Creation and Criticism

Hillol Ray (b. Oct 06, 1949), poet, author, and song writer, is an Environmental Engineer and Manager of Drinking Water Supply Enforcement Program, with the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) in Dallas, Texas. Born and raised in a suburb of Calcutta, India, he has been writing poetry since the age of six, in his native language “Bengali”. His poems are regularly published in Bengali magazines from Asia, Europe, Canada, Sweden, and North America and are currently being translated into English, Swedish, Spanish, German and French languages. Many journals and magazines of English Language and literature have also published his English poems. He resides at Milestone, 2723 Riviera Court, Garland, Texas 75040, U.S.A. and can also be contacted through his e-mails: ray.hillolk@gmail.com, hillolray098@gmail.com.

Received on Dec 03, 2023; Accepted on Jan 04, 2024. Available online: April 10, 2024. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License

1. Crouching Shame

A flying buzzing noise woke me up notoriously,

As I was startled in the middle of Sunday night-

And my lazy elephant-ears, out of darn fears,

Were dinned with chuckle in Halloween light!

Whispers donned in dreams like a comet’s hair,

But they disappeared soon in the forlorn dusk-

And I heard a dull roar, as my thoughts tore apart,

In the deep thicket, haunting for the dearly musk!

Amidst the birds’ song, I was laying on the ground,

Shaded by the leaves of an age-old green oak tree-

And the copper sun, out of fun, tried to pass me by,

As I am too small, and his dormant egos set me free!

His own mingling encompasses the starry majestic,

And gazes only at the upper echelon of the universe-

He doesn’t even spy on or care about me, the little man,

Regardless of how or when I act on dramas to rehearse!

The sun prefers me to preach and practice

The bare and naked somnolent truth of life-

And makes our blue planet a sustainable one,

Through the touches, devoid of devil’s strife!

The crouching shame of mine creates an uproar,

As it cannot be tamed so softly or easily for sure-

But the hapless life, burning in error or terror,

Faces the agonies till the heart becomes pure!!

2. Compendiums of Silence

Quite unexpectedly, the scorpion of love stung,

Where my old dreams’ wing on wing folds in-

And my thirsty thin lips shuddered in fears,

Too pronounced and could be easily seen!

Silence fell across the ambience in a rush,

And the claws of love choked my voice-

In a horror, I closed my pair of blue eyes,

As I was simply left without any choice!

The dreams of love, drowned in my heart of terrors,

Tried to quench her thirst and cling within my soul-

But sunken eyes under eyebrows looked for skies,

As they truly remained unwilling to pay any toll!

Indistinguishable cacophony vitiated the room,

Amidst the helpless starless shrewd midnight-

And soon I realized, my efforts to be organized,

To embrace the wall within wall staring within sight!

The echoes of assured love came to my rescue,

At the end of an end of solitary moonlit dream-

And the unspoken unity of my ruthless efforts

Calligraphed the silence to douse the scream!

My last cry meandered quietly with another cry,

To settle the perfection of intelligibility for sure-

And the compendiums of silence instead of violence

Were composed for the beautiful universe to endure!!

3. Dirge I Need to Sing

The song I sang to dance with made no sense

In my childhood village, stricken with grief-

And the solemn hush of starless evenings

Prolonged the nights and not at all brief!

The morning dews and fogs over the sods slept

Sorrowfully to prompt music for sorrow’s sake-

And the melancholic nightingales rocked in the nests,

While I mutely couched with my own birthday cake!

The beam of velvet moon gleamed peacefully,

And the entire village seemed to lay a-dream-

Lulled by the fjord, coulee, and somnolent sea,

And I, in the splendor of night, sang to scream!

The joy of rhymes twirled on the busy quills,

And my voice employed the melodies of tune-

Regardless of furious weather or season of the year,

I sang with a happiness, even in the middle of June!

The last chapter of this hapless life perches in America,

And now breathes with an awkward or a strange riddle-

But the thoughts about funerals of a friend or mine

Sing along casually when I play the grandpa fiddle!

The emptiness in heart and silence of a hostile voice

Seem to lurch when the i-phones at “Milestone” ring-

And my fate within prisoned walls, like a sealed cocoon,

Enthralls me well into hymns on the dirge I need to sing!!

4. Disharmony of Shapes

The faint clouds laid their breasts upon Baltic Sea,
And the gusty winds swooped down from the sky-
Through the shadowy forests of the Big Thickets,
And the darkness was hovering over the passersby!
The narrow throats of daffodils from the arboretum
Quivered within the navel of the tidal seashore-
Amidst the dreams within my day dreams,
And I woke up with a sound of bell ring on my door!

Weary palm trees panicked for life from storm;
Prayed and solicited for help from the God-
But the drunkard water of the turbulent sea
Neither showed mercy nor allowed His nod!
The frightened turtles were racing with tadpoles,
And sprawled over the sunken rocks with laughter-
But my poetic mind didn't dance or take a chance,
As I was stressed up myself right then and after!

My ageless heart, wrenched with a summoning desire,
Witnessed the swans clapping their wings together-
And the whispers from the sinking boats were fading,
While jubilant swans on the shore were drying up feather!
Tears of joy and sorrow rolled down my cheeks,
As the early dawn was welcoming the Autumn sun-
And I was so startled at the disharmony of shapes
Of events that transpired in my dreams on the run!!

5. Wondering World might Know

The answer to any question may not be known always,
But the search continues to find an answer-
And this trend goes on since the dawn of civilization,
Among the researcher, musician, and dancer!
Disgruntled unbelievers sink in noises of the world,
And forcefully embark on the fragrant flame-
But they can’t even lift the torches of glory to heaven,
Instead they point their fingers to someone to blame!

Inward delight may become a visible glee,
Poised openly in a musical note or tune-
And made in marvel for the global eyes,
Regardless of the prevailing weather in hot days of June!
The joy and love, stemming from below or above,
May become brighter and deeper with an amazing hue-
And the fabric of peace, friendship, and fellowship-
The wondering world might know with an eagerness to view!