Through a crevice,
In the soil,
Rose a plaintive cry.
Beat it down gently,
And cover it with mud.
Can you hear it still?
Of course you can’t,
It’s that cotton in your ear.
Where’s it coming from,
Haven’t we plugged all the holes?
From the crevices,
For there were more,
Gnarled hands arose.
Take that, take that you,
Clumsy boor.
What seeds have you planted,
Bungling bumpkin,
Look the plants are out,
To get us today,
Not a moment’s delay.
Run as fast,
As your legs can take you,
But the gnarled hands,
Are waving at us,
Clamoring for more.
Trapped underground,
With loose soil,
Our plaintive cries,
Fall on blind ears,
Our gnarled hands behold.
8 Random Things about me... (From How do we know’s blog)
- Once in a hotel room in Lonavala, a cloud came in through a window and disappeared through another.
- Where I grew up as a child, we were on the 20th floor and the wall facing the Arabian Sea was made of glass.
- Sometimes I have dessert before food. Sometimes all I eat is dessert, especially if it’s chocolate icecream.
- My favorite cartoon strip is Calvin and Hobbes. I also like reading Dilbert, Tintin and Asterix.
- I check out the art galleries in every city I visit. I love shopping for others. I love trying out different kinds of food.
- In my ancestral home we had a creeper plant (bottle gourd) that started in our front yard and went all the way up to the rooftop. I fancied climbing down from our first floor balcony using the creeper.
- Elvis Presley posters are all over my cubicle. I also have a lovely Beatles poster and a Jimi Hendrix Calendar.
- I can’t wake up in the mornings. I can ignore the loudest alarm clocks. I can sleep through a barking Bruno. Sometimes when I have to see the sunrise, I don’t go to sleep.
I tag anyone who wants to do it!
12 comments:
wow!! Thank God You posted again!! And the tag is nicely answered - thank you!
This poem too.. it makes sense, and yet does not, in a way that only you can manage.
You also didnt answer the other question - is someone being extra cryptic lately?
To me a poem isn't definite in its meaning. It means what it means to you.
Nope I am not being deliberately cryptic ;-)
That poem is kinda creepy, methinks. I don't suppose you celebrate Halloween in India?
"Through a crevice,
In the soil,
Rose a plaintive cry."
---good description.
Eric:
Yes the poem is kinda creepy. We do celebrate Halloween out here but its not that 'big' and popular.
Madhuri:
Thanks :-)
Deepa:
Well the tag was about 8 random facts! Plus its gonna be tough to find stuff you don't know, coz miss deepa knows everything :-D
I have to do mine - i completely
forgot - although i am not
so fascinating YOU are!!!
love your poem.
i live on dessert too. and i love Tintin. and your poem. xx
I am reminded of the bitter gourd vine that we had in our backyeard once. Alwayz seemed to suggest life at its very best!
:)
I too agree with 'How do we know', this poem is what you want to amke out of it. To me it sounded the theme of disintegrated human existence, a race gone so starkly selfish to other's misery that even their own pandemonium falls on deaf ears. Kudos to you, for writing such intellectual stuff.
To be honest I look back at my poems sometimes and I ask who wrote this gibberish. But I must have spent hours at this one, don't even remember :-(
HA HA- neat! I can also sleep through just about anything. When the alarm goes off, I dream that I get up, get dressed and go about my day while I'm still sound asleep!!!!!
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