Poems by Gopal Lahiri

Gopal Lahiri
My Poem

Every day, the words shuffle their feet, they waltz
around the books and shelfs,

Near the open door, the alphabets wait like a patient
for the touch of my hands,

The stanzas get stuck and sulks at times but revert back
right up my alley, crisp and plain,

Days spent digging for some elusive answer,
A cool breeze washes over my face,

The lights and shadows of some other universe 
weave lines and half-lines.

For the poem taking shape in this mothy room
I slide into the evening on the back of a dream,


Fading Rainbow

It breaks through the morning clouds.
each circle invents some chanted fragments,

How hard it is for the voices to be shut?

It has been there so long, waiting
then under the sky-swarm of stars,

What remains is the desert vastness, 

At the corner of the street, there is a palpable silence
filling up with chip poems; the anger waits,

The whisper of a fading rainbow splits the evening.

All portrayals are vivid, the words and arguments make
way for - decent, dignified, wounded soul.

Dreams are like mist that thins and disappears in the blue.


Muted Rhythms
In the morning, nothing but a thin layer of cloud floats by
there is the light of connection, a kind of purity of being

And so much humming inside, move in another life
carry it around, the sky does not forget the colour

Blue is not blue enough, how else are we measure
in a world where words are woven like tapestries-

River I know, one that does not flow or changes its course
voices first, then letters soak in inverted colours.

It’s time to open up the secret that we never want to hear
undo the air of loneliness, the leaning shadows

take a few things with them, in going some way
towards sun and shadow. Whispers thicken the air.

Emptiness stirs in another life in absence of light, then
lays bare those unused syllables, those muted rhythms,



Here the mornings are muted grey and grey
and the clouds I know are like wrinkled lines
over the layered mountains,

Limitless space
I have held it for long in my palm and felt it like soft feathers,
in turn hit the easterly wind path,

Breathlessly I stare at the broken columns and pillars
reminding of the ravages of quake,

I feel the tremor in dream and the scars.
left behind are like still born children,

Wounds and pains are buried beneath the rubbles.
each cry fades into oblivion.

If only, at the end of all this
the twilight steals all the memories and
whispers breaking into an evening melody.


A sparrow sits on the parapet,
before our eyes     the clouds carry all the whiteness.

Outside veins are heading towards yearning,
I have stopped holding up walls     of broken embraces.

As I close your window     a handful of sky moves from
one planet to the next.

We reach the edge      write seven alphabets under the eyelids
street lights shed their skin.

I continue the search,
ivy strangling in a fence     the red ants seeking earth.

The evening skies     repeat a smile that burns
and comes through unknown stars.


Short Bio:

Gopal Lahiri is a Kolkata based bilingual poet, editor, critic and translator and published in Bengali and English language. He has authored 23 books to his credit. His poetry is also published across various anthologies and in eminent journals of India and abroad. His poems are translated in 14 languages. He is the recipient of the Poet of the Year Award in Destiny Poets, UK, 2016, Setu Excellence Award, 2020, Pittsburgh, US and Indology Life-Time Achievement award, West Bengal, India.


  1. Well-deserved! It's an honour to be Author of the Month.
    Congratulations, Gopal.

  2. All the five poems are beautiful and have absorbing freshness the early morning breeze brings.

    Bipin Patsani

  3. All five poems are beautiful Gopal Lahiriji. Congratulations to you.

  4. All five poems are beautiful Gopal Lahiriji. Congratulations to you.


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