haiku
two boys ride
a broken car
sun sets at the junkyard
=© 2009-Copyright reserved Kushal Poddar (reprinting is absolutely prohibited, without permission)
The scent of Monday
She leaves after cleaning
all the telephones and faxes.
The scent of those rare flowers
she has seen till this Monday
lingers for her next visit.
=© 2009-Copyright reserved Kushal Poddar (reprinting is absolutely prohibited, without permission)
through the layers of a verdict
The minute’s hand becomes the sweat’s drop,
slowly salting the ancient dial;
hence briny is the waiting. Silent
other than the sound of sea. Promise
that you will take a small vacation
somewhere near the sands wet with waves.
Any moment the courtroom will know
the verdict. The judge parts his red lips.
You wait with a itching skin, dry, white.
If you spread the skin it will cover
the winter’s heartland; black sprouts rising.
=© 2009-Copyright reserved Kushal Poddar (reprinting is absolutely prohibited, without permission)
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Comments: 100
That being said, the line, "The reporter cannot make it whiter than a dream still licking milk," will stay with me for a long time.
How fun, how wild, to ride a car in a junkyard. It can go nowhere, and neither can they.
Who is she, this lingerer? A janitor? A lover? Both? Why does she clean? Why does she visit? Who is this angel of the night?
Waiting for a court to make it's decision. Just or unjust, and what happens now? A vacation? The time is wrong for that. One's life hangs in the balance here. Joyous, or damned? Or could it be nothing more than a parking ticket? All this tension for nothing.
And everything fades white.
ordeals of the non-quitters
I had this strange sense thrioughout these of white not being such a positive thing. Just a feeling that is odd when white vs black, white generally prevails as a positive. Interesting, and maybe it is just my reaction, and also it is not at all a bad thing, just a different portrayal with white reperesenting a negative, which I found intriguing. (Maybe the night is saying my brain needs to sleep, ha!)
Thanks for posting to my group, Anythingwriting
Life is opaque, the earth may be flat, and I may lose an hour of sleep, with no other explanation than the time of day that I vaguely recall my dream ending.
How you managed to make the telephone cleaner girl your target. Yes I do remember, if your friends abroad may or may not, girls visit offices to cleanse the telephone leaving it perfumed - Kushal, in fact I have seen such activity only in Kolkata. A unique process of hygiene. But you have so very well given a rhyme to it. It is more of a climax of your poetic skills.
"Any moment the courtroom will know
the verdict".
Well the verdict is right here. A 100 in place of the usual 10. Thanks for the poems and it indeed is a delight to review them in the mind as the day advances.
well still feature you regardless, lol
Grass Roots Writing
with many thanks
Mark
The minute’s hand becomes the sweat’s drop,
slowly salting the ancient dial;
hence briny is the waiting.
will walk with me today. hugs
tastes like life
tastes like life
tastes like life
"If you spread the skin it will cover
the winter’s heartland; black sprouts rising."
tastes like life
Milk-van Ordeal is mind boggling. That veneer between dream-time and awake, thins and on occasion becomes translucent. This is the breeding ground for the synchronistic events that wink our way. Well Caught.
Driving a rig that's up on blocks was our favorite mode of transporting childhood expeditions. And the junkyard sunset is sublime.
My favorite comedienne when I was a child was Carol Burnett. Her opening act was as the cleaning lady of a performance theater. She'd pause in the spotlight with her mop and bucket and sing like an angel to an empty house and then resume cleaning, alone, but smiling.
Your last poem is simply stunning Kushal. I was sitting right next to you in that courtroom, tense, exhausted and seeing the kindness of offering oneself needed time away.
And now I'll go back and read the other's comments. Congrats on a fine poetic array.
tastes like life