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 A blog with known words. |
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It is a blog where I share my thoughts with you. I try to tell you how Bengal people can write a bit. What is the magic behind it? This is the most important question. These are logically described in this blog post. I hope you will enjoy it very much. |
Dead Man's Switch Silvern The weight in his hand, A stone was always held. A promise not broken, But settled down. He never looked down. The pressure constant, A silent agreement With the coming dark. If the grip should loosen, If the last breath withdrew, The mechanism waits. A coiled, bitter spring. Whet secrets ride that wire? What truth is tethered there? Not glory, not salvation, Just a consequence unbound. I watch the stillness now. The unmoving fingers, And wonder if the release will be a gentle rain. Or a sudden shattering sound, A consequence I can't stop, Because his final choice was never to let go. Lines: 22 Prompt Thursday 12 Prompt: Dead Man's Switch "The Daily Poem "  |
The Dental Treatment Silvern A toothache began with a zing. A sharp little pain on a string. It pulsed like a drum. Making eating quite glum, Caused the poor fellow to cling. The dentist arrived with a drill. That whirring gave him a chill. The dentist instructed, "Open wide now. " With a menacing bow, Prepared to perform quite a kill. The filling went in with a snap, A temporary painless wrap. But the numbness wore thin. And the throbbing set in. Back to pain for a terrible nap. PROMPT: ANYTHING DENTAL-RELATED |
| {center} Those Moment Silvern Just some drizzles on the windowpane, Blurs the edges of the streetlamp's glow. A memory surfaces. Not quite yours, But close enough to wear. The scent of old books, A melody half-heard, Becomes the soundtrack To this quiet evening. We pile up moments. Like a smooth river stores. In the basket of today. That smile, so like him, That familiar sigh, A whisper that tastes someone else's youth. The lines soften. The past leans in, A friendly shadow, And whispers the same story, Just a different actor on the stage. I nod, understanding the smooth, Warm lie. This feeling, is it mine now? Or just an echo caught in the weave. Of borrowed sunlight? We hold the threads tight. Until the true colour disappears. Lines: 27 {dropnote:"Prompt"} Note ▶︎"}} {/center} |
The Scenario Silvern Roof rack perch, Minivan's crown. Below, A riot of violet, Yellow plash on green. Mountain shoulders, Hunching blue against the light. Sky wide, indifferent blue. Thoughts drift, light as pollen on the air. What if? Just a breath. This moment, only this. Lines: 12 {dropnote:"Prompt"} A picture prompt. "The Daily Poem " 03/08/2026 {/dropnote} |
A Beautiful Anachronism Silvern A flip phone in the hand of a Roman Senator. It rang, A strange delicate song Against the marble silence of the forum. He answered. His robes bent. Frowning at the bright screen. On the other side of the time period? Is it past or present? Why? Most probably, history repeats itself. A horse-drawn carriage is kissing the stone emperor. An LED headlight is flashing. On the dashboard is a digital clock radio. It's 3 AM. Don't use this time! The smell of burning oil mixes strangely. With the ozone smell of old electronics. A woman checks her email on a slick, Silver tablet, Over a longer period of time. Waiting! She would say for a while, A very middle word in an environment. Time bends here. A gentle, confusing curve, Rejecting era, Like mismatched socks, A delightful flaw in the epic. We slip bad laughs. A beautiful anachronism. Lines:31 Prompt ▶︎ |
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| {center} Skin Silvern A thin curtain drawn tight Over the landscape of the body. It drinks the sun. A thirsty map of dots. And the faint blue rivers beneath. It remembers the sting Of a scraped knee long ago, The soft give of a baby's.. This living envelope, Breathing the air in and out, A quiet shield. It stretches, it creases, A history written in lines Around the eyes, the mouth. Sometimes it flushes hot With sudden shame or joy, A silent announcement. And when the cool rain falls, It feels every drop, A million tiny taps, A moment of simple undeniable presence. Blanket of flesh, This fragile marvellous skin. Linhes: 23 {dropnote:"Prompt"} Thursday 05 Prompt Word: Skin ⟴ Use a blank space intentionally {/dropnote} {/center} |
An Artistry Silvern Pliable like soft clay Ready to take a new form. A bend in the willow branch after the spring rain. Not rigid, but yielding, A quiet agreement with the air. Open the shaping hand, the gentle push, Fetching what it needed now. Lines: 7 Prompt ▶︎ |
Greetings of Holi Silvern Today is Holi in India. It is known as the festival of colours. In Holi, we, the public, give colours to our friends, relatives and known people. The main purpose is to tighten the bonds between us. The colours convey good wishes for a brighter and prosperous future. It is a very popular festival. Wish you all a very Happy Holi. |
The Header Silvern The screen glowed, A cold, pale moon. Underneath, a single word, A little card for a life We built and then perhaps forgot. Header. It sat there, stark black text On a digital expense, The way you used to leave your keys On the hall table, Always in the same spot. I click to open the file. It is labelled simply, The Love Letters. But the date stamp is last Tuesday. We haven't exchanged a real letter in years, Only hurried texts, Agreement about groceries. Inside, the document is empty. Just the white space is stretched, A silent, echoing room Where our shared history should be. I remember the day you printed the first one, The official documents where we listed our promises, Signed and sealed, A header for forever. Now, this is a blank page. Was this a glitch? A saving error? Or did you finally delete everything That came after a title? I look up the window, Half-expecting to see your car pulling away, Leaving only the quiet confirmation Of that solitary, accusing word. Header. The start, or probably abrupt, The unedited end. Lines: 38 Prompt ▶︎ |
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