A-Z Challenge dVerse Poem-Random Thoughts

Wish You’re Here…


The nights are windy here. The coldness that engulf me now is not the temperature

of here. It is of your absence. The only thing that keeping me warm is your presence

in memories. I can smell the perfume of yours, though musty but still I can sense

you. I miss those nights when you used to lay on my bosom and let the air splash hair–

strands or locks–of yours on me. Oh, I miss you right now that I can stole a plane and

fly to you. I wish not the gun, not my fellow soldiers,but, you’re with me in this turmoiled

peaceful night. I long for you, I long your presence…I miss you and wish you’re here…

De aka Whimsygizmo wants us to write a postcard poem for D’Verse Poetics Tuesday. So, here’s mine sort of reply to my dear Blogger Friend Stardust’s Wish You Were Here.

A-Z Challenge Letter P for Pray…P for Passion…P for Post Card Poem

A-Z Challenge NaPoWriMo



(the clock shows it’s quarter past twelve)

The moon is yellow on the sleeping, though awaken, city neon sky

The crescent it is. The streets are halogen in color; they’re empty

Like today’s page of my diary. A car whoosh as a word crossed my mind

Disappearing behind my line of sight into the darkness of the night.

Prevalence silence is now that an erratic mind needs to delve into the creation.


The moon, my eyes went to, from my window of my room is showing its marks.

You know, what are they…they are mountains of the moon…my Grandma had taught,

Once, I was young and was gazing at the moon when there was a power cut.

You know…after a couple of years when we’ll get marry we’ll see the moon together…

I’ll wrap you in my arms…your head will rest on my bosom…she had said once.


I’ve got a pack of cigarettes, nine in number. Three or one more will get burn.

In the darkness of my room the edge glow like a firefly. Reminiscent of

Childhood knocking where there were trees, there were shrubs. And

There was much darkness than now. And the blinking fireflies used to dance

On those little verdant neighbor of mine like the daisy chain hang in a festival.


An ambulance runs in haste. Its siren had been heard before a few seconds ago.

Now it is seen as the white flash with blurred siren light. The resonance remain

As posit before washing away with time. The man (or is it a woman) will live

For the night or not is the thought I played on before moving on to another.

(Death has a under-the-breath relation with the night I deduce before moving on.)


A crow caws putting a halt to my chain of thoughts. This little balcony of mine

Is misty from the smoke of the cigarette. They caw again. Are they asleep?

Or are they calling out of sleep? The depth of silence got redefine as they caw

From my neighbor neem tree. I inhale the nocturnal breeze before lighting another

cigarette. The flapping of wings was heard. I look around at my sleeping neighborhood.


The breeze is serene. It sings in a somber tune. Few like me wants to sleep but can’t.

Like my neighbor. She is sitting on the parapet of her window and talking on the phone.

I have seen her. But, don’t know whether she has. She may have seen the flicker of

My cigarette. I’m not sure ’cause she is a silhouette in the street light. I also used to

Wake like this. Not long ago. But, long ago, once. The rhythm is now melancholic.


The urban development has erased many things, made extinct almost many things.

Like the civets. Two are, now, on the prowl walking with an elan on my corner

Neighbor’s flat. One seems to be elder from size; another junior–may be its child.

Once, when the season was summer or monsoon, we’ve to keep close the doors

And windows protecting the fruits and meals from this notorious nocturnal hunter.


You feeling sleepy… drowsy…do not surpass your yawn; don’t keep the urge of

Sleep to be unsaid. Sleep. Sleep, my friend. I’ll be here, right next to you

(If you want) or right at your head reading in the dim street light or just

Typing down my ideas slowly and silent as a mouse shall be or thief shall be.

Sleep. Sleep, my friend. The night is coming to an end.

(the clock shows it’s half past three)


The featured image is Nocturne: Black and Gold – The Fire Wheel by James Abbott McNeil Whistler (1834-1903)

National Poetry Writing Month Day#17: Nocturne

A-Z Challenge Letter N for Night…N for Nocturne…


Sparrow (Tanka)

sparrow couple chirp

at my window biscuit dipped

in tea I offer

they nibble chirp demand more

my melancholy vanished


M for Morning

A-Z Challenge NaPoWriMo Others

Quintet (Clerihew)

Another interesting prompt–Clerihew. It’s a whimsical, four-line biographical poem. So, as a Bengali and as Indian we have few colorful characters. I’m taking my takes on four such personalities and a popular animated character to write clerihews on. I’ve also attached few line bio on each character to know them better along with events or facts that I’ve referred to in my clerihew on them for your, my reader, conveniences. 

A-Z Challenge Daily Prompts Others

The Echo of the Vale (Haibun)

The moon for long is curtain by the clouds. Its glow can be though feel as an outline for the clouds. The travellers speed up their movements. They has heard of some unnatural phenomenon going for a last couple of months. Did you hear that…one ask another in shaken whisper voice. Another nod his head in negative.

she look at them from

distance she like one tonight

but moon will be full 

The moon suddenly come out of the clouds. The field becomes white; the trees there cast a long shadow. She looks behind hearing a noise. The hunter has been on her for last few days. She needs to be careful more than she was last full moon. She felt a usurp inside her. She knows it has begun. She ran to the deep in the forest.

vale echo her howl two

travellers forget path

hunter fail to aim 


Tried a Haibun for the first time. Let me know your comment and reviews. 

Daily Prompt: Unravel

A-Z Challenge Letter J

Tried an Haibun. A new Journey I taken on.