Postmen came here

yes! postmen poem =)

Yes.

I could never see me being a mail lady. I do not want the burden of carrying bad news to someone.

I know. But everything has so many sides, even the news.

you're right. doctors too.

nowadays you know manythings about doctors. Visiting often:P

=D too often. mom too. runs in the family I guess.

a lot of my problems health wise is due to stress. stress is the devil.

I know it's stress. stress is also making my hair fall out.

being lost can feel like being stuck on bobwire. esp. if one knows not where they are.

I saw this leaf and barbwire while walking towards office yesterday.

loved that one. I love how you observe life.

I know you do too. write about them. Your cricket, your garden or the blue bedsheet.

I shall. love crickets.

sighs posted

I'm digging your Haiku!

I am honored.

I'll never forget the smell of someone who has died. It's a smell I don't wanna smell again.

Me too. But it is a bitter truth.

you're right. I problem will encounter the smell again. hopefully not anytime soon.

Not anytime soon. I know.

That was wonderful.

Thank you Frank.

Waiting for the post is not what it used to be!

Right Georgiana

their subconscious carries
moments whispered on blank pages,

... very poignant expression, Poddar. I enjoyed this very much.

Thank you Barbara

Yes, yes, yes! What wonderful work.

I see my postman friend carrying those messages. My last messages to him were congratulations and a book title written on a piece of paper. We used to have metaphysical conversations together.

"retires" should be "retire"

The haiku is fabulous. However, I hope I do not become that lost traveler on the barbed wire, lol. I leave tonight at 1 a.m. B-Dawg will drive me to Poulsbo to catch a bus to the airport.

Great son. Take care.

Thanks, dear friend.

Yes, he is!

"Proclaim" is just the right word.

I thought so. Thank you again and again Alison.

Don't forget the owls

You read my mind! ;-)

He put the piece of paper in his wallet.

[Money often means consciousness, as a dream image or symbol]

thanks again, as the crow flies

Ha ha. Thank you Richard

Great work, Kushal, particularly The Postmen.

Thank you Elizabeth

The theme of the postman is so rich with stories. I never see ours. Our box is down the dirt road. I get home in the dark and roll the window down as I pass the box, reach in and grab the mail then up the path to the farm.

I can see the darkness following your footsteps as you are coming back home with those mails.

postman revisited

It is so dark in the woods. We have cougar and coyotes as well as black bear. I like to think that the Great Horned Owl has befriended me and stands watch.

Wow. I would like to live there.

Tis' great Kushal keep up the good work.
You write so many thing, What do you do with them? Put them in a book.

If I get a chance....

Reminds me of the minstrels who travelled from castle to castle, singing their news and commentary. And the homing pigeon with it's uncanny dependability.

Exactly John

Good stuff!

Thanks Darin

Kushal - Postman reminds me of my life at the backside of Howrah station, precisely on Belilias Road. That was during 1982, the time when the digging for Metro rail was picking up around Esplanade and round about.

Yes, this postman tried his trick on me for a mere Rs.2. He refused to hand over my MO after I had met him at the Howrah Post Office. He just needed some tips. He started saying that he did not know me. I advised him that I was at the Post Office on his beckoning me, that the MO had come from so and so in Delhi of this address. No he would not budge. Ultimate is that I left the post office in a huff. Well finally the MO was delivered at my office address after he got my address from my own house.

A year later my brother from Kerala sent me a registered letter. The Postman remembered that I had refused him tips last time and he straight away sent back the registered letter with a note "Not Known". I received the same letter back in an ordinary envelope, which is delivered without any problem. Immediately I placed the entire story in the newspapers. On the appointed day when the letter was published with perfect proof of my letter and the imprint of the registered letter returned and the ordinary envelope that brought it back. I collected ten copies of the newspaper and gave cutouts of it with my detailed letter to the Post Master General West Bengal Circle, Director General etc etc. To cut a long story short, the Postman was immediately suspended.

Well, later after about a week or so, seeing his plight, and having sympathy for his family who are dependent on him, I forgave him and revoked the suspension with a warning that it should not repeat. Have I taken extra time from you?

Well, very good poems and my above story is a witness to the beauty of your poems. Thanks.

Yes, vinod sadly it is common. Nowadays it is of course fading with high competetion from private couriors.
Thank you.

Not at all. You have not taken extra time. On the contrary you have revealed a bitter truth from the past

The brevity shone beauty like a pale moon.
Then, as the glow subsided, I remembered.
A friend, knowing I wrote poetry, showed me

a site where phrases come together, randomly.
I tried, made many interesting thoughts spring
from the paper, liked the simplicity, felt the magic.

In the remorse afterwards, I deleted the site,decided
to continue to use the muse, to sit and write the hard
way, to trust my own creativity where true magic resides.

Peace.

(no copyright because I believe people will respect my words)

Brilliant.

jerome k. - the government GIVES you an instant copyright - even your grocery list is fully automatically copyrighted.

Just so you know.

Hi Ku, It is a sad thing that the delivery can depend on where you live and who the postman is. The laws can apply to a posted letter, whereas not to a phone call. Even if it takes cutting more trees, I prefer the words and letters. Email is second best, but I am no slave to the phone. I may be old-fashioned, but that is what I have to say.

Have you seen the movie, The Postman? It is very good. The US suffers from war, than reconstructed by Pony Express.

I have seen the Postman. it is planted within me.

Very sobering read. All are good, my personal favorite is "The Last Letter"
As always great writing!

thanks

I liked all three, the second was a bit dark

Yes, it is. Thank you Katharyne

As always great writing and a nice collection
10 4 u

Thank you Jeanette

so unique~ =)

Thanks Purr

Thanks for posting to GutterGirls~

Another great one~

Thanks Diane

A theme of the intangible lingering in the tangible, a favorite theme and metaphor of mine.


Featured in the Triple Name Club.

Thanks Kathy

Great poem, a postman's job is never finished!!
We love to wait for him !! sometimes not!

Thank you Angel

The postmen of the past,
were different then,
had time for us,
to chat, to get out of their postal cars,
deliver right to someone's door,
inside their house if they needed it.

I remember one... who cared like that,
he is no more. Retired, I hope,
enjoying his life,
I wait for the next death,
as the crows hover.

Marilyn

Marilyn have you posted this? Brilliant.

Having received letters for a deceased person, I love the second poem. It's the equivalent of pings on the profile of a dead person-- a very haunting memorial.

Thanks for sharing with the Surreal Circus.

Thank you Ann

My own mail service is always a cause for worry - but your writing was enjoyable.

Thank you Peter

Never know when ours will come, but he gets here.

Thank you Sharon

Your welcome.

A moving poem, Kushal. Thanks.

thank you john

Very good Kushal, as your poetry always is. Have a great day.

Thank you Jennifer

Thank you for always sharing your beautiful poetry with us at Gather.

The last letter was very good! I loved the reference to the black crows in the tree. Well done, as usual.

Thank you Vivi

"We could bury them, but won’t."

Great line, solid metaphor. We could do many things, but don't.

Wow! at last. My mentor is back. Thank you Karl.

I'm much like stepping in dung. No matter what, you can't get rid of me.

Who wants to! I have written to all of my friends about the first step I took in this language and who supported me.

I recall you cringing, waiting for my reviews.

I still do.

Will you

My new

http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977887537

You say so much about the postman's life with so few words.
Brilliant.


MySpace Comments

Thanks for posting to my group, Anythingwriting

Cute comment angela.

Living is a disabled/senior citizen complex we are surrounded by death it seems. I don't know how the mailman keeps up with it.
Featured at Grass Roots Writing
with many thanks Kushal
Mark

Sorry Mark.
Thanks for the feature.

Crows are ancient emblem of death
this time the men are post instead of hollow.
the will was delivered after the writer's last breath?
But I could be wrong, I'm struggling to follow...
I try my best to understand and then
Because I can't, I gave it a ten.