Poems by Chandra Shekhar Dubey

Chandra Shekhar Dubey

Eyes shout in silence
Screams in lonely nooks of attic
Like a lacerated lotus in a lake of tears,
Defying the gleams of hope, flames of flickering shadows
Of being what shapes the worldly notions
Of your beauty, seductive dalliance
In erotic silence and sublimity.
And   paint you like an object
Put in an illusive glass case in a shopping mall.
Where have you lost the fire of Kanagi ,
That burnt the city of Madurai with flames of fury ?
Fire that flamed the eyes of Durga and Kali
To end the diabolic saddles of blood and rancour.
Reincarnate yourself, igniting the fossilised fire
To raze the unbridled devilish madness
Let loose in the insanity of the world.


A moment slipped stealthily
Out of twig of time and suddenly lurched
in the silvery beach.
Girdling  around  the erupting blue womb.
The frenzy wave measured its fragility
Out of vagarant ripples of eternity
Summoned to the grandeur  of poise.
The flickering moment whispered:
I am eternal, invisible fed on the flame of eternity.
Often I decode divergent signatures on sandy mounds.
Of embroidery carved on my sandy face
Weave them on the canvas, unaware
Of the cool breeze and emerald waves.
Which get lost in those  outstretched arms.
I don’t know, how those shapes sink
in the granules of oblivion.
And take the shape of sandy sculpture.
On the bed of time.


You tiny wonder of the world
What disparity haunts your infinitesimal entity,
When children of your demeanour feed on fairy tales,
Games  and soulful songs of mysterious harmony.
What a dark world awaits your destiny in streets.
Roadside dhabas , gloomy factories
and loosely hanging harbours,
Doing  odd jobs as domestic help in voluptuous homes.
When children of your age play thrilling games;
Of killing a dragon or catching a Pokemon,
Sing chorus in school.
You get to work with ash smeared body,
stained , small palms and staggering steps
Hiding in your sleeve the burden of worries.
Stifled sighs melted into heavy heart
get suffused with morbid sensations of convulsive jaws.
When you needed toys and books.
They overburdened you
With bricks, stones  and  sickle.
And forced you in the soulless world
of brooding  indulgence.
Where you lost your innocence
to heartless, monstrous trap.

Old Mariner

You breathe
into  the sensations of  feelings
which can be felt
like millions of intangible granules,
pulsating with volcanic eruptions
in some  dark cavity.
You are like thrust of wild wind
which would get lost
in some dreary desert,
touching my lonely  heart.
You are like mad torrents,
soaking the heat of my body,
Which would flow into
some ferocious crevices.
You are a book of untold stories,
as I try to browse through it,
I get lost in the riddles
of  words and mazes of lunatic tonality.
You are a story buried deep
in the caverns of a closed chamber,
which has neither a biginning nor an end.
Are you a fragile thread or a bond untied
floating into some vermillion lake?
Or some cursed self like old mariner
condemned to tell your story
to every rippling wave of sailor?