RELIVING
RAIN
a
poemvolume
by
(images for the
poems compiled)
1.IN VAIN…
I am passing through a difficult terrain
Half-slain
Scorching
Slippery
Misleading
Morbid
Ailing
All alone
Have to move on
Shouldering the burden of something unbearable
The climate remains unfavourable.
Somethings have no variables.
By and by
Time slips by
Turning untraceable
Moments too precious
There are things
Never to be regained
Maimed
Pained to the core
Standing at razor’s edge
Pledge losing its potential
Bruised
Bleeding
Bemoaning
The heart reels in a swirl
Ringa-ringa-roses
Falls down from a terrible height
The fool of an ass it is
Attempting to sleep in vain
With the spirit broken
Hickory Dickory dock
Ho, damn the clock….
2.BEYOND THE REALM OF LANGUAGE…..
Words for Verse;
Cell for Sell;
Right for Write;
Night for Knight;
Die for Dye;
Bye for By;
Try for Tri;
High for Hai
Sunny for Sonny;
Mini for Many;
Weak for Week;
Wage for Rage…..
Even Entry for Country;
Number for November;
Ganja for Ganges;
The list goes on.
In the heat of brain
at boiling temperature
Spelling turns nonsense,
Meaning losing its substance
I keep taking down
the dictation
as an ‘out of control’ automation.
“What’s wrong?” asks the boss.
Why and how to share with him
the extent of my loss?
Taking leave I set out in the afternoon.
Having a moon-lit walk under the 106°C Sun
somewhat mitigates the impact of the
Inferno within.
Though I keep trying to zip in a poem
the all too expansive files of my travails,
beyond the realm of language remain
My ravages and full-throated wails.
3.LOSING THE ESSENCE……
Indeed a very pathetic sight it is -
Seeing the butterfly without wings...
and struggling to fly;
to soar high……
The strenuous effort
taking away the sheen of its hues,
left high and dry
so softly it cries
the sound of which escapes even those nearby.
Standing away and witnessing its plights
I merely sympathize,
sporting even a bemused smile.
But, metamorphosing into that very insect
I turn bruised to the core;
could barely breathe…..
Has it lost its heavenly wings _
Oh, when and where….?
Or, were they always
a mere semblance?
‘Better to have had it and lost it
than to have never had it at all’
They say….
Perceptions do change
on the brink of collateral damage….
Growing in age
is no gateway to heaven….
Wings intact
is what constitutes
Paradise Perfect.
