Episodes Climb
One over the other,
Like Lego,
Building stories.
Myths screaming,
Incidental drifts,
Roving repertoire,
And tasteful raconteuring.
Lacquered dreams,
Vessels without sails,
Sleeping in humid terrain.
Beams: psychedelic beams.
Linearity, stillness,
Not much displacement.
Fading glory
Perched in misty mess.
20 April 2010
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7 after-thought(s):
I read the poem moments after you posted it.
I re-read it. My favorite still is, 'lacquered dreams'. Probably because of the irony in it. Wouldn't lacquer make it more hardy or enduring like nail paint makes our brittle nails? But dreams are still just that. Dreams. Even wehen we exclaim that they've come true, it's an altered, tailored for reality version of the original.
bhalo.khub shundor
Between each line there are myriad unsaid thoughts and the real delight lies, maybe, in their absence.
And the last lines are familiar, way too familiar.
@Anandi:
"Dreams are still just that, dreams."
They exhibit a transient motion of exquisite well-being, something we do want to freeze or rather 'lacquered'. However, I think its their impermanence, improbability and sense of elusion that keeps us chasing them.
Imagine a life without...
In other words, I second your thought :)
@still thinking:
Dhonnobad.
@ Sujoy Bhattacharjee:
If someone can feel the presence of the 'absents', in spite of the deliberate ambiguity, well, that is commendable, indeed.
The 'subliminal' usually never hampers real delights.
Familiar!
honestly i find your prose much better than your poem(S)....(and this one stands for all your prose....they are so simple and well written without that academic flavor ..like left-overs of peace)....
u might well say that i dint understand this poem...and its true i dint
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