(Brought me asking yet again a helpless -
"Now, where to?")
For company was all I had back then
An ebbing ebb of
Self-assuring words at times,
To a frenzied slew
Of words, twisted & few
Which sapped & gnawed away
My spirits into mute stillness.
Like no adversary had ever managed.
Then another capricious turn
To a voice of rhetoric that mocked,
At every occurring thought
In my breathing existence
Angry at what, I knew not.
Every mono-syllable I pondered over, or dropped.
Words plundering away words
I had uttered, memories earlier,
Words I saw, heard, smelled, lived -
Were they ever in my favour?
Or was it a path, I ought to have taken not?
Those words had more life in them
Than I then did, let me tell you.
Now and then, a war of words with
The consciousness of words
They and I had created
A dialogue, now supporting, now doubting,
I had become a dilemma.
Words are all I had at all those times,
And they failed me when
I needed them most.
They sought a different muse.
Conscious of their mistress's dormant existence
Stammering her way through life,
Were they teaching me a lesson?
To take ownership of my articulations
With courage, wisdom & tact,
That which I probably lacked
Here comes news
Within dreams, with strides taken,
With gestures, glances, I awaken
As I cross paths again with words,
Uttered - un-uttered,
Now knowing their worth
Breaking the slumber
of
Clenched fists,
Asphyxiating knot of syllables,
Scripting now,
Drops of ink
That shall make a million think.
one cannot measure the amount of exhilaration that I go through when I read a brilliant poem. and shruti..this is your best, in fact the best I have ever read in my life. you are a poet of the class of eliot and plath! (at least in my opinion)
ReplyDeleteAnd despite being versed in the vestibule of words for 22 years now, I can never come up with apt expressions to convey how your genuine appreciation of what I write, encourages, motivates me. It makes me a more confident writer, when I decide to take hold of the pen again. =)
ReplyDelete