Poetry

  • Pigeon In The House

    Once upon a time, not too long ago, I had a small pet pigeon- he was a little fat, though. He used to come through my window sill, sit on its perch, Every day he’d be there, you didn’t have to search!   He spoke all day of its deeds from the past, Things which… Continue reading

  • Vultures.

    Down to the wire, I wanted water but I’ll walk through the fire, If this is what it takes to take me even higher, Then I’ll come through, like I do, Every time the world keeps testing me, testing me. Continue reading

  • Hero Of The Past.

    All of the beauty went away in a matter of seconds, I couldn’t believe how quick it had all been. The tides washed away all my tears, The sea didn’t know how much more they had been.   I tried to walk home at night, alone, As I thought about all the memories of past.… Continue reading

  • No Echoes.

    Everyone here is steadily nudging, Rapidly moving or slowly trudging. It’s a relentless pace they know, As everyone here is moving and shoving.   Everyone here is strongly guarded, By the hands of everyday strife. The simplicity of struggle eludes them all, Know how to make a living, not truly a life.   Because everyone here… Continue reading

  • A Bullet

    They packed him away to much delight He was going away, but all knew To the war of second coming The news hadn’t come out of the blue. The soldier wore his uniform and started to walk He bade his family a final goodbye. He couldn’t see his kids’ tears Daddy will soon be back,… Continue reading

  • We Just Need (Time)

    Dear dreams, You enter through the door, punch the wall on the way but only if you’d known whom it might hurt more. I know why you’re coming. I say, “I need you” like I mean it. But I say it instinctively. We are now standing face to face. You slap me, I shout back.… Continue reading

  • Ten Past Midnight.

    Jeff knew he had to act fast. There wasn’t much time remaining. He stared at his watch. It showed ten past midnight. He took his time before slowly pulling the curtain. What stood before him made him dumbstruck. He couldn’t speak now that Ellie was in her bunk just above his. One thing he didn’t… Continue reading

  • Homecoming Of A Hero

    The crowd cheered, the applause was loud But it was lost in the distant melee The hero was going away again His mother cried, for what knew she? He tried to remain calm, She always saw him off the same He knew he couldnt turn back As his tears came down again. He wouldnt cry,… Continue reading

  • The Paths Of Glory Lead But To The Grave

    The men came together to chase their dream Quite knowing what to do For they were paid to do the job And not ask who was who. They didn’t fear the dark, not least That they never had descended this particular steep It was the job that turned them on From being their family’s black… Continue reading

  • Death Doesn’t Scare Me Anymore.

    You took away my belongings, expecting me to cry When all I did was vow to myself That I’d always find a way to fly ‘Cause my belongings meant nothing to thyself. Have you ever seen the hawk get soft upon the prey? Or seen a mountain moved by relentless rain? Your ways have made… Continue reading

Mohul Bhowmick

Mohul is a national-level cricketer, poet, sports journalist, travel writer and essayist from Hyderabad, India.


Copyright © 2015 by Mohul Bhowmick.

All rights reserved. No part of Soliloquy may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author.

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