EUPHORIA/PASSION/ONENESS/MADNESS YOU DECIDE
Today my heart's amphetamine—it's pumping gold,
Brown, amethyst and loganberry to the mind.
Oh! you should see these quaint motifs that I behold:
The particoloured lines and curls, so well-designed.
I'm spellbound by an old montage, a Spanish kitsch
Has dazzled me, a sophomoric joke has won
My best guffaw; I am a bird: without a hitch,
I'll leap from balusters to show how flying's done,
I'll outperform Da Vinci's work, outclass his skill,
You ask me any lexicon—French, Portuguese
Or German; I will answer each. I sense the thrill
Of being in some faraway land where the breeze
Is mating with my diaphragm. Let's board a scow
And make that legendary posture on its prow.
Each hidden beauty's rousing me for I can smell
The fruity candy floss breath of some far-off girl,
I can see her occulted parts and truly tell
They're luscious, and if I drew them, she'd go aswirl
On seeing her own shapes. Let me describe what's Pink:
To board a pegasus and soar, to quaff the sky,
Or to be flummoxed by each vision, then to think,
"It is a flabbergasting art!", or simply lie
Upon a bed and deem it heaven, to attract
Your maiden with duende, then to wing aloft
Through skies of joy and unite in that sweetest act
And radiate your brightest glisters on her soft
And godlike skin; then to melt with the moaning night
And to remain oblivious till the next light.
No wine on earth can make me sloshed for I am wine—
I am its smoothness, I am insobriety,
I am the world—all its impressive things are mine,
And none can take hold of my grand commandery;
But I'm an acolyte of Him, a weeper too
When I glance at the Pietà; I feel Him near
As if my home's Elysium, then every view
Of this draconian existence: sorrow, fear,
Wrath or tedium, evanesces. Freedom's come:
It flows as narrow rivulets within each nerve
Towards my cosmic ocean (soul) and I become
His greatest Shakti dancing in its highest verve;
I don't wish to be thrown back but to stay submerged
Within this disembodied deep that life has surged.
Shamik Banerjee is a poet and poetry reviewer from the North-Eastern belt of India. He loves taking long strolls and spending time with his family. His deep affection with Solitude and Poetry provides him happiness.
