Throbbing on the waves
Of silence of night
I pierce into dark
And search for my stars
But clash instead
With comets of loss
That hurtle my being
Into orbits of doubt,
Flung beyond telescopic gaze.
The streets now surge
And storm into rage
And claim their futures
From coffers of fraud.
Sealed into chambers of shuttles of self
I gaze beyond windows and long
To plunge into streets and fuse
With stars that'll constellate in hope.
15 comments:
Wow! Those last two lines are epic, Abin. A fantastic mood piece, for sure.
Abin, this is a wonderful poem. Out of loss can arise hope! We have to believe.
Thank you for mentioning Kamala Das on my site. I had not heard of her, but after your mention I googled her and read some of her poems. I like them.
Abin,
A very nicely written poem. It offers a form of escape!
Eileen
Hello.
I'm visiting from The Poetry Pantry.
This is really good.
I like how you ended it too.
Nicely penned.
Thanks for sharing.
Bashful Lady
I love the title... very moving piece.
yes, abin, love this one. your writing is so strong, clear, focused, that's a great thing. i particularly love your use of "constellate." oh and also your contraction "that'll." LOVE.
Beautifully constructed and consistent in your stars/space/comets imagery. Nicely done!!!
a star will be born....HEAR O HEAR!
So powerful. The title grabbed me and makes an amazing final line. This entire poem blazes across my vision much like the comets you write about.....such force and energy in your constellation of words. Wow.
Gorgeous words and excellent visual offerings. There are great lines in here:
The streets now surge And storm into rage
and I love how you come back to the streets here:
To plunge into streets and fuse With stars that'll constellate in hope
Very touching. I loved "comets of loss". Well done!
I like how you have placed your "you," your "center," your "emotional self," into the stars for objective observation.
An excellent response.
love the message here,
mind blowing imagery.
I love the way you put together such startling images, and esp. I admire the way you use the verbs as the engines in your poems to do the heavy lifting; yours are such muscular poems.
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