Run, soul run (Don’t ask where)
When the train has passed, you can still see them,
coming, sweaty with the long chase and noon.
As we are turning our head, running
again my eyes move over the still sky,
our feet are floating over the dirt,
rubbishes, broken pieces of homes
human wastes and other things discarded.
Run, brother run….
The stealing is no fun, a life, breathing,
alive, an element in a world we live
and can’t leave. Run, soul run before they catch.
The parallel rails smuggle sun to some
distant fate everyday evening and
only then we return to the makeshift slum
with young souls still on a long long run…. © 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar
Howling method of teaching a poem
The classroom on a monsoon
tires itself; I can only
reiterate my catch line,
“As I told you in my last class,
had anyone tried to howl
towards the moon emitting
your wasted wishes or grief?”
I can only cross my fingers
in hope that they may recall
me from my poems once taught.
Wasted wishes spawn clouds.
The classroom on a monsoon
tires itself; nothing invades
in the mind; the pale shadows
of rain float over wild grass.
I am the lonely one here.
Teaching, being taught at once
The howling methods to know
a poem, to understand.
“Had anyone tried to howl
like I told you to last time?”
No one but me and my shadow
howls together… inside.
=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar
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Comments: 77
the pale shadows
of clouds float over grass.
I am the lonely one here.
My fav. line.
-R.
BTW, I haven't been getting notices of your posts Kushal. This morning I thought I'd bring up your page to see for myself. Now I'll endeavour to do so more often.
Now I think to myself, why did I click into your piece first, why didn't I know to get my sluggish brain working on less substantial pieces first to warm up and then come to this. One poem of yours is like a lifetime lesson, a book of years. A consciousness before modern life wiped out its depth. I think Carl Jung could very well be on the mark. Strangely though, it has not exhausted me, the energy of the running feet revitalize me instead. Maybe it is good I clicked here first with a brain not already cluttered by more mundane things.
Supravat, kemon acho?
Dhanyabad. (Now bigger smile.)
As always, I enjoy your use of imagery and metaphor. Thanks.
"The lost empire of knowledge//feeds the weeds and sporadic tourists." I think these lines from "Howling class" are exceptional. A very unique write; this "Howling class"...
In poem number two, I'm having trouble connecting the middle stanza with the other two. It's almost as if there are two poems instead of one.
Thank you for posting to The Surreal Circus.
Howling class
As I told you in my last class,
(you may remember me from
that last class or poems like
‘Howl’, ‘Gray wolf’, ‘Mute music’)
had anyone tried to howl
towards the moon emitting
your wasted wishes or grief?
The classroom on a monsoon
tires itself; nothing invades
in my mind; the pale shadows
of clouds float over grass.
I am the lonely one here.
Teaching and being taught at once.
The ancient walls of this
broken university
make painting with their damp spots.
The lost empire of knowledge
feeds the weeds and sporadic tourists.
Had anyone tried to howl
like I told you to last time?
The stray dogs resting in the ruin
looks at me and promises
that we shall howl at the moon
together… tonight… solemnly…
=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar
Blessings and best wishes - S.
distant fate everyday evening...from Run, soul, run. It speaks of hope.
To the first, it is the journey not the destination that matters most, I think. It's not how far you get, but how hard you try to get there.
To the second, I say the duality of the soul and the mind may howl, but it is the creative center of the heart that roars the loudest.
hugs, poddar.
There is a lingering sadness to many of Poddar's pieces.
He writes these feelings very well.
I wish you could run away and never return to the makeshift slum.
Needless to say.....always remember how important it truly is to keep howling!
Great job Poddar!
Haim Kadman Aug 5, 2009, 2:02pm EDT
I'm on the run with that great poem of yours, having snatched it from you, sort of dear Poddar.
Thanks for posting to my group, Anythingwriting
Be back for another read.