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Global Poet : Priyanka Banerjee

Priyanka Banerjee   |   Thursday, 05 August 2021 | Print

Global Poet : Priyanka Banerjee

Priyanka Banerjee

Poet Priyanka Banerjee of India


Poet Priyanka Banerjee of India is a PhD scholar, and she is currently pursuing PhD from Rabindra Bharati University, Kolkata, on American literature. She has done her M.Phil on William Morris’ poetry.
She is an experienced lecturer, and she has taught at IGNOU, Rabindra Bharati University and different government and private colleges in Kolkata.
Priyanka has also participated in different national and international seminars and webinars. Her writing poetry is her passion, but she has been writing for many years, and her writings have been published
in national and International journals are highly acclaimed.


Poetry by Priyanka Banerjee


Change the World!


The world is yet to learn from your boldest promises and solemn sacrifices –
You smiled, and the mist of darkness evaporated –
Virtues triumphed over vices,
You conquered over the degraded and rotten bodies,
absorbing poisonous mercilessness.
The bondage of souls
inspired all,
to move forward –
Defying the collapses of midnight
or the trauma of the Crusader’s last, zealous fight.

Your cross shines like a burning comet in the still, blue sky!
Mother Mary still waits for you –
And the virgin no more feels shy
To give birth to you,
Transforming your light into bones
And celestial love into blue veins –
Bethlehem will again unfold the mysteries of midnight –
The Visionary feels your glow and hue,
While wandering aimlessly in the deserted world of true
Love and complacence.
Silence recreates the majesty of deepest silence and benevolence!
Pain gives birth to the Resurrected Self that merges with the perennial cadence .
Of rhythmic, dancing, floating life!
Virginity is no more untruth
Or an instinct of shame that can be abused shamelessly!
The flood of blue light unfolds
the secrets of midnight,
Your Cross will awaken the conscience,
Deep within,
Till all the sages
embrace pain of the burning souls
And Resurrection creates another Universe,
Out of the deadliest saga of loss,
That blatantly negates the superficial dilemma of temporality
And aspires to experience the cosmic, grand, nostalgic sensations of the whole!
The insane dances the dance of death and massacre –
The Black ocean empowers the raging voice of the multitudes!
The visionless can see your eyes burning brightly in the blue firmament
And out of the death of the purest instincts of the Silent saint,
A deadly, powerful voice of the Almighty can be heard again –
“Beware! Beware !”
He is irresistible!
His mother is unstoppable!
The journey is unalterable!
The new birth will break the barrier.
The bare shoulder
and the bleeding limbs will create the sensation of the split again.



Is Freedom a Myth or Truth?


The sonorous rhythm of transcendental music enter into the hollow space of minds –
Filling up those empty spaces with nostalgic emotions that breed reinvigorated notions
Of life!
The matrix of life is shaped up again and again
by the mistakes, the guilt consciousness,
The stifled up the conscience of the harmonious, deeply integrated souls
That breathe fresh life into the frozen, half-dead continents!
The Beduin’s heart craves for the faded blue light,
The strain of lyre and the beatings of drums together
Awaken the vast desert.
The Cosmopolitan poet inwardizes the cosmic grandeur
Of the lost storyteller!
The Ragas are freely uplifting the dancer’s consciousness tonight!
The strings of Sitar create the rhythm of Tandava –
The temple of Nataraja creates an epiphanic grandeur
in another world,
Where dance and music and chantings transform human fervour!
The Ragas create a tremor
In the hearts
Of Beduins,
Who are circling the bonfire
While boldly beating the drums
And captivating the rhythm of the universe –
The dancer knows not the language of repression!
The world of Art embraces freedom,
Joy and infinite Transcendence –
The horizon melts into the painter’s canvas!
Colours and shades and shadows create a new Spring
Lending charm from the emerging Third world!
The prisoners of Kalapani Jail sing the song of glorious abundance
and Ananda, Nirvana
That Merge with Prana!

The Shining sun asserts its presence
Through the cadence
Of holy chanting!
Ananda! Ananda!
Like a walking shadow, the dancer
Stretches her bare arms towards the star-studded canopy!
Her untouched waist creates a commotion deep into the earth!
Her feet are an inevitable part of the elemental , rocky earth .
The time is ripe
For the zealous leap
Towards the sky and those entangled vines
That arouse thirst within the wanderer’s bosom
No lie can anymore
The unpredictable, fluctuating, deteriorating, mysterious black hole!
The Ragas are playful tonight!
And as the stars tremble and dance,
Absorbing the nostalgic strain within them,
The world of art emerges out of frozen entity’s mystic, majestic surge
And absolute silence!
The stones can turn the century’s lie
Into an engraved figure –
Joy can conquer hatred.
The Reflected light burns in the distant sky!
The blue pool is aroused from its deepest slumber
And it doesn’t hesitate to unfold its hidden, Liquid, crystal clear parts
To the harsh sharks,
Possessing shining skin but eyes of the tyrant!
The galaxies are moving towards the world of the infinite!
The flood of light and the stream of joy overpower the dancer’s senses
Of rhythm!
The arrogant racist, sexist denies the storyteller’s stories
Of being enslaved in the mines.
The journey of love begins with ‘ thine’ and not with ‘ mine’!
Splendour Is not lost even when they abandoned
The world of abundance
In mad haste –
Streaks of golden light and
Tricks of hearts
Can no more deceive the human race.
The murdered revolutionaries
still chant the words of liberty in the world of silence.
Is Freedom a myth or truth?

Notes: Ananda means joy.
Nirvana means Epiphany.
Prana means life.
Kala Pani – The Cellular Jail is also known as Kala Pani, was a colonial prison in the Andaman and Nicobar islands.





The stones too have voices!
They can protest and resist through their hardness –
And the restlessness
Of the passing breeze fail to touch their concrete, rocky, bloodless hearts.
The Black Sea hides those shining pebbles deep into its bosom –
The veiled face is still in search of the half lit room –
Where fancy will no more kill dull love!

The Stones too have their identity.
They can assert and transform through their motionlessness –
Silence adores deepest silence!
Ruthlessness is caressed by the nocturnal distance,
Between the heart and the body –
The leopard is crippled tonight,
The burning eyes are searching for the woman’s proud heart!
The beatings of drum define the magnetic charm
Of the dark, vanishing continent …

The stones too have the impulses –
The galloping horses Know not,
what the ruinous border is! The blind tortoise.



White Bones and Black Waist – Trauma or Dilemma?


The show must go on.
The dancers and the Beduins know how the secrets of Split hearts
Can negate the rhythm of the Earth!
The kisses on lips and those shadows of drops of rain
Can absorb the ruthless Cleopatra’s pain.

The setting sun spreads its hue over the Prison cells!
Even imprisonment can destroy sterility of the Soul
That needs to be resurrected!
Bodies become alive when souls get connected!

Between life and death, Love leads the show that amuses
The eunuchs,
Who stands as barrier
Between love and lovelessness!
passions triumph over the hollow
Structure of Power!
The sunkissed domes of the land of the mystic
aspire for more freedom
And the last shower!

Freedom of speech can smoothen the lips and the rocks of the domes!
Even the empire of Rome
Was built up at the cost of savage pain!
Rain, rain and more rain
Can soak up the warm bed of sand
Of the lost desert land!

Timelessness has been deconstructing the concept of Time –
Time is ripe for absorbing
a new amalgamation
Of passions
That will breed a new phase of life,
Bringing the past, the Present and the Future on one plane!
The Revolutionary can never be sane.

The verdict negates the concept of sanity and lust!
The colonies are no more spreading the virus!
They are no more ominous!

Black skin, black hair, black eyeballs
Can create a new brown earth
Where the rebels will paint again portraits of broken guns!
The savage man embraces his white woman!
Too much love
Can turn the white skin into a tanned

The dancers sway their black waist
In a bid to find out the centre
Of the earth!
will oil come out at the cost of white bones?

Bones are always white –
No matter what.





The uproar creates a stir in the distant shore –
The fiery stars
Look at the dancing damsel!
They are marching forward towards the unknown destination –
Do Marx, Stalin, Napoleon and the Nazis belong to the same universe?
Who chanted the holy words?
They gained freedom
At the cost of their lives and dreams!
The perennial doom
Can no more baffle the thirsty souls!
Their eyes look like blank Eggshells
Behind the dark glasses –
If you feel like them and talk like them and breathe like them,
Then you are them!

Sometimes, history emerges as the great evil!
Many tentacled, ancient and indestructible as the devil.


Copyright@Priyanka Banerjee



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Posted 10:24 pm | Thursday, 05 August 2021 |

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