Wild horse and shackles
A wild horse today invades in my jungle of dreams,
and I think of you. Moving. Departing our ol’city.
I have been watching like the time I watched my playmate
moving out to a new nest in some other town;
my nose pressed to the window pane, eyes glued, thoughts blank and
this time too I cannot join; too many things to bundle;
too many summing ups, uprooting; fears crawl in
like centipedes of a humid, damp rainy season.
‘The wild horse leaving me’ feelings strangle you, make you choke;
a city grows into a pane, inside of which I live
and my freedom-eater mundane things glisten with memories.
Memories of liberty and memories against it,
memories of shackles and how much I am it. I am.
A shackle. A bit rusty it is, for my absent mind.
© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar


Comments: 46
Featured in the Triple Name Club.
This would be a keen example. Most fine!
Blessings and best wishes - S.
"and my freedom-eater mundane things glisten with memories"
Full of feelings.
Thank you for posting this to The Surreal Circus.
Yes, I like this. Especially the mundane things that will glisten in memory.
I love it.
Thanks for posting to my group, Anythingwriting
HUGS AMONG FRIENDS ~
Rene
This is a wonderful poem. We all must throw off our shackles to live free.
I like this one :)
I need to be freed