My lips wanted to fall in love
My lips wanted to fall in love
My lips wanted to fall in love,
I did not want to, but just as the milk
boiled over from the pot on the stove, a bitter smell—
Poems fly around gravity.
Walking down the road, I stumble,
fall flat on my face.
Borrowing a breath from the eyes of a bee,
I think there are some memories, some fantasies,
that remain with the mother of spinach.
The drunkard is singing as he staggers along.
A sacred bull stands in the middle of the road,
and with a belly full of hunger, I return home.
One side is hollow within,
the other filled with hypocrisy.
The fallen condition of the Harijans does not end.
Sometimes I think, My Lord,
how many geniuses are swarming all around me,
so why am I stumbling when I go to the grocery shop?
Sunlight comes through
the branches and leaves of the neem tree, broken sunlight.
The mute becomes articulate,
they begin to speak, to tell stories.
A monsoon night. Dense darkness. A village road. Water and mud.
Fireflies in the bushes. The croaking of frogs. Crickets.
The smell of the primordial earth drifts through the air.
Humans have created cities; there are no humans in the cities.
Some strange creatures live in the civic zoo.
My poor verbs cannot touch them.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
