I
My fingertips traced moonlit moments
around the dark areoles of your
fleshy imagination. Your closed
eyes enwrapped the sensation, and
the loo on my lips whispered of the
wonder you felt.
II
O dear! Why must
you color like a rosewater stain; its
only poetry, not a video recording.
III
Sparks only fly when you nails plug-in
the chasms they have created in my back.
Pain, I guess, is the switch we must
flip, before pleasure can be turned on.
IV
My ploughing of these sheets hasn't
produced a single crop. Sweat is so
salty that its useless for irrigation,
and trust me, seeds sprout only when
the season and soil are rightly chosen.
V
O dear! Why must
you color like a rosewater stain; its
only poetry, not really a memoir.
VI
Age has made your ribcage grow,
the bones seem too eager to escape-
the loosely hanging crumbling tissues
that once smelt like sandalwood
have color of dry, decaying grass.
VII
O dear! Your ash in my hand
scalds the grip that once longed to carry newborns.
As I disperse ash into Ganga, our years together
dissolve away in the eternal flow.
Soon, I'll be, in the river too.
April 06, 12:15 am & April 07, 11:00 am!
PS: I guess I post too much stuff that I cannot take pride in, but serves the purpose of experimentation and maybe teasing some people. Here is another experiment, but something I think resembles what I usually write as serious poet must:) and seldom post online!
Do tell me what you think of this one.
English and Hindi poetry & prose, published as well as unpublished, experimental writing. Book reviews, essays, translations, my views about the world and world literature, religion, politics economics and India. Formerly titled "random thoughts of a chaotic being" (2004-2013). A short intro to my work: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CQRBanekNAo
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Friday, April 07, 2006
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1 comment:
Drom dud sea scrawls
meaning of poem
By Vivek on Tue, 2006-04-11 14:34
I insist that a poem is a bunch of emotions and music that the reader sees in the written word. If I have to explain a poem, I think I failed to get my point across.
loo is also used as euphemism for restroom or toilet Smiling So will alter it in next revision (will post that shortly).
About English words and dictionary meanings, I have won many a bets with Americans about the dictionary meanings, but then it does not change the fact that same words have different connotations to them, and if we are talking to them, they understand us differently!
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every poet's tragedy
By atrakasya on Tue, 2006-04-11 15:05
Vivek,
Don’t you think every poet fails to get his point across fully?
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Tragedy and poets? NAAA
By Vivek on Wed, 2006-04-12 13:49
Every poet’s tragedy is being driven to death by this passion to procreate in verse. Comprehension and appreciation is overrated.
1) Most great works cannot be appreciated at the first sight.
2) Poem is a medium where what you comprehend is equally your own problem. Poet has done his job by writing the stuff down; he need not evoke the same sense and sensibility in the reader.
My problem has always been of the details people read into poems that I never thought about: calling them sensual, or calling me lovelorn, or perverse or flatterer or seeking the name of muse or finding religous contexts or throwing questions about tormented childhood Smiling Mostly people think poets are unhappy lot; they need not be.
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vivek
By atrakasya on Tue, 2006-04-11 13:17
O my god! Its happening! I am finally beginning to understand poems written by others! My lifelong dream is coming true!!
Jokes apart, its a well written poem Smiling
Yeah, and that word loo is a bit distracting. Merrium Webster’s online dictionery seems to think that loo is the name of some card game. they may be wrong (I used to write to them to correct their angrezi fundas on words and they did start getting a bit pissed off at me). I am sure we could easily export the word loo from hindi to english, but till then, it is distracting Smiling
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yes atra
By Vivek on Tue, 2006-04-11 12:59
You’re spot on:) Starts from Marriage, goes through childless togetherness, unto death. I wasn’t too happy with the title, and will change it once I find a better one.
“loo on my lips” was meant to be blast of hot air, but since loo as other colloquial meanings, I am going to edit it in next revision.
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vivek
By atrakasya on Tue, 2006-04-11 08:58
this is an interesting poem.
Is it a talking of the life of someone from the point of marriage to the point of the death of the spouse?
And what do you mean by “…loo on my lips…”?
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