When you look back at familiar shadows
Sleepwalking on a shadowy path,
Even a superstition can save the day—
For life ends and begins
At the end of half-dreamt dreams,
Which you sometimes wish
Were longer than life.
Sunday, 17 March 2024
The last to die in an air raid
The last to die in an air raid
In a family of five
Was a boy with two dead eyes—
The news reported.
Or perhaps not,
Why should one bother
For he becomes one of the many victims
The moment they telecast his two dead eyes on screen.
Pain can be collective in this world of wars,
But loss and grief are one’s own.
And grief finds no room
In a world gone numb with pain.
These blood-soaked, bottomless tragedies.
What the news missed was perhaps
How he was squeezing the last tear remaining,
To mourn the death of a whole world
Gone numb with pain,
Oh, pain.
Sunday, 3 March 2024
Leave it open, the baggage
Leave it open
the baggage,
So that it’ll show those who wonder
how heavy an empty baggage could be.
Leave it open
the baggage,
So you won’t fill and refill
It with anything and everything
Knowing how heavy
Even an empty baggage could be.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
-
Apologies for an unintentional fraud, for I am not a competent painter. After racking my brain for a good three hours, trying to find ... -
Oh, how far we've come searching for faith in a world on fire. Faith in our notions of our nations propaganda since the age of maps— div...
-
Rewatching— Moving pictures of the ‘best’ of times Backlit by the fire we lit, Enormous and detailed Shadow-dancing on street walls And wh...