T r e a d Softly... YOU MIGHT TRIP ON TEXT


Tuesday, April 03, 2007

Poems On A String

I thought I'd post a few poems this time. They are
on my website, but this seemed a good enough time.








DUSK
when the sun dips as if forever,
when streaks of feeling
silver the horizon's brow
and the waves start up in excitement,
frothing and insatiable,
my thoughts betray me
and i can barely feel the world...






ART OF CYCLING
the red new bike, barely smaller than his eight year-old frame
totters in a straining arc of steel and young thigh,
the quick of possession has already settled to drudgery and fear,
and his rolling screams are repeating a pattern.
i can close my eyes and doodle away those days of sentiment
like fluorescent on virgin canvas.

my dreams are squeezed out in futile doses
let me pause and guide him on his way
and pat him for his speed, encourage him to take the curves
explain afresh the pleasures of dangerous riding
to race the steeps and dare the climb abetted by the wind.
there's no life in cruising, son, your father's hopes are done.
let's tell them no, the rules of championship aren't weakened yet:
on a summer's day, there's much to be said for a marathon.
(the bike too has grown, as you can see!)

TOUCH
touch me again
for you've proved beyond doubt
touch cures

all day we cry
without pain
and struggle to run
all day for the night--
let the cloud split
its gloomy swelling
and pour
for you've proved beyond doubt
rain cures.











and, finally, one of the few poems I've written born of thoughts
from reading a newspaper report.
KUMARAKOM
(after the boat tragedy)
days after the drowning when companion villages
raised the memory of their various dead,
and boats and blame were re-examined,
and officials packed up, exhausted,
dredging out certificates and compensations;
one evening when the wails had stilled the sky
like ghost singers fading out, and the lamp
reached the threshold like any other evening,
the old woman hobbled out, muttering her prayers
and cursing each member of her family
for leaving her alone,
unaware of the reason
for the terrible silence in the house
that invaded even her deafness.

7 comments:

Susan Abraham said...

What a clever, clever poet you are, Shree.
My favourite is Dusk its words, which read like a prism. I do love the colour pink for a sunset and also
your title is captivating. Poems on a String. :-)

THINKOPOTAMUS said...

thanks, Susan!
i was dazzled by the pink dusk too.
never seen one like that.
i've been holding that string in hope for long, nothing new has settled on it, though!

Susan Abraham said...

Hi again Shree,
Thanks for dropping by.
My second blog is important to me as well because it's more streamlined & organised. And Wordpress offers automatic categories. I am going to write on film, art, books & fashion & also literary/writing things.
This because my whole love for journalism appears to have returned and I am thinking of working as a journalist abroad.
I will actually post on both blogs regularly.

In the second one, Sunday Scribblings is the latest post. It's just a writing challenge actually. Below it are 3 items that can be considered literary. Here is the blog. Very simple. Susan A

THINKOPOTAMUS said...

i would love to keep in touch with your progress as a journalist. please keep me informed. your wordpress posts are certainly rich and informative. i've visited and left a comment in the folds of mink.

Susan Abraham said...

Yes, thank you, Shree. I have added your url link in the blogroll. I meant to do it yesterday at the time I wrote to you, but Wordpress was under maintenance.
I am very appreciative of your support & comment. It's amazing how just a little motivation takes a writer's work a long happy way, doesn't it. :-)

robert said...

just went through your site. Read a few of yr columns! Felt sad hadnt read them before!
POWERFUL!
brilliant!

THINKOPOTAMUS said...

thanks, robert. i feel good when i get feedback such as yours. do you have a blog here as well?