No, no I've supped full with horrors tonight;
Ghosts are all welcome to haunt.
Here in the backways of time's blind lanes
We tiptoe in fear among mudways of month
With feet that are unsure of zipcodes of self
In puppetry of shadows at night.
Wafting in breeze amidst crops that are dead
We dance our twists for vultures on air
That patiently will bide the shedding of our skin
As I moult between hours of midnight and dawn
Even as the circus is ground to a halt.
Believe I've tried all isms I'd found
That merely have burnt my saucers in store
And ashened my days full of gravels and grime
Which have built their causeways in heart.
Hence I'm fine with cartels of ghosts
And raise my toast to a montage of graves
With epitaphs of multicoloured pain.
Ground into powders in chronicles of drudge,
How else do I share my blessed bread and wine?
Nailed into shifts with fixity of time
I vanish into anonymous crowds in a rush
That gyrate in ferris-wheel of carnival of rust.
13 comments:
Very enigmatically written. Loved it !!!
this is something to read again and again......
Very depressing. When I read this, I read about one who embraces what cannot be defeated, because his heart has been shaped by many failures to push him toward a simple resolution.
It was meant to be depressing Jack. thanks for the response brother.
I see you are channeling Macbeth's words, and what a fine starting place it is for this moribund poetic introspection.
Depressing, but just a gorgeous write--great piece
This is perfect for Halloween and ghoulish nights of November. I specially like the second stanza though of moulting between midnight and dawn ~ Wishing you happy day Abin ~
Wow. The first line is a total HOOK, and the language throughout is honed to perfection. Love the vultures awaiting the shed skin. LOVE "ashened my days........which have built their causeways in heart." Great write, kiddo!
I loved the closing lines, Abin and I guess, one can feel the need to vanish into a mass of people! Wow ...a bit dark, but undoubtedly beautiful piece:)
this is the first time Im visiting and man Im glad I did...:)
Some excellent images in this dar, but well written, poem, Abin. I especially like:
"Wafting in breeze amidst crops that are dead
We dance our twists for vultures on air...."
Great writing Abin. From tone to word choice this piece is terrific. I like the way your words conjure up images in my mind.
Sounds like a revolt against the commercial/work-a-day work.
A terrifying and exacting vision.
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