Farewell dreams of history

forgetting history

(To Richard Lynn Livesay)

We have measured the river and the flood

by the rise and fall of the moon’s lonely

empire each night. When the high tide comes,

moon’s progress has swept the Fertile Crescent.

We have kneeled before a naked sky and

over us the hanging moon has resolved

promises only to break at the dawn;

of course moon is like those other monarchs

history keeps in its heart by rote

but we forget. We forget and forgive,

like an old-fashioned wife befitting herself.

© 2009-Copyright reserved Kushal Poddar

Farewell dreams

A farewell shall never go well

and as we have planned.

There must be shortage of time

to conjure all and sum up everything.

A coffin or a glorious sarcophagus,

a cremation pier…

a land of dream…

and where no one shall tread

as poet had said.

All these disarrayed with wind,

sudden gale or simple mistakes

taken seriously.

At least we may see the couple

meeting over there, over cold stone,

at night,

surreptitiously.

At least we may dream

of the life which still pursues

precisely what we have dreamed.

=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar