Here among streets of unseasonal rain
I’ve wondered and groped in misguiding
mists,
Tempted by traces of street-corner smiles
Flickered from the hallways of dreams.
Clouds still are up in congested valves,
My heart now veined as drought-ridden
fields.
Borne in the hibernal currents of breeze
How shall I shore my anchorless bark
That is tossed among dismembered leaves?
Crossed by the buses with shutters up
raised
I stutter in coupes with lamps without
light.
Peeping through gaps of doorways now closed
I yearn for the unlimited fragrance of sun
Where flickers might flower and colour my
grey
And shower my sails with petals of spring.
12 comments:
lovely last two lines...and the image of the anchorless bark is i think a recurrent one in your poetry...any particular reasons for that??
on the whole, very strong images..but the usage of the words "unseasonal rain" may be lost on those who are unaware why this is "unseasonal". i, as a calcuttan understand the entire backdrop of it...a few lines on the winter that it was would have been profound..
Yeah! I can finally comment (for awhile only a blank page appeared)... I much enjoyed this, Abin.
Wonderful poem, Abin. I especially loved the last stanza!
An incredibly inclusive poem. Exceptionally creative.
Here is my entry:
http://jackedwardspoetry.blogspot.com/2012/01/january-sales.html
I like the nature weaving in your posts...If its just rain, I can wait for spring and the sun ~
The final stanza conveys such yearning, such need. Strong imagery and conciseness make this a well-written piece.
This was fun to read. It describes a hauntingly lonely scene. I especially like the last two lines.
http://judyidliketosay.blogspot.com/2012/01/blog-hop.html
This is particularly meaningful to me as the rainy season arrives rather late in SA. We had 115 cm of rain this weekend.. flood times!
So much to love in this..misguiding mists...clouds up in congested valves...unlimited fragrance of sun...a really great piece
Raining here today, too. It's not forever.
Borne in the hibernal currents of breeze
How shall I shore my anchorless bark
That is tossed among dismembered leaves?
You have the words and I seem to have posted the pictures to go with them!
Where flickers might flower and colour my grey
And shower my sails with petals of spring.
Sigh. Just beautiful.
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