Monday, 16 November 2020

Star fall

 

Time spots the mirror and the photograph,

creates the marks and also wipes them away.

A silver moon statue, mug of half-n-half;

a much loved profile, a rather well known laugh

tapers and stills. Dead flowers in a bouquet

make their way to the river piled on the hearse

and a certain star shaped void’s our universe.

 

What will patch it up, make good the damage -

no-one has a clue, no-one takes a guess

the wise men proclaim so, all the poets pledge

wait for the ones to come, they’ll be cutting edge;

but now’s a gun salute, now’s a grieving mess

for every star must fall, even stars must fall.

The universe must shrink to a star shaped hole.


7 comments:

  1. How I admire (and envy) the way that you make words dance. Sombre dances, hopeful dances (depending on the season), but such heartfelt truthful and beautiful dances...

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    1. Taken a bit of a knock this weekend, an iconic Bengali performance artiste, writer and dramatist has passed away. Glad you enjoyed the poetry.

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  2. even stars must fall...very sad

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    Replies
    1. It's inevitable and even more tragic because of that.

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  3. The loss of a special star in our lives is a lot to deal with.

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    Replies
    1. Yes, it does feel like a part of one's childhood and teenage has been ripped away from oneself.

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