Thursday, November 27, 2008


This is a has-been.

Some inordinate

Computer written leftovers.


Pathetic, really

When you recall how

on the very same day

I ran my fingers

across the screen

pretending that this was Braille

and if I couldn’t stand up

the poem could.

(What else? Where else can I write now that I know for sure how much a Waterman costs? Unless you’ve been to Paris, of course.)


The very same day

You were lying down

to look at the ceiling

imagining your

stoic circles and ellipses

raining down heavily.

So I thought I’d ask

whether you needed


with distending

your grungy little story-plots?


(While your over-pumped muscles fail to straighten out the lines in your head, lines you have read, someday, somewhere)


yes, I trail my fingers

on the monitor


the other hand

uncurling its fingers
and balloons



(Pathetic, really, even though we knew the rules of the game. Now, you cry cheater.)


Jadis said...

this reminds me a bit of the passage from Brighton Rock.
"...and when she wasn't living in the future she was living in the past. As for the present she got through that as quickly as she could, running away from things, running towards things, so that her voice was always a little breathless, her heart pounding at an escape or an expectation..."

I love the language, the choice of front(hee!!). And the faraway-ness that is so signature you!

The Mad Girl said...

So after a tete-a-tete with the poet and an analysis, I have discovered that I like the poem much much more than I did when I read it first.I love the way the portions in parenthesis reveal a story and the not so apparent subtle play of images.It's surreal and a poetry for cultivated minds![pardon my eliticism]

monidipa said...

too beautiful. why do you write so little poetry? i wait.

Anurima. said...

@Jadis: too much of Brighton Rock you are reading. :|

@MadGirl: Honoured. :D

@Monidipa: I wait for your poems too. you hardly write :(

(¯`•._.•[Raaji]•._.•´¯) said...

wow... beautifully done! :-)

Inam said...

Hey this is very beautiful, the tone. The flow that moves so silently, yet jars at times, and the subtle notes of a piano emerging from the pen...