Far away from the crowd

Alone you walk in a deserted park

It’s up there…a face smeared in colour.


Rolling in ecstasy in the pale white clouds.


Fluid lines connects the fragmented space

Rosy globules taking things out,

Lunge across the fields of yellow and ochre


Form, colour or line; which is real?


Whisper a tune of the old melody

It floats and rushes towards a void,

Script the message of tragedy and triumph.


Marks and colour resounding the soul.


The power of the nature quietly ignores

All the pop and plenitudes of city life.

Men, women like matchstick, mothballs.


Orange red setting sun leaves a deep scar.


The emptiness reflects nothing but downside

We get little senses beyond the absurdity

Blow conch shells in a chorus to dispel fears.


Dig deeper, we lose a part of our own.

This entry was posted in Poetry on by .

About gopallahiri

Gopal Lahiri, a bilingual poet from India, has been writing poetry for more than twenty years. He has had five poetry collections in Bengali (mother tongue) and five collections in English. His poems appeared in print and electronic publications worldwide. He is a regular contributor of poems in several poetry web sites and magazines.

2 thoughts on “Abstract

  1. Louis Kasatkin

    My initial impressions are; ethereal, unearthly and it puts me in mind of a painting,hung in a gallery.Are you by any chance familiar with the works of Atkinson Grimshaw the late 19th.century landscape,or more properly cityscape painter? The line,”form,colour or line which is real ?” certainly could be applied to his work. Whereas the allusion, ” men, women like matchsticks..”puts me in mind of yet another painter; which again underscores the very effective and invasive quality of the poem itself.


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