THE WAIT(PERPETUAL LACK OF MOTION)
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Ten thousand days
I have waited here,
watching, with
stone cold eyes...
blind eyes,
breathing with
stone numb
heart,torn apart...
Now, I cannot
remember,
for long
dismembered,
I cannot remember
my face...
Ten thousand times,
have I written,
of forgetting and
remembering...
the importance
of remembering
to forget,
and of forgetting
to remember...
now I cannot
remember at all...
I cannot remember
at all...
Ten thousand days more...
Anirban Kapil Baishya(27/03/2009)
2 comments:
Lovely. Although , I have no great knowledge of anything in life, but this poem was really evocative. For some reason , I dont know why , it immediately brought memories of some ruins ( maybe material or immaterial) before my eyes. But there is no doubt that Sika is a brilliant writer. Especially when he is at his orgasmic best!!!
Lovely. Although , I have no great knowledge of anything in life, but this poem was really evocative. For some reason , I dont know why , it immediately brought memories of some ruins ( maybe material or immaterial) before my eyes. But there is no doubt that Sika is a brilliant writer. Especially when he is at his orgasmic best!!!
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