Thursday, 15 August 2019

Poetry 2019 Longlist, Siddharth Naivaruni

Untitled

You gave me back poetry.
During those minutes
When we lay there under only a silken blanket
your warm breath on my cheek
and a palm carefully placed on my shoulder.
I'm still not sure
If i will tell this to you
Or show you this gibberish I call a poem.
I'm not sure if you ll understand.
I'm not sure whether I understand yet.
In Garcia's words,
the time before today felt
Like one thousand years of solitude.
I had given into mediocrity
Uncertain if the poet in me still lived.
Thank you.
Even if we do not do this again
I want you to know that
You unlocked a few barred windows
Let the setting sun in through them
and as the light made its way into me
you slept. Sound and peaceful,
Ignorant of the fire you so easily kindled.
Not little sparrows or cuckoos
not acres and acres of tea estates
Neither Joan Baez on my soundtrack
nor the cool evening breeze.
Its the woman in you that's the magic.
In the years to come
When we drift away like everybody else does
In whichever corner of the world you are
Remember this moment
For you, brought me back to life,
When we lay there under only a silken blanket
with your warm breath on my cheek.

No comments:

Post a comment