Once
in the dry season
across two pages of a notebook
I wrote in large letters
"the innocence ends
when one is stripped
of the delusion
that one likes one’s self"
realizing the mistaken sweetness
of self respect
when that string broke
and all amulets , familiar
fell
with a shattering sound
To wake up
in the middle of the night
and to count the sins
(lying around you
in various postures.
Like the dancers
Siddhartha saw
on that faithful night)
is unsettling
Yet, however long we postpone it
eventually that night comes
when we have to lie down
across two pages of a notebook
I wrote in large letters
"the innocence ends
when one is stripped
of the delusion
that one likes one’s self"
realizing the mistaken sweetness
of self respect
when that string broke
and all amulets , familiar
fell
with a shattering sound
To wake up
in the middle of the night
and to count the sins
(lying around you
in various postures.
Like the dancers
Siddhartha saw
on that faithful night)
is unsettling
Yet, however long we postpone it
eventually that night comes
when we have to lie down
alone
in that uncomfortable
mind set
Insomniac
hiding from the demons of the night
under the covers
I remember somebody saying
“it has something to do
with lack of oxygen “
We may say things like
“it takes two to make an accident”
(or a mistake for that matter)
but that never brings in any relief
in that uncomfortable
mind set
Insomniac
hiding from the demons of the night
under the covers
I remember somebody saying
“it has something to do
with lack of oxygen “
We may say things like
“it takes two to make an accident”
(or a mistake for that matter)
but that never brings in any relief
Then midst a confuse of mist
in the mind
would appear , our departed parents
even our grandparents
with tender smiles
as only history would
and tell us
that it does not come from
in the mind
would appear , our departed parents
even our grandparents
with tender smiles
as only history would
and tell us
that it does not come from
soaring skywards
and knocking the waning moon
of it’s balance
But only by running your roots deep
PS: Joan Diddion wrote a beautiful essay on self respect . Some of these sentences are from that piece.
Pluck the sentences and arrange it like this . With a few filler phrases, it becomes a poem!
I hope amidst these confusing hazy lines , you find at least a few of those pinch points that makes sense to you .
Uh,oh, I did.
ReplyDeleteSome, I'm still trying to figure out,
Some, I already know, but phrased differently.