the crow perched on the black railing,
our dark eyes confronted each other
for a moment,
he thought it to be inconsequential,
looked hither-thither and flew away
in a gust of air, that hung before me,
leaving a trance-like image,
right before my difficult breath,
if i were him, i would have done away
with it, but his nonchalance
only made me wary
of my own condition,
i am burning without fever,
i am shivering without cold,
the food has lost its flavor,
water, its pungent taste,
to drench the morsels of belief,
what if
this was it, this is it,
this would be all —
this unremarkable grey sky
reduced to my grey vision,
my pudgy, little fingers
no longer capable,
every thought bursting in its own smoke –
left-over chunks of an explosion –
this wrecked structure, this unused
view —
would i be afloat
when i fall?
~
© Anmol Arora 2018
For Midweek Motif at PU
Image source
***
I have been working on a new Insta handle for over a month now, for literary and creative posts: @anmol.ha.
For contact, you can reach out to me through my multiple profiles, enlisted here.
Such an interesting write – you really excel
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What we don’t know, but ask again and again (whenever someone extraordinary–like a crow–looks at us without care). LOVE the McClain song. Turn it into a blues, and the thing is uplifting–go figure. Thanks for this amazing poem.
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extremely angst filled, yet with a delicate touch of the insouciance and indifference that comes from always being on that razor thin edge … of being caught, between “here and there” – the counterpane pointed dance of hope and absolute despair; and it stains and taints and one longs and wishes for wings … but yet, is there relief to be found?
you’ve so well captured the whole totality of what it means to be so enmeshed and wrapped up in these feelings –
and the music is just wonderful, but then, I’m partial to the blues 😔
and I have to say, I really loved the second stanza, the words and tone are just perfect …
he thought it to be inconsequential, …. leaving a trance-like image,
right before my difficult breath,
that is so powerfully evocative ….
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Thank you, Pat. It was written in the haze of a smoke-addled mind — it leaves that kind of a trace in words thus penned.
Blues set the mood for the unraveling of thoughts — I prefer ghazals when I want to lose myself in them. Ha! ❤
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Definitely held my attention, loved it!
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I like this crow, almost a part of the inner self, its nonchalance, this little darkness. A floating-falling moment nicely captivated in a ‘what-if’ frame.
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Thanks, Sumana. A crow within or out — he works as a fine symbol for the inked darkness. 🙂
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What if this is it… if only that question has an answer ..yet we are programmed to hope..the dna of survival… sometimes it takes a crow to trigger the big questions! Great write…
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I think the big questions are most often the ones we encounter and face more readily. It’s the questions of daily life and decisions that are somehow harder to tackle.
Thanks for paying a visit. ❤
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This is a wonderful poem, and its conclusion is just perfect. A wonderful response to the prompt.
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Thank you for your kind words, Sherry. ❤
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It is said that when we encounter a black crow, just tune into its behavior and it will give us a clue on how to use the wisdom it carries. Life is unpredictable and often lures us into desolation and despair … the “what ifs” posed in this poem are heart-wrenchingly powerful and makes me contemplate and question the purpose of life all over again ❤️
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There is not an answer to every situation. Bold action may suffice, bluff is a possibility, diplomacy might help but in the end the only two real options are retreat or face the consequences…but decide quickly or the decision will be taken out of your hands.
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Luv this, my appreciation senses love, betrayal and angst cleverly wrought
Oh the music goes so well with your poem
Happy Wednesday Anmol
much love…
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The idea of reaching a point when change or growth or better is not possible… is a terrifying one. What would one live for if live offers nothing new and the old seems so bleak? I, too, wonder if there would even be something I would want to float on.
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Reblogged this on Go Dog Go Café and commented:
Hello everyone- Linda’s pick for Pay it Forward Thursday at the Go Dog Go Cafe!
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Thank you for reblogging. I appreciate it. 🙂
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Brilliant writing!
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Maybe, just maybe, the poet won’t have to answer the terrible question with which the poem ends.
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I found this fascinating. Hard to stay afloat even now.
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Hard to stay afloat even now — I know right, isn’t that so?!
Thanks for paying a visit. ❤
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😊
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What a wonderful poem. You are a great writer
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A dark write Anmol, thick with the greyness you describe so well, wrought from the anguish of a despairing soul.
I’m not quite sure whether you are alluding to bridge-jumping, but if so, the finality of this act always concerned me, when it was spoken to me by folk who were considering doing it, and I would speak to them of this finality, the inability to change ones mind upon the leap to the fall.
During my work life, I’ve bandaged many a cut wrist before sending off to hospital or urged others to attend same after overdosing, for in these desperate acts, the finality wasn’t written in stone and the ability to change ones mind was there.
But although I’ve walked in the shadow of these beautiful people, I have never walked in their shoes, so have never judged others from my comfortable place.
I do so hope your words are of past memories and feelings and are not of now.
The kindest of regards.
Anna :o]
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