Spotlight: Parthita Dutta

Hi All

It's a perfect day to share with you the work of an individual I find highly talented. It is an honor, here on the Jimmy Broccoli page and website, to spotlight the writings of poet Parthita Dutta.

I've been a reader of Parthita's poetry for quite awhile now. Her work is smart, imaginative, and consistently outstanding. She is the recipient of many accolades from various organizations and groups and they are very much deserved.

Here is Parthita in her own words:

Parthita Dutta, whose inquiring mind strives to evolve with each new day by acquiring knowledge of all spheres. She delves deep into her life experiences and observations and preserves the essence in the form of poetry, which she presents to the world. She was born and raised in Kolkata, India. She had completed her education in computer science and engineering. Since her school days, her heart has been weaving poetry in solitude, thus in due time, she felt more a poet has been flourishing within herself in the full scape.

Her debut book “The Boatman Beckons”; released on 8th October 2021, published internationally by Notion Press, India. Her poetry also published in several anthologies and magazines, among them few are Absolute Poetry Anthology (UK), Asia Sings Anthology (Silk Road Literature), Encyclopedia of a Thousand Poets: The Candles of Hope (Tunisia), Sindh Courier Web Portal for world Literature (Pakistan), Sungurlu Newspaper (Turkey), News Kashmir, Litterateur International Magazine, Cultural Reverence International Magazine, Williwash Webzine, etc. She participated in several virtual poetry forums, internationally. She writes poetry that covers a vast domain of thought from grass to galactic gleam. Her poetry evokes a divine essence, drawing attention to all mundane things under microscopic view is insightful and a beacon for awakening spiritual love, harmony, and peace.

It is an honor to share Parthita's poems with you today. And, I'm certain you'll love them as much as I do! ______________

They Bloom

They bloom in geometry

on my bosom's boulevard

by drinking the extract

of my generous love mist

Their canopy spreads wings

limitless unto my bountiful sky

like streaming morn rays

Their taproots drill deep

into the soil of my soul

like a Shephard tree

in the parched land

Family: a compact, cubic kin

surrounds a cerulean fallacy.

When they break and bust

in autumn, my spring fades

yet when those hands depart,

I do not remain fertile-

and full in my elemental clay!

O, heart! Spare my soul.

Don't let me be desert devoid of moisture.

Let the bliss flow to eternity

for I am still his, whom I belong. ______________

Pendulum

Yes, I am living, fiddling

with my life, and in my head

the old temple bell resounds

till today on the hillock,

the anxiety of alteration

ensuing in the wheel of time.

All those narrow roads,

a few relics and others are

tucked by gossiping turf…

The tall oak, deodar grew old

and Creeping Juniper leaped,

they know, what would unfold

as the pendulum oscillates,

a change is taking place.

The flaws indelible aren't seen

in Edison's filament, is jaunty

the epidermis of Aphrodite,

worn as pampered beauty.

From my bone, the soggy fat

tells a tale: a change is taking place

and I lament in the memory cassock

for my old town, and old man, lost.