Poems by Ajit Kumar Roy

To The Poet

Shake the world again and again, oh poet
Let all rubbish drop down, let all know your energy
You’ve got a hoe in hand, uproot the weeds
Water the flowers in you, smell them

A poet can be enchained, but not poetry
You know this soil, man, nature and the universe
You are introspective and can remove darkness
It’s you that have to build up
A new tomorrow

What for?

Ready to fly
But left out are a lot
I don’t know the reward
But know I do something
Never lie long for nothing

Ready to fly
But left out are a lot
A lot for what?
Why do? Wherefore?
I must have to fly
Have to leave the warm,
The cool, the indifferent
Yet consider something’s
Left out
What’s this dutifulness for?
What does this thirst mean?
What for?

I’ve to fly one day, I know
All know, but everybody
keeps doing
A lot are left out yet
But I’m ready to fly when it’s
Time
I’m ready to fly

I’ve to leave, my men

Now I’ve to leave
I’ve to leave
After so many smiles, weeps
And grievances
It’s I that was happy to offer all
And be a destitute
But I had to look for a small block
To fall back on

Now I’ve to leave
So much I’ve offered
So much I’ve toiled to brush up,
Blaze and boost up
I gave all and all
Some could get it, some not
What possess I to move on
Where is light for my dark way
Where is the goal

I’ve be away
Be in peace you all
Friends, brethren, particles of blood
Don’t while away your time
In lazy gossips and sleeps
The world awaits much from new
Leaves, new buds, new storms
I’ve to be away
I’ve to leave my men

Nothingness

I won’t theorize any more
I’ll just embrace what is green, white
Vivacious and not dry
What boots it? What of that?
I won’t question any more
Just hug particles of time, whatsoever,
Wheresoever

Why theorize so much? Why?
Why question and question? Why?
All’s boring!
Why dispute? Why debate? Why quarrel?
Just quench my sight and soul
And part when it’s time
Why theorize? Why question? Why? Why?
What boots it?

Rejoice

Now I’ll play with new sun
I’ll play on my Spanish guitar
None shall be hurt by me
My tunes are to hug all and sundry
Why moan over what is inevitable
Why moan over dry leaves and petals

How much has anyone got?
How much time?
How far traverses he?
Why moan? Why not rejoice?
Valuable is what we get
Valuable is every wink of the day
Every note of tune is precious
Every particle of the creation is
Worthless but important
Why not play with new sun
Rejoice with all and sundry
I’ll rejoice to the last.