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Behind locked doors and closed windows: 1

I find myself in that dark abyss Cruel, malefic, and conscious I know not what I'm writing The purpose or the reason There's no escape route visible Clamouring for breath Screams muffled into whimpers My head hurts— A lot Oh it hurts, it hurts, it hurts I haven't seen love If it's meant to be seen I haven't felt love If it's meant to be felt I haven't tasted love If it's meant to be tasted What is love? I heard, the first glimpse into this rare jewel Is given by the primary caregivers I know not who they are Are they those two bodies— The ones screaming behind the screen The air heavy with a charge That doesn't feel positive Is this love? Then I have ample I see them while I play with Jojo and Mojo It's always those dramatic flailing of arms The crude expressions- theatrical They call me expressive Probably got it from my mother They call my articulation grave Probably got it from my father They see me debating on stage Say I have it in me- a gif...
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Poesie

I carry the mist and the seas in my eyes.
Tempestuous thoughts in a cloudy canopy,
Vaulting my mind.
Wild west wind waging wars,
Up the rocky cliff o'er the heath
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of red tulips
Like slain soldiers, eschewed.
The sea of faith had once pulsated
My heart, with jocund and gallant tides.
Now a dessert painted
In spectre-grey, reminiscing
The ancient pulse of germ and birth.
Here's the last leaf my ink lingered on.


This poem is an amalgamation of excerpts from and allusions to poets and authors, such as Thomas Hardy, William Wordsworth, Percy Bysshe Shelley, Sylvia Plath, Matthew Arnold, Emily Bronte and O. Henry, which are enumerated below with line numbers.

(2) cloudy canopy: The Darkling Thrush by Thomas Hardy (line 11)
(4) Wild west wind: Ode to the West Wind by P.B. Shelley (line 1)
(5) cliff...heath: Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte (the protagonist Heathcliff)
(6-7) When all at once... A host, of  : I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud by William Wordsworth (line 3-4)
(7) red tulips: Tulips by Sylvia Plath (line 36)
(9) sea of faith: Dover Beach by Matthew Arnold (line 21)
(12) spectre-grey: The Darkling Thrush by Thomas Hardy (line 2)
(13) The ancient... birth: The Darkling Thrush by Thomas Hardy (line 13)
(14) last leaf: Last Leaf by O. Henry (the title)

In conclusion, the poem remains an attempt to enunciate the empathetic quality of nature, aptly rendered by our predecessors, in varied times through varied modes of literature.

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Radnaf D'silva said…
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30 June 2024 at 19:01
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