Poems by Pijush Kanti Deb

It's always nice to publish a poet for the first time!  (Hint, hint.)  Tonight I have the pleasure of publishing  the poems of Pijush Kanti Deb, an Indian poet and professor of economics.  



A Devotee or A Beggar
                        Composed by- Pijush Kanti Deb
It’s not universally applicable
but some devotees of the divinity,
seem to be beggars
in the guise of humble devotees.
As a disguised beggar,
a devotee becomes a flatterer
throughout his devotion to the God
as he keeps oiling him again and again,
dropping his crocodile’s tears
in begging for his self-centered happiness
but drops neither tears
in showing his true love for his divinity
nor his selfless formal inquiry
‘’How do you do my God ?’ 

Your Cat and My Dog
             Composed by- Pijush Kanti Deb
I am ever-cautious of the cat on your lap
along with its hidden claws
waiting for directing the dual
between your ‘yes’ and my ‘no’ and vise-versa,
but my compromised heart never calls for a duel
rather well ascertained it is
with the regular scanning of my heart and brain
to maintain an eclectic equation
that embellishes my eyes
with a sophisticated vision of verified tomorrow.
Maybe, my office-schedule tightens its grip
or my dog at my feet barks at your cat,
our evening tea-hour, nevertheless, is well trained
to extend itself to decade or more
provided that
your cat and my dog interchange their masters
and my eyes are fearless to kiss
your awesome fingers-
embellished with sharp and polished nails.



Two Languages

At night,
in our bed-room
all stories are seemed to be good.
Though my wife talks to me in two languages
and I use my ears and eyes to listen
yet nothing is there to handicap
our mutual understanding.
Very often I am amazed
at the contradictory longings of her two languages
as her lip-language hides the truth
while her body-language is so simple
to simplify the truth.
Though in the bed she embraces my lying body
keeping her face on my chest,
legs on my legs
and delivers her body-language
to pour oil in the fire
yet her lips say in drowsy tune, ’’Let’s sleep early’,
but I am prompt to justify
both her languages with love and care.

A poor Hand

Composed By- Pijush Kanti Deb
A poor hand- quite naked and flexible,
needs an impenetrable amulet
made of rhino skin
and a goggles to cover up
its ocular confusions and hesitations-
the outcome of a duel fought in its heart
between its limited ethics and unlimited wants,
to extend itself near to a purse of someone else-
heavier than its own purse
either by uttering the traditional hymns of begging
or by roaring the thunderous dialogues of pillaging,
otherwise, within a fraction of a moment
its nudity will be caught by the fielding eyes,
the sores on it will be brought under the scanner
and the consequent humiliation
will be active to contract the poor hand to its origin
leaving even its own poor purse somewhere else.

Though She Is My Best Friend
                              By- Pijush Kanti Deb
She knows how to cast aside
one’s passionate solicitation
and carry her point of reluctance
with a sweet smile.
Though she is my best friend
yet I can’t see eye to eye
with her smile
that sees off her refused boy friend
and multiplies itself too at his disappearance,

with her prompt party with me in a canteen
where she looks as the happiest one
in her gossiping and laughing with me
and pulling the waiter’s leg for fun

and with her unabated making up
with the new boys one after another.
that brings into play the same stories-
solicitation ,refusal , smiling
and a party with me respectively,
but a new query in my mind,
“is she a stoic or a sick?”
Before I cut the link
with her hazardous company
I look her in the face and ask,
“How can you smile at other’s tears?”
She looks daggers at me
and shouts in her reply,
“They could smile at my mother’s tears”.

Here is the poet's first-person bio:

I am Pijush Kanti Deb and a new Indian poet with more than 180
published poems and haiku in more than 50 nos. of national and
international poetry magazines and journals print and online like Down
in the dirt, Tajmahal Review, Pennine Ink, Hollow Publishing,
Creativica Magazine, Muse India, Poetry Pacific, Teeth Dream Magazine
and so on. At present I am working as an Associate Professor in
Economics.

Welcome, Pijush!

Recently, the Clarkophile, a blog devoted to Gene Clark's body of work, published its list of the fifty best songs he wrote and performed.  I will post a few of the songs mentioned here:  http://clarkophile.blogspot.com/2014/12/the-complete-list-1-50.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+TheClarkophile+%28The+CLARKOPHILE%29

Unfortunately, this recording of "My Marie" is marred by some chatty ladies, but the song is not as easy to find as some of the others are: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0r3j6kKmNBo

"Give My Love to Marie" is not on the list, but it is easier to find: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eg1kJ6K0_-A

"She Don't Care About Time" is more in tune with Pijush's poems:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_oJAuDKUKu0

Finally, here is "Polly" from the Dillard and Clark Expedition: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YjNA0q5YY2A