Sonnet Mondal is the author of six books of poetry including a poetry bestseller and is the pioneer of the 21 line fusion sonnet form of poetry. His works have been published in several International literary magazines and have been translated into Macedonian, Italian, Arabic,Hindi,Telugu and Bengali. He was awarded Poet Laureate from Bombadil Publishing in 2009, Doctor of Literature from United Writers' Association in 2010, Azsacra International Poetry award in 2011 and was inducted in the prestigious Significant Achievements Plaque in the museum of Bengal Engineering an Science University, Shibpur. He has also been a featured poet at World Poetry Reading Series, Canada and Asian American Poetry project, U.S.A.At present he is the managing editor of The Enchanting Verses journal of poetry.At present he is the managing editor of the Enchanting Verses Journal of Poetry.

Two Poems (July 20, 2011. Issue 29.)

Those Soft Fingers

Just another uneventful day
Creeps in disguise
Of the deceptive dawn;
Enveloped within
Shades and light
To blur realty.

The day keeps ringing
Through the words
Of directionless crowd
Set in Brownian motion.

Darkness enters and
I sat in my chair,
Lighted the table lamp
And wondered
About the girl whose
Fingers locked with mine
While hanging half inclined
In the crowded bus.

The night in its
Daily job pushes
Me into the whirlwind
Of nasty thoughts
And makes me ponder
If I am correct.

Sleep doesn't dare to
Crawl into the
Fire of lust.

The beer bottle topples over
And floods the table cloth.
I see my reflection
In alcohol.
My face falls over it-
I enter into slumber.

I was addicted,
Not to lust but to love
Those soft fingers.

Wake Up My Wife

Another loss and still the palpitating gravels
Crave for the interplay of Sun and clouds,
Shudder in rain and rays.
Tears lost in showers and sucked up by rays
never stand so stoic to tame tremors
collapsing the thin-skinned walls of heart.
The waterfall rushing from heaven,
once enjoyed with you
Seems to fracture into harrowing sobs...
Me, not an alcoholic feel my hands
Moving out of control, free into space
Pulling me to swim in the among
Comments and forged consolations.

Decades ago,
You were my friend and a humorous counterpart
And a rival of my strong-willed reflections.
For years you were my wife, wearing bangles
Striking music upon my affluence and with a soul
sharing same night breath through falling hairs...

My lips yearn for a kiss from the dead now.