ditch,

the poetry that matters

Ryan Chakravarty

Ryan Chakravarty is a graduate of Cardiff University, Wales studying English, Philosophy and Politics. He currently lives in London.

A Woman’s Judgement
 
A ticking time bomb of an existence.
The yodelling of a shuddering woman
brakes the chains of unhealthy impressions,
and heightens the ecstasy, a living luminem.
 
The ease of capriciousness without care.
So the world throws its bolts upon each back
and the woman takes from your core what once burnt.
But yet return you for selfishness, in the body it racks.
 
To be capable of anything, the potential of the unborn
that weaves its way around your image.
Like the faded cracks in the walls
the turgidity is ambitious and groping.
 
The wooden beams interlink to create design
And spiral out of control like the wind as begins its whirl.
A treat for the eyes, brown pearls of sin.
Orbs of ominousness penetrate the garb, suffusion.
 
A graze against my exploits like an ice-pick on skin.
Frozen tubes with destitute stagnant plasma.
The fur on my back, dangerous icicles
collapse like the sunflower in snow.
 
A crazed terminal of emotions,
everything turns three hundred and sixty degrees reminiscing.
I can hear the murmurs of memory
the teeth of culture lay into my pristine skin.
 
 
 
 
  
San Juan
 
As the sun burns it opens visionary pores
Oh! Illuminating sun, it casts its shadow too far from grace
Brightens the spirit but uncovers the flaws
A blemish on the heart as clear as day
 
The beautiful lines of these mortal confines
The fiery sphere leans upon the sky to appear unvexed
And embraces the downpour, for it washes away the deepest toxin
There is little romance in loves transience
 
Beyond the blue there is anonymity
Upon the pink of its bosom, looking down, there is solace
To cup the breath of the clouds gives times boisterous recognition
To glance into the glass spits blinding venom 
 
Upon the chest of the shore stability can be found
But southern endeavours lead to precarious nuances
It is a flickering line, a broken barrier
It is the mark of the blind to travel past the gate of the interior
 
The water folds with a life of its own
Its undulating heightened by disturbance, but never calm
Each ripple combined with smaller of the same
Somehow its turbulence seems melodious
 
With each whistle there is an air of purpose
As each needle finds its soiled cotton surface
There is never a darkened day or an unkind night
Just as light is the character of the present, shadow is the outline of hindsight
 
In the chasm of the eye there are shackled secrets
And the power of the sun ignites them
Ablaze it passes through your lies and into the truth
The possibilities are endless for those with such a talent
 
In the shallow of sleep the sun interrupts progress
Simultaneous illusions travel directly into its path
The vibrant heat like the centre of a passionate heart
The ship swirling and violent, like its vessel the thoughts are torn apart
 
Hope has become a cloak that has masked the truth
Evacuate, evacuate! Plentiful ignorance’s from care bound creatures
They look upon a flower and visit its price
They look upon mine eye and uncover my cloak-and-knife
 

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