Carry me, my love, she said,
And I carried her to bed.
Numerous lies were told her there,
To catastrophe she was led.
Tautologies I recited in her ears,
I had nothing else to offer.
Unwearyingly she learnt to live,
In this empty king’s empty coffer.
But I was up to evil again,
I slaughtered her unborn children of hope.
Blinded her with recursive silence,
And bound her with a fantasy rope.
Every fiber of her being, then,
Was held prisoner in my breath.
Carry me, my love, she said,
And I carried her to death.
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- suraj sharma
- my mind, therefore, becomes this outstretched field of immeasurable serenity, which, although illuminated at angles awkward and unfamiliar to my eyes - is neither dark nor twilit. The strange lighting turns the vacuous foreplay of shadows chasing shadows into an euphoric, almost utopian feeling which is held in suspension as long as this configuration of appearances beckons the restlessness of reason ever forward into the uncharted hinterlands of imagination while at the same time compelling me to bless the lighting director.
3 comments:
I really love your poems...They are so great :)
A-M-A-Z-I-N-G poem suraj!!
man how do u manage to write these yaar!!
im so awestruck yaar!!
i hav no words!!
Very powerful and painful.
It has so much meaning. Well done!
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