a blushful pride — the grey cloak lifting
gently, sweet dreams rising, treated with
sulfur and carbon all night long — PM 2.5
as the air emanates a deathly spell, ghostly-
white with specks of pink-red phlegm on
a boastful sky —
take a whiff of cold and dust, rubbing
irritable, sleep-deprived eyes, and find
the wind-passage to comforts of urban
pleasures and umbral treasures —
waiting, waiting for it to become a time-
turned reality — the morning of this hour,
the cajoling fear of the march —
a numb reckoning for another one to pass,
a chimney-reserved sigh to veil the dark.
.
© Anmol Arora
For Midweek Motif at PU
Image source (A cyclist rides along a street as smog envelops a monument — NDTV)
” pink-red phlegm on a boastful sky,” is incredibly evocative! I recently read about the quality of air decreasing and was terrified upon learning the consequences.The issue needs to be met and given undivided attention.
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Blushful and boastful, urban and umbral–and thanks for the Cat Stevens–the “B”s have it as the broken air becomes visible here–the blackbirds now are the chimneys, of the air that is so lost. An amazing and vivid day breaking sonnet.
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Oh, the city with “whiff of cold and dust”! The amount of pollution in the cities is no joke, it affects health. Your poem brilliantly captures this man-made tragedy.
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I can feel the grey cloak lifting, and love “a chimney-reserved sigh to veil the dark.” Cool.
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“urban pleasures and umbral treasures”
That image sings to my soul. Thank you!
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“a chimney-reserved sigh to veil the dark.”
Incredible image Anmol and teamed with the praises from Cat Stevens. Excellent
Happy you dropped by my blog today
Much🔷️☺🔷️love
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How all the reader’s senses are aroused by this marvellous poem; an absolute delight to read.
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I love your poetic description of what is chocking us each morning, day and night. Reading this made me happy to have moved away from a big city. Though I doubt that I totally escape the sky’s pink phlegm . (BTW – Amazing combination of words.)
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Brilliant and beautiful writing, Anmol. So impressive.
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specks of pink-red phlegm on
a boastful sky — fabulous ..the writing..not the pollution level..one feels for the lungs of Delhi…may they breathe in peace.
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A very timely poem. Sad how a fresh morning could be a nightmare. Thank God we don’t live in delhi (I can’t type capital d in my laptop, don’t know why.). Funny how most Indians overlook this coming disaster. Okay let political games rule forever. Ugh.
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That’s a beautiful image of the ‘grey cloak lifting gently’, Anmol, and I like the way you’ve contrasted it with the ‘specks of pink-red phlegm on a boastful sky’. I also like the internal rhyme of ‘…comforts of urban / pleasures and umbral treasures’.
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“a numb reckoning for another one to pass,
a chimney-reserved sigh to veil the dark.”
Disillusionment, with a mix of loss of hope and desperation, seem to be in the long term forecast. I cannot, for a moment, pretend to understand, but your words certainly have ‘cleared the skies’ re: my attempt to do so, presently.
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A beautiful time of day, full of promise
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kaykuala
a blushful pride — the grey cloak lifting
gently, sweet dreams rising,
as the air emanates a deathly spell, ghostly-
white
one would have expected a wonderful morning but it ’emanates a deathly spell’
beautiful contrast spelled out in one sentence and great writing HA!
Hank
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You captured me immediately with that first descriptive stanza.
Thanks for including Cat Stevens!
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Normally dawn is described as beautiful. It was really creative of you to depict the sad reality. Brilliant.
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The dawn, like its multiple hues, can evoke different reactions. It’s beautiful in its own light even when we have tarnished it. Thank you! 🙂
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I love the thought of a sigh going up a chimney. I saw Cat Stevens in concert way back in the day.
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A lovely poem, my favorite time of day, day break!! And you have caputred it perfectly.
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You described a less than perfect sky perfectly. Thanks for reminding me of this beautiful song. wonderful write, anmol.
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I especially love the description Sanaa quoted. Your poem evokes the strange feeling of that morning sky.
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The air quality in countries that use charcoal…the things we do to our home!
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It’s mostly vehicular and industrial pollution that makes it worse. Our per capita carbon footprint is still far behind the West though. Also, atmospheric conditions and certain age-old practices make such smoggy mornings common during winters.
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I love how you blend the beauty of the hues with the scents and how it hurts… the smog morning in the picture is beautiful while I can really feel it sting.
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I suppose it resembles fog and I adore fog here in the mountains – but smog is another thing and you make it almost sound beautiful – sigh
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You live in Delhi? Even if you’re in the region, air quality is tanking fast. Living with an omnipresent scourge like this is the scratchy background music to everyday life. — You handle it with that touch, almost making music of it. First waking breath is a tough one.
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Yeah, I do live in Delhi. The entire National Capital Region is like a gas chamber. The PM levels were in the severe category throughout the last week of 2018. Even when the government sits here and there are public exhortations that we are abiding by standards to meet Paris Accord goals, no one gives a damn about this death spell. Such is the nature of rhetoric everywhere that we are all perhaps waiting for the doom.
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I’m not sure how you managed to make air pollution sound so beautiful!
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Back when I lived, another life, in El Paso, TX, we had beautiful sunsets o er the mountains and lots of stars shining in the night skies. But mornings in the valley the sky was covered with a huge yellow cloud. Fog infiltrated with sulphur filled smoke from the refineries. Most days the sun burned it off before lunchtime.
That was the memory evoked by reading your poem as it progressed. Thank you for hosting today, I enjoyed reading your letter poem find.
..
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Usage of PM 2.5 was quite thoughtful and innovative! It is impressive – how you have used it so effortlessly! With your words, you have brought attention to the choking atmosphere of Delhi and NCR.
These lines are fabulous –
‘as the air emanates a deathly spell, ghostly-
white with specks of pink-red phlegm on
a boastful sky ‘
Kudos!
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