let the life by pass

Else he shoots you and that’s what he does

 

 

 

 

Date

 

 

1.

I met thee with tears

Soothing calm tears

Took them long to travel

Now tiered, won’t even come out

Under the lids, resting

 

2.

Thou won’t be mine, I knew

Was on thy eyes

Perhaps so is good

He won’t experience thy absence

Where I feel thee more

 

3.

Thou left ceremoniously

We celebrated departure with a shared smoke

Thou thought it was an excuse to taste your lips

Arguably, it was a funeral of my burning desires

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jyotirmoy Mallik

Jyotirmoy Mallik is an Indian poet who writes mostly in his mother tongue, Bengali. Occasionally, he tries his verses in English. He publishes regularly in “Little Magazines” and online magazines. He is currently working on his first book “Sondhi-Bichched” (Poems about union and separation)  to be published in Bengali. He runs his popular facebook poetry page  which is regularly visited by a number of poetry lovers.  If you want to read more of his verses please be in touch with him in facebook. Professionally, he is is a Geologist working in an “Oil and Natural Gas” multinational company in the Netherlands.

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