PARTHA SARATHI PAUL
a teacher and bilingual poet...an avid English lover and dedicated learner...fond of poetry specially a resolute brevity lover...believe in terse but not trash poetry.
Muse India, India`s top-most web journal has awarded him
with YS poetry Prize for December 2013.Many of his early poems got published in Wave, once-published weekly supplement of The Telegraph.His poems have been selected ... more »
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- Love triumph! -new-
- Were this poem my last poem! -new-
- she won`t give up... -new-
- Humans are wonderful animals! -new-
- Pictorial colors -new-
- Yet... -new-
- O sorrow... -new-
- Flowers of my heart.
- A tribute to my ladylove.
- Stiff breaths!
- My offbeat poetry...
- when you...
- The organic spring festival!
- The soldier is Mars!
PARTHA SARATHI PAUL Poems
Were this poem my last poem! -new-
Were this poem my last poem! No other poems would tell you many other things. How I wish I could obscure
I am inside my horoscope
I am smiling back to the smiles of the exalted Jupiter at the transit to my birth sign in my otherwise gloomy birth chart.
Think Positive And Dream Superlative
Think positive and dream superlative - - Get up and dare to be yourself Speak up and proclaim the gifted worth Take the enemy odds in your stride
A Sad, Hope Lyric...
while passing through a bad patch many good claws gift some deep scratch. gotta bear with all so love bruises from bitter foes once so dear friends.
Loneliness is not that bad. You can count your breaths. You can count on your violin existence. You can be your thoughtful companion.
A hayabusa and her chiseled rider!
Is it not hard to be wise with the brakes of a quick and high pick up baby
Clothed Lies and Nude Truths
White or black lies wear garb but their foes stand bare; don’t they feel like a barb?
The curtain drops abruptly.............
A stage show for a short run - - slow or sudden end
winter herself is very romantic!
O shyly blushed beauty your dewy veil is tenderly lifted by nervously hesitant late morning sun rays...
' All Is Not Lost '
When many hopes dash against a rock reality all of them never perish; the reduced bits rise from their forced grave- - At least one of them like a phoenix
Weavers too look at the sky...
when a woodpecker pecks at a hollow stem his pains may be prized or may just go in vain
I Love Their Write...
I like the way we write the lingo. I love the way the native writers write it. We often go in a round about way; Our thoughts travel there via our vernaculars.
Hard words from an open page...
A Sad Girl Sings...
Miss you, miss you, daddy; miss you very hard. It`s too long since that last day when you said, you`d not be long.
Comments about PARTHA SARATHI PAUL
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
Were this poem my last poem!
Were this poem my last poem!
No other poems would tell you many other things.
How I wish I could obscure
the remaining half voyage before anchoring the oblivion!
My daily poems like regular floods
erode fast the soil of my dream autobiography.
I am writing and depleting the varied forests
growing ritually and grown over years in my wild expanse.
Am I not sick of my life commentary
that keeps you alive of my goings-on?
Like Hercules I am lifting up my heavy soul globe
wearied of many more poem attacks and poem counter attacks!