Untitled

Untitled short poem

Photo by matsuyuki

Pen in hand, I struggled,
as the pages begged,
I let them be white,
even if for the day.

But my first battle
was with my tears;
I wondered, could I fill
my ink bottles with them?

No. Leaving you blank,
is to accept our defeat.
I pleaded with them blanks.
And with silence they agreed.

But as ink touched paper,
the black turned scarlet;
My hand dropped the sword.
What dark magic is this?

“Not magic,” said pen & paper,
“our brothers and sisters
were massacred yesterday.
This red is in their honour.”

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Saurin Desai

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Saurin Desai’s first love led to a roaring affair that's ongoing now since nearly 30 years. At the innocent age of 8 he met a comic book that whacked him on the head (pun intended) and he fell heels-over-head, literally (pun not intended). But being commitment-phobic, he had a couple of dalliances: with engineering, jobs & businesses, before succumbing to the seduction of the writer's life and giving up everything to become lazier than he ever was. Through all of this he continued to rendezvous with poetry. And after one very, very, long pregnant pause, the poems that had owned him all these years recently agreed to stop possessing him and start haunting the world. And, here we are..."Solitude and Other Obsessions"
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Archana Kaul
Member

Saurin,
Very nice… with a hint of struggle within and without to express a sorrow…
and I liked the phrase,”and my hand dropped the sword”

wpDiscuz

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