Posts
Folk Hero
A lyric of screams
writes itself on the wall
Or was it the prisoner’s hand that wrote?
Once I could summon
Horses at will
Once I could fight
Strange wars with evil skulls
But that was long ago…
Then they trapped me with
Their poisoned grapes
I can tell you
I was suspicious of them always
But the air of the home
And the cool wine of the hosts
Killed the fireflies
I had sheltered in my fingers…
I limped about the house
With its cries of crooked newborns…
I could not grip my magic arrows again;
Arrows that shot hurricanes once…
Crowds came to see the miracles,
I remember…
I could
create rain…
Mind you, not all of us can create
But that was long back…
An epic of screams
shrivels the blue garden
Now I scream at the guards at times;
Or play cards with the hosts,
Weeping when I lose the King…
I think my own land
Has forgotten my stories
The bauls don’t sing of me anymore, I think.
A lyric of screams
writes itself on the wall
Or was it the prisoner’s hand that wrote?
Once I could summon
Horses at will
Once I could fight
Strange wars with evil skulls
But that was long ago…
Then they trapped me with
Their poisoned grapes
I can tell you
I was suspicious of them always
But the air of the home
And the cool wine of the hosts
Killed the fireflies
I had sheltered in my fingers…
I limped about the house
With its cries of crooked newborns…
I could not grip my magic arrows again;
Arrows that shot hurricanes once…
Crowds came to see the miracles,
I remember…
I could
create rain…
Mind you, not all of us can create
But that was long back…
An epic of screams
shrivels the blue garden
Now I scream at the guards at times;
Or play cards with the hosts,
Weeping when I lose the King…
I think my own land
Has forgotten my stories
The bauls don’t sing of me anymore, I think.
5 comments:
the pic goes with the blog.
and whats more, i like the first poem so much i'm wondering if someone else has taken up residence in my mind.
the last 6 lines...gripping..trampled glory...i lyk the explicit imagery n the pic too...the pic most def stands out...
"limped about the house
With its cries of crooked newborns…"
uncanny
'baul' a motif?
hmmm yes...I'm kinda fascinated with the baul's search for freedom and his metaphysics...they are India's ancient answer to modern surrealism...I mean their lyrics...
the imagery is great its seldom that i can visualise when i reda but for this one i culd actually see moving images
Post a Comment