Radiation
Sometimes a poem finds me at the right time. Peach clouds fade to slate, lying there that evening like a charcoal smudge, bleary, watery, unfocussed, I search dearly that moment, the word is ‘Beautiful’, means winsome, means the ruins, it’s impossible to know the difference. my small palm is holding that word. unable to feel what I touch, I only listen to the songs of siren. I know silence is the deadliest radiation.
Haze
this door this long wooden door is private-eyed. someone holds its breath, sleep in my long arms, all that shivering and much more. for something so far said but untrue like the sound of wind crossing the dark elevated corridor. everything drifts who to let in, who to let out, I do not know. let me see outside without looking at the broken glass at the corner. someone says lights are smoky here.
Gopal Lahiri
Gopal Lahiri is a bilingual, Kolkata based poet, critic, editor, writer and translator with 29 books published, including eight jointly edited books. His poetry is also published across various anthologies as well as in eminent journals of India and abroad. His poems are translated in 17 languages and his works are published in 14 countries. He has been nominated for Pushcart Prize, US for poetry in 2021. He is the recipient of the Setu Excellence Award, 2020, Pittsburgh, US.