Kitchen and sundial
(To Alison and the surreal circus-IV)
Reeling in, rolling in the scene, words, smells, senses
she looks at, what seems like misguided tour of ruins;
what has been, till this day, her kitchen. She smiles.
Vacations, sometimes, change many things. Good and bad.
The cat, son, her husband; everyone, make faces
of blameless, innocent persons, pets. Whose antic
is this? She may not want to know. Right this moment
her indulgence is boundless; her mind is playing
fiddle with strings of memories from the travel.
Green of her small garden is dotted with colors,
surprised her. Time actually has not been stopped
during her absence, though it is hard to believe.
What she has not seen, exists; the old sundial
laughs at her; rewinds frames; whispers, “See!”
© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar
Voices
Waste not, want not.
My grandfather had told once.
I have heard
though I have never seen him
other than beneath a dusty glass
framed for eternity.
Still I have been wasting time on futile harvests
and I find my grand father is whispering something else.
“The things that are burnt, does not become lie, void.”
It is assuring to hear you again.
I told the droning voice.
© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar
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Comments: 37
Really Excellent Poems"!!!! Your writings are always wonderful"
I know you will like them. Now I am glad.
Kitchen and sundial
Charming, dear Poddar! :-)
Blessings and best wishes - S.
Another 10 for you
Good ones, Kushal. "Tour of ruins"--ha ha!
The first poem seems to be a wonderful tribute to Alison, even though I don't know her very well.
Thank you for posting this to The Surreal Circus.
i love this new surreal series you are doing, Kushal
Featured in The Triple Name Club
Thanks for posting on Getting to 3000 Together
These are beautiful! I especially like the imagery of the kitchen
Very lovely poem. Nice job.
Seems like you are trying on a different style here - less images more deliberation about the ideas - like this idea: Time actually has not been stopped
during her absence, though it is hard to believe.
What she has not seen, exists; the old sundial
laughs at her; rewinds frames; whispers, "See!"
This one uses the images to expertly illustrate a concept - less sensory than some of your other poems but equally interesting.
I love them all but Voices is my favorite. Reminds me a lot of when my Grandpa Downey use to tell stories of the army and wars. My favorite part was the first two lines.
Waste not, want not.
My grandfather had told once.
The image of futile harvests is a powerful one. I enjoyed "Voices" a great deal - it has the touch of the personal and the mysterious merging as one. Very nicely done.
"Kitchen and Sundial" is a charming poem; there's a playfulness in it that speaks well of your versatility as a writer.
Thank you for sharing your work.
Nice.
Excellent tribute to my cousin, Alison. I enjoy the surreal aspect of the second poem, too. Thank you for posting to our group.
The way we relate to the passage of even a short time can vary dramatically depending on circumstance. Excellent, Kushal.
Kushal, I enjoyed each one of these very, very much, and got a real kick out of the one for Alison. The concept of time not standing still resonated with me, as I often told my husband that after he had been gone for months at a time while in the Navy. The men always came back as if everything had stayed the same since the day they left, and of course, nothing had. Kids grow, challenges change, shows on tv change. Everything changes. My grandfathers both died before we were born too, and while we would hear about them, we also never were able to meet them.
Both of these definitely were of thoughts and feelings that meant a lot to me.
Very nice
I have that 'coming back from holiday' feeling every day when I see what terror Caesar has wrought in my kitchen!LOL
We keep the words of our ancestors in our subconscious!
Thanks for commenting on Kitchen and sundial . Here a cylocne nicknamed "Ayla" has just passed and I am in a divastated city.
Oh no! devastated! how is your computer working?
Yesterday night, I drew a blank. Now it is working. 24 deaths are weighing everything.
that is awful. Such is nature. With cyclones, hurricanes and torndadoes and earthquakes, the earch is clearing and cleaning and re-aligning!
My favorite lines:
...though I have never seen him
other than beneath a dusty glass
framed for eternity.
Most people can relate to that--especially those of us with interest in researching family history and reading about--or even imagining who they really were. I love it.
Thanks Laree
These are good.
I miss my grandfathers.
Jiminey Crickets Indai Brother, I like these. Especially the kitchen in ruins. Big smile. I once was married and I once worked with the most motley of construction crews. One day about two weeks after the honeymoon, my crew and I stopped by my place for lunch but my wife wasn't home so we helped ourselves to a feast of leftovers and sandwiches but having only an hour. we had no time to clean up.
To put it mildly, my wife was not prepared for the 'kitchen in ruins' she stumbled in on after we went back to work. Hell, she thought we had a break-in and called my office - this was way before the incessant use of cell phones.
On 'Kitchen and Sundial':
"What she has not seen, exists; the old sundial
laughs at her; rewinds frames; whispers, “See!”
I like this! It made me smile.
On 'Voices':
So good to remember the voices of long ago, a person who is gone still speaks to us. I like that you remember him this way!
Poddar, what inspires your writings? They're very good.
I am so sorry to hear about the cyclone. Is your friend Devaa okay?
Are you okay? What is it like there now?
very nicely done!
thanks!
I like your perspective, nice share.
Great job,I never met my grandfathers,only saw pics and heard alot about them.
Ah indeed. Time doesn't stop, and no matter how hard we try, we never get ahead of it.
Thanks for posting to Writing Reservoir