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Colors will shatter the unimaginable darkness of light beings



From the color of dark white walls
The tones of my imagination fade.

Grand glory of historic
bricks, with sharp lines.
Smooth as varnish,shiny
these even colored marvels.

One by one they stand tall
bricks of a grand white wall.
As indistinguishable,
even colored marvels.

But today at the break of the day
The glassy army will enter the field.
One by one the bricks will cringe
Fine lines will appear, from the focus to the fringe.

The mirage of merriness
Squares copulating for a life shall end.
Lines will mend
Pre-written history with a bend.

A few of them will crumble
Few others, remain.
Pinks and reds will gape out of the cracks
Blues and blacks, un-tame.

I watch,
Lost in the clinking of marbles I suspend.
Bricks laugh in front of me, little by little
Some happy, some pretend.

In the shallow of their earthen hearts
How much can they swim?
A metal pendant rusts
A dry rose dreams.


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Comments

Vivek Sharma said…
"colored marvels" is somewhat strange, as is "dark white walls"... Don't think of rhymes, if they come naturally, let them stay... if they don't, let them fly away!
August 20, 2009 at 8:00 PM
Proma said…
Ha ha Vivek!
Its almost like you know where and when I wrote this poem.
You're right indeed, this was written at the back of a grocery bill after I returned to a tiny hotel room from a visit to MOMA(Museaum of Modern Art) in NYC. No editing here. And yes it was forced to a certain extent as I wanted to record in poetry, my reaction to the wonderful paintings there.
August 21, 2009 at 6:35 AM
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