Subrata Ray Poems

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Some years ago,
There was a go and a go,
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My darling moon,
Has mirthful glow,
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Nothing was said,
Nothing was paid,
A hung suspends!
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The tubs set with dreamy faces,
In daily lore of petrol
To fuel hope, delude substance,
And suck the treasure house.
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The springs of human cadence,
Step by step unfolds in your lyre,
The frenzy ecstasy of divine fire,
Sets symphony of the dual on the non-dual.
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No chains did he share,
With thousand chains there,
A loin cloth, two breads,
Under the sky-bare.
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From some cultivated lone,
Springs the image of the remotest rare,
Of placid abstract.
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That's the divine glow,
Finds a flow
In your cultivated devotion,
And sets an impelling motion
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If you could not love me well,
Why did you ring my conscience's bell?
If you could not love me well.
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In an art gallery,
The tapestry of brush -soaked paper hang,
Judges buzz, with stories sung.
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