The past-
Simply happened-
Ripples untangled, and refractions
Stroked my oozing dreams of skies
That changed colour, infrequently.
The present-
Came on eerie tip-toes-
Chants of doom on lips
That dripped with poisonous elixir,
Your love and mine, blackmagic.
The future-
Gliding grace and our vows-
And the camouflage of photographs
That shall endorse transformations,
But not its eclipsed dimensions.
Simply happened-
Ripples untangled, and refractions
Stroked my oozing dreams of skies
That changed colour, infrequently.
The present-
Came on eerie tip-toes-
Chants of doom on lips
That dripped with poisonous elixir,
Your love and mine, blackmagic.
The future-
Gliding grace and our vows-
And the camouflage of photographs
That shall endorse transformations,
But not its eclipsed dimensions.
3 comments:
the poems seem to be climbing up the complexity-ladder (which does not put me down, it inspires instead). here we have three divisions threaded in "time". past in its helplessly 'happened' mode; present in a 'happening-but-magically-inordinate' mode and future in a 'reverie-cum-augury' frame. with the defining middle-piece (present) the 'black magic' extends to both past and future. life and its regular time-frame together emerge as an act of elaborate exorcism. the past was a victim of the haunt. refractions passed through the dreams where skies changed colour: you couldnt catch the time. instead, the ooze of dreams counted the seconds. it was dream-time: unreal. the present feels the haunt's pain, and we have our exorcist in hidden play. we see and taste and painstakingly recognise the occult. and future, holds its promise. vows and grace would glide over the lived time. photographs, an explicitly outside-world symbol, would endorse the metamorphosis. somehow there will filter in a feeling that the world has at last come to stay within. but by then, we would have already started missing the uncertain anxieties of presnt and past. we shall disown the exorcism in favor of the haunt.
the poem is a living tissue. (i killed it in prose)
Thanks Kichu & chinnu
Heres a line from a total outsider to the world of litearature....Looks like your writting is like good wine....each work of yours cronologically,gets better, feels better....
This one, I loved it babe! Touched me...a few things even i can relate to.....It's got the effect of watching a good movie!
Keep churning out such creations...
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