To all things beautiful...

To all things

beautiful,

how I wish

your shimmer

would freeze

and not flow away...

How I wish

the clock would

stop for us—

frozen. Still

in beauty

the colour

of my rage

would turn

a shade more mellow.

Yet the candle

burns and the

wax lies in a

pool of memories—

the shimmer flew by

just a flickering

black shadow, can

I have it back please?

Anirban Kapil Baishya(2/4/2012)

This is how we died

The sun came down

and hit the ground,

everything turned black

and now wer'e back—

back to how we died.

The moon rose up and

broke the cup,

spilling silver light

poisoned the night

and this is how we died.

The fire died out

and raised a doubt,

wer'e really alone,

no one on the other side

of the phone,

so that is how we died.

So the writers wrote

on a sinking boat,

their words washed away

like the memory of the day,

and that is how we died.

So that is how we died,

and no one cried,

because there was

no one left,to

mind the theft,

the theft of our lives—

because that is how

they all died.

And if you think

there's nothing worse,

than this morbidly

silly verse,

then your'e only

trying to hide,

because that is

how you died.

Anirban Kapil Baishya(2/4/2012)

Afterlife

Face,

lost in the

flurry of the

digital storm...

The giant

family, now

multiplies

in hyper swarm.

Yesterday, you

would be only a

faded photograph—

now we transcend

tombstone and

epitaph.

Tomorrow, your

flesh will no

longer be,

the soul encaged

shall be set free.

Yet though not

in any place,

afterlife shall be

the promise of

a digital trace.

Anirban Kapil Baishya (30/3/2012)

Innocence

What does it mean

to be nowhere?

Can you tell me,

where?

What does it mean,

to be nobody?

Would "me" be

different without one?

What does it mean?

Innocence—

When you cannot

make sense

out of it...

Anirban Kapil Baishya(27/3/2012)

HEAVEN

Heaven's just

a few blocks away

from where i live—

fenced in barbed wire,

its fruits are

too far away

to taste.

Inside, there's music,

the bricks that

build up the wall

of my dreams—

but for us here,

the sound of laughter

comes at the price

of our souls.

Here, in our

neighbourhood,

light means only

the harsh stare

of sixty watt bulbs—

evenings,lifetimes,

spent under its

blinding glare.

Bleak walls speak

through generations

of grime and dust—

their voices gone

hoarse from praying.

Down here—where i live,

Life means the place

everybody wants to leave.

East of us, where sunlight is—

music, friends, laughter—

heaven—the place

that never is.

Anirban Kapil Baishya(27/3/2012)

Arrival

Things have

changed,

the people are

strange—

they dont

recognize my

face anymore.

The grass was

green, like

nothing youv'e

seen—

now all I

have are

these pills

and a broken

floor.

Things have

changed,

these things are

strange...

the sole of my

soul awaits,

tattered alone...

it seems like

not too long ago,

your arrival was

a footstep

on cold

cobblestone.

Anirban Kapil Baishya (26/3/2012)

If only time meant soft clocks...

Infinite this,infernal

infallibility,inferential hell...

I might as well.

Paint the colour of time,

skeleton of the universe,

each day's a hearse.

Night,a funeral

for the dying day...

I have to say.

There is no love, no above;

Just an infinitely infinite

circle---infernal, sublime,

You and I, forever drowning

in the cruel tides of time.

Anirban Kapil Baishya (11/3/2012)