the single lamp glowers
like a stray dog caught in dishonour —
smoke rises from the lips of a cracked
sky, engines backfire, our staccato breaths
hold our words near, by each other’s side,
as we reflect over the absolute need
to be detached from people, from every-
thing, like the smile of a wicked flower
that is about to fall to pieces —
our tea turns colder by the minute,
our talks do not have the urgency of life,
we are sailing our friend-ship without
its anchor, uprooting planks and prod-
ding needs and exchanges, required
of us — the emotional labour doesn’t
have an eight-hour ending period
of a working (not for me) day,
so we slurp, &gulp down the remains of it
from our vessels — all the words strewn
between us like aimless ash of a charred sun.
.
© Anmol Arora
Day 25
(Inter)National Poetry Month
HA's Place 
Firstly, I absolutely love the artwork you have chosen to accompany your poem 😀 and second … this is incredibly heartfelt .. raw in its portrayal of emotions (or in case of some people the lack of it) keeping in mind the current events of the world. Sometimes we need space from people because we just do .. life is so crazy nowadays that we at times don’t even get a single moment to catch our breath .. let alone entertain long conversations .. on the other hand .. friendships ( there may be exceptions 🙂 ) do not possess the same camaraderie that use to exist in simpler times. Arz kia hai …
“Tum takhalluf ko bhi ikhlaas samajtay ho ‘Faraz’
Dost hota nahin har haath milanay wala.”
❤️
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Your use of imagery here is so vital, from the first sideways glance of a shamed dog to the words of ash strewn to dry the sun.. Brilliantly done.
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Authentic emotion communicated beautifully.
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we are sailing our friend-ship without
its anchor, uprooting planks and prod-
ding needs and exchanges, required
of us …
Wow! This is so well expressed – I feel it. Good to read your poetry again after some time.
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lovers and friends come and go… sometimes we just need to have space. Other times, the relationship needs to grow or be doomed…
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The cityscape you paint int his poem is so vivid, Anmol, that I can smell the smoke rising ‘from the lips of a cracked sky’ and hear the backfiring engines. Two images stand out for me: the simile ‘the smile of a wicked flower / that is about to fall to pieces’, which made me shiver, and the metaphor in the lines:
‘we are sailing our friend-ship without
its anchor, uprooting planks and prod-
ding needs and exchanges, required
of us…’
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The “friend-ship” sails without anchor, carried away by conversation, away from everything and everyone that might weigh it down. Time is lost but something is found again, even if the tea grows cold.
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This made me smile. An impressionistic poem that paints a feeling and a slice of life.
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A poem that paints a picture. Sometimes friends come and go. The worthwhile ones are the ones that stay with you.
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he smile of a wicked flower
that is about to fall to pieces … am considering endings – fleeting and permanent! Always good to read your work, Anmol.
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One of the things that really strikes me is all the imagery of discarded and salvaged things shaping the parameters of this relationship. That image of the dog at the beginning is arresting too. This may not be a dream relationship by society’s, or even the subject’s, standards, but it’s not something that will be any more easily abandoned any more than a dog will let go of his bone.
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I hope the passengers are happy with their lot. With no anchor there won’t be a tender, only stops will be at major ports. The ship captains seem to be so very inept, the boat may soon sink it’s so banged up.
..
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