Poetry by Jayanta Bhaumik
I deny the morning of its mood
I give it my own
In the grits of such parable,
I am like I am just a point –
to become a point is my job of the day
How so quickly a day comes,
perturbs our love,
nestles in our perish and place
How so quickly a day becomes the becoming of a past
A sugary nephrite, dissipating, a faded coffee so cold
As I whisper, my voice grows
tubular, like a tall dark night
How so fast a night melts to a story never told
Over a lanterned street,
I wait to see the fabler crossing the strips of time
Who knows a loner’s length, my lonely job
To last is my only job
About the Poet
Jayanta Bhaumik is from Metaphysics, a Research Member of American Federation of Astrologers Inc. In May 2019, he has appeared as a Poet of the Week for Poetry Super Highway. His works can be found in recent or upcoming issues of Zombie Logic Review, Merak Magazine, The Pangolin Review, Pif Magazine, Better Than Starbucks, PPP Ezine, The Local Train Magazine, Cajun Mutt Press, Scarlet Leaf Review.
Vita Brevis Press. 