#love
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MY WOODEN BOX
I decided to write this poem On things that you have given me Which I don’t have with me anymore But materialistic or intangible There’s everything inside me now And there’s this wooden box too Which contains both of our souls And the time we exchanged it with each other In return for fame and… Continue reading
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A LETTER TO AN AILING DAUGHTER
You’re reading this now on your dimly lit hospital bed Where I never dreamt of setting up a home for you Life has a cruel way of making triumph and disaster look alike And as I shed another invisible tear in your presence There is a bucket-load of this yet to come Whatever you have… Continue reading
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MY NAIVE HEART
I had a bad dream Of which you were no part It scared me to see no you But I thought maybe you were asleep Like you always are when I say something Maybe my dreams sensed something Maybe they heard of the gentle clouds crying, But what terrified me the most Was not of… Continue reading
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A SONG OF LONGING
Whenever I hear the lark singing And see the sun wake up to another fight There is something that draws me in And something that repels me They are both present in identical measures And they’re equally powerful, Now bedraggled, tired and weary This soul of mine is looking for company It achieved tranquillity when… Continue reading
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TIME WILL SAY NOTHING
Time will say nothing but, “I told you so,” When the rivers are awash with all those tears, And the soul willingly lets the anguish grow. When the priceless dream, broken in half, Cries from the nearest branch of hope, Time will say nothing but laugh. Time will say nothing but, “I told you so,”… Continue reading
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POISON
They say that you are not good for me, With your cautious lips and dewy eyes. And those soft hands that set me free, Leaving me guileless as I chase this prize. They say that you are like the cloudy skies, And I will take too long to understand That your cautious lips and dewy… Continue reading
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THE DEATH OF SANTA CLAUS
He’s been bed-ridden for a week, But he doesn’t show his pain, Hiding doesn’t come easy, The man in the red suit has never had it harder, His kids down at the North Pole Post Office Have often told him to go easy but, The chest pains he’s had do not go away quickly And… Continue reading
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.
Soliloquy 