Ayan Roy Poems

It's a cage, this beige.
It's not chocolate, khaki or sandy. It's just blaheige.
It's something that those Kiwi cricketers of the 1980s wore,
or what spies should wear like Harry Potter's invisible cloak.
...

Wherever he goes, I follow.
Need to understand his psyche,
But I can't walk a foot in his shoes,
He wears floaters in the rains, after all!
...

I
My manipulations fail as the
audience of negligent ears is
too busy visualizing the applause
...

'Is he a pugilist or a punchbag? ' they wonder.
But seem to forget it's a game of give and take,
And I am more of a taker, anyway, always have been.
But that don't make me selfish,
...

There once lived a man, named Gary,
who used to travel everyday by the ferry.
The townsfolk would call him Hairy,
for they didn't know he would one day be a visionary.
...

A parched soul
Looking for a watering hole,
Cannot find a drop, withers away.
...

Are you are stuck in some blue funk?
Are all relationships and conversations feeling like icky gunk?
Are you getting a sense that your ship has sunk?
Don't worry. Consult a man who thinks like a monk.
...

I am Apām Napāt*
I am Shukra-born**
I am Vrischika***
I am Mesha^
...

Have been diagnosed with aposiopesis*. It's…
Can it be congenital or acquired? It's…
But anyway, Big pharma isn't hunting. It's…
And so, friends and kin continue to
...

What has to be said, can not be.
What is being said, is not heard.
What is being heard, has not been said.
Signal failure?
...