Poetryzine magazine presents the selected poems by the Indian poet Anjil Sardar
Leave in the morning
If you leave,
Leave now, before the time enters the post Meridium phase,
When it's morning, my pre-conditioned nerves reject to stimulate benevolent senses, as it passes through rough nights, dwelling into a mystical world away from the harsh reality, I choke from within, resisting any feeling that swings on its way,
But I do mind, leaving you in the evening, though have a genuine cause,
Just after the twilight
a collective of yellowish and pinkish shades when creates a delusion, upon the sky, beneath, or might be close just under the clouds, which I could not afford to miss, from my lonely terrace, crippling my vision, which complies the next sessions of these wonderful evening paradigms, oil painted with melancholy
As if all the lost souls, who endeavored for years, maybe for decades, enduring all the failures, hatred, demotions of livelihood possessed by evil merchants
Crying to get free from their regret, they could not express.
A heavy outburst of self-realization.
Numbed eyes of mine, see black and white, might be sepia-toned
Rolling the wrongs all through the following hours, am not mine
On those times
control I did not have on me, still now, till this date
Don't leave me in the evening
Here on my vast balcony, with beer bottle vases planted with petunia and other flowering creepers, hanging from the ceiling, a grass lawn and an ashtray on a wooden table, smoked my life has been, when you left me
But the grass lawn has your scent, the French perfume, you put to enhance my nostril, which eventually hits into my brains
I miss your smell and kiss our fresh memories
Every afternoon
Just after the twilight
On my lonely terrace
Just let me know before you leave me in the evening, cause I fear my senses that depends, not on mine
Off the plastic world
Nothing can change the truth, still, we live and pass by all
those goods and accurately denied and paid a lot more than we sublimed
Change in my cloth
Change in my mind
Shaking, and trembling all the ruins, and shrines
Nothing changed till time
Maybe am scared and ripped
Maybe you all set it down
Nothing hostile your belief
This world in my eyes is gone, alone I see
True, that no one able to find their flesh and bones,
While being in this storm, blinded and charmed
Engaged and trapped
Help us to get off from this plastic world
Trenches are back to life
Scarfed around the lies
Brooding on the skills to survive
Nothing can kill the thirst, as lust complies, from the dirty hands to the unkind mind
Everything starts from the past, all the hides are now widened, but stones they thrive
Maybe you thought this would be the same
Lying motionless, against the gray,
Something's when inert, try to find a way
Brooding about the odds, and push back from the start,
Trenchant mind-storm
appeals to bisect my soul,
As a split-screen, on a plastic cell phone
True, that no one able to find their flesh and bones,
While being in this storm, blinded and charmed
Engaged and trapped
Help us to get off from this plastic world
There the thought lies
There the thought lies, when the dead man receives condolences from grief-stricken, empathetic souls, at that very moment, among the onlookers, in them the thought arise,
For decayed, it continues, no prisoners of war, all are happy with what it's worth, no pity for regulars, boorish along
At this point of time, on this very venue, the thought rises among others too, tough and rough, hard and unadjusted, astonishment on calm nerves
There the thought lies
Hued low, skilled all blacks, safeguarding their reserved zones, mass got mistreated, Lies, all over the air, no eyes are nice
Who started the war? Knows the end
But the ones who lead the dirt to let
Inch by inch, the words of honor faded
Here it goes as a loop of the vinyl
I see a confused mass, resisting self-developed thoughts
Here I see no unity
I close my window, no more beauty to see
Running all over, all through the pages
I could not find you, being in the same bed, in the late afternoons
Days changed as fast as mind and people
Folks ones will unity
Might end these days
These words are true, for me, for you,
I beheld a lot, whiskers and carpers
Leaving their homes, cause they in the city and towns burning smoke and, killing, noises of grenades and machine-gun ammunition chains
There the thought lies, when the dead man receives condolences from grief-stricken, empathetic souls, at that very moment, among the onlookers, in them the thought arise,
For decayed, it continues, no prisoners of war, all are happy with what it worths, no pity for regulars, boorish along
At this point of time, on this very venue, the thought rises among others too, tough and rough, hard and unadjusted, astonishment on calm nerves
There the thought lies
Fragile world
Break the fragile world
Untrue, it has been for years
Made us believe, stolen our faith
And written its chapters, keeping no stake
So when the day came, it did not need me more
Then used to be, winters are diabolic
This phase, all I have now, at least
Something to remind, you pass me by
You blinked an eye, I have seen you then
On a freezing winter
Passing by, let me light the candle
Let that be my pride
Cold fingertips of mine, could not light up a fire
The fragile world hides behind the shivering moon
This world latched onto lies, lies
All I ever cared for just a walk around this life
Exploring all the doors, the sun did not help, at night blossom like a moon
Starving someone to hide
Every little piece is arranged, alright
I may be forgetting the ways
To break through a point,
To make a home, following the act of an eye
A slit throat in a war, a broken vase in my room’s corner
Already my brain messing me upon my calls
Screams and echoes amplifying in my head
Take a little breath, take a breath
Your tone has eventually modeled and lowered down
Am not ailing further, for me this silence is golden
Cold fingertips of mine, could not light up a fire
The fragile world hides behind the shivering moon
This world latched onto lies, lies
When you left It's been five or six days you left your birthplace
And such tragedy occurred
I can't cry seeing you in saline
I can't see you having difficulty in breathing
It's been five or six days you left your birthplace
And shadow of my ignorance has overpowered your life
Just at night yesterday
When I have seen you struggling to keep up with life
I rushed to my mother
When I have seen you struggling to climb down the stares from the second floor
I took you cautiously in the boat formed by my own arms
It's been five or six days you left your birthplace
Your lifespan suddenly becomes uncertain
Try to fight the broken bones and your noisy nose
Filled with cough all through the years
You were born sick, but I accepted it
As well as your brothers and mother
It's been five or six days you left your birthplace
I started blaming myself
Keep breathing, try to get back Into life
Cause I have planned something bigger with you and you all
My life is not precious, when there ain't no you
Being just a pawn of god the poet has endeavored to create a world of delusion with his words, blended with truth and reality on the ground. He has nothing much, but a pen and a notebook and thousands of thoughts circling through his blood and veins. The words might not be rhyming, but his life has been much alarming. The poet has been daunted by the darkest times, and hear what you have, some extraordinary emotions, that will obsess you, possess you, and stay with you forever, maybe!
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