May Day

ByCapt. Prof. Basudev Paul

The first of May is a May Day

Unlike the other Day, this made a memento

For the class, dehumanized, below par

Rewritten the history, stained with gore

 

Shed blood of lower rung

Fleeced money by the suckers

The hapless lot looked agape!

Shylocks’ canine smote, vitiated

 

Throat tearing poverty moved little

Their sweats sown, gold produce

Built edifice, their comfort zone

Young breaths oozed out, silently –

 

The labours like Ruth groaned

Reached not to the hoarder

They wallowed and amassed money

The vein on the wan, diminishing!

 

The stone like hunger engulfed them

Bereft of hearth and home

Slept on the muddy floor

Their life vitality yielded gold

 

The upheaval, an undertow, fomented

Wrested sleep from the profiteers

Now the united might:

Not a mere midge

 

Psychic wrecks unified them

To relandscape their role today

Brooked no inhumility, misanthrope

Sought justice for equity

For Paul Robeson, Mandela dreamt of

 

Captain Prof Basudev Paul has been teaching at Parimal Mitra Smriti Mahavidyalaya, Malbazar, Jalpaiguri, West Bengal, India. He has been commanding the English Department as an HoD since 1986.

Dressed in poetical robes, Basudev searches thoroughly and wildly the ikigai of poetry. Among the rocks Paul finds the flint of spark that diffuses on the premises of creation. His poems speak with the imagination of the twenty first century. The diction, vivid imagery, and variegated moods glowingly communicate the messages of an aching desolation, plaguing the world. An offshoot of Nature, Paul puts in his best to carry the clarion voice of hope.

Do not measure the popularity of Paul by his mere publication pieces. A deeper reading of his writings constantly alters our worldview every time. His crude thinking yet yields huge riches.  Like Emily Dickinson he has been withdrawal in his subjective and objective poetry. He has been so even in his semantic anatomy.

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