Kushal Poddar |
Lone Seat - Summer
On those Summers lives pass
before the shadow of the tree
reaches the seat
my thoughts and memories brown
their skin while bumming within.
You may find me on the lone bench.
I shall turn, still reclined, still
too stirred with the ardour
for the shadow in that still-life of mine
if you near.
Then the shadow will touch my feet.
Awakened, I shall stretch and wear it.
I always have a date with nothingness.
We go nowhere.
***
Lone seat - Rain
Grass grows long. Even now
their tips look curly.
A few more days, they will wrap
the seat, sheathe the wood,
metal pieces, Sun, shadows,
and those moments some couples
find intimacy in their lives.
One day I may jog past the bench
without noticing its existence.
My shoes may crush a snail crossing.
I'll not feel anything.
***
Birds Exhumed
The birds Exhumed
from the earth's innards
rush in the sky, a tingling,
a sprinkle of adrenaline.
Alive again, a deja vu of a mirror,
I open my palms as if by design
ashes the birds will be,
and the flakes of grey will cover my skin.
“I always have a date with nothingness.” Kushal
ReplyDeletePoddar’s poetry always moves us out of thought into an area of pure feeling. It allows the mind to discover its contradictions, its illusions, its certain uncertainty as it moves through the world; it shows the mind its longing.