Calcutta Poems - Poems about Calcutta

I love a radish in the springtime! I love a radish in the fall! I take my car and park it, There at the farmer's market, And buy out every radish stall! If there’s kohlrabi, I’ll buy a few A tasty turnip I will not eschew, But I love a radish when the sun’s up, And even more when it begins to set, But...

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Aching is my heart for you Withering my very soul. A crack will turn me pale blue Only you can halt the toll. Teresa of Calcutta Empathize for my poor sake. Why not look at this nutter Hoping to be yours to take. After all, I am to blame Killed of my wonderful good. All I am is a failed game Prayers to you under my...

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There was an old chap from Calcutta, Who bought a new wood as a putter. ‘A bogey?’ he coughed. ‘This green isn’t soft -’ And swallowed a ball in mid-splutter. For Craig’s Golf limerick contest, 31st March...

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Far from the madding crowd I treasure the myths you gone through Once I walk down the streets of legends Even the weeping dusts reminds me of Bloods, who immolated their lives to you. Oh Calcutta! You live with a pride For ages you are loved They valued glory above life itself When they speak of valiance And guns are still fired...

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Calcutta. Hot and unberable in the searing summer heat and unberarable for more reasons than the heat. In a popular tourist cafe an American widow obsesses on her dead husband: she has a bundle of photos, letters and other mementos to show as she tells stories, ad-nauseum, about his now stiff prowess as a prolific...

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