Two Poems by Lopamudra Banerjee

Lopamudra Banerjee is a diasporic Indian poet who writes verses that speak of a heart rooted in her birthland –Desh and mind blossoms that carry the colours and fragrances of her new country of being. The poet is in a constant journey between the two lands, as she builds bridges of nostalgia, remembrance and identity to reconcile her estranged self. She confesses to being a ‘fatigued sojourner’ in a ‘a marriage of convenience’ that gives her somethings while taking away a lot. The poet desperately seeks light and hope in the ‘blackened void’ having left her path of ‘faintly twinkling stars”.

 1. Desh: The Epitaph

The moon-flooded streets, an opulent Poornima⃰

In my girlhood dreams, I float, a fatigued sojourner

Soaking in the topography of familiar reckonings.

Sitting on his knees, the spectator watches

Slices of games enlivened in between chalkboards of the verandah

The anthem of loss, revival, asleep and awakened between rivers.

In this game of remembered winds, a lifetime of floating

A recurrence of seasons watching over the beauty

of the river banks, and the void that seeps in, upon return.

Amid self-proclaimed boundaries, crepuscular desires step out

over the threshold; here is the dividing line between that Poornima

and this ashen sky, between that terrace and this manicured lane.

In an arranged alliance, a marriage of convenience between

Desh and the other island, continents apart, our silences waited.

We’ve begun talking now, questions hang loose amid changed addresses.

⃰ full moon

2. Where Can You Find the Stars

Far across the distance of the withering spring

I have left the zigzagging path

of my faintly twinkling stars.

In the maddening mirth of the night in my veins

My supple hands had cupped

The pearly sheen of my faintly twinkling stars.

In the shadows of the fading fields of dying birdsongs

Amid forgetfulness of a defiance, once strong,

Where can you find the stars, expectant and bright?

Swirling in blackened void, encountering

Disjointed dreams in the dead alley of the night

I have left the zigzagging path

Of my faintly twinkling stars.

Drifted ashore by the gusty waves dashing

The possibility of primitive beats and poetic rhythms conjoining

Where can you find the stars, in their wordless light?

Forming and deforming in rampant onslaughts

My terrains die and enliven in the numinous paradox of dark.

I have left the zigzagging path

Of my faintly twinkling stars.

Hanging in silence, floating around the impenetrable dark,

Where can you find the stars, melting into the humming quiet?

I have left the zigzagging path

Of my faintly twinkling stars.

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