Tuesday, December 17, 2019


In This Blindness

The great blindness comes within sight
ahead of the umbrage, twilight.
Yes, I know the other connotations this
refers when we discuss about it in
the milieu of insects sizzling like a critic's grin
against a totem lamp and time.

You say, youthfulness of the decadence
disturbs you the most. So green. So dying.
I wipe the firmament, read fate in Braille.
My wishes canoe down Montaro, begs for
forgiveness. My flesh flies into a flame.
You grin again. Existence cannot provide
a solution to the death.

Silence, I request. A child runs a wheel
near the horizon. Because of the dim,
because of the pollution we cannot see him,
but can't we feel him embossed on the sky,
earth and beneath?

--Kushal Poddar

Short bio-

Authored ‘The Circus Came To My Island’, ‘A Place For Your Ghost Animals, Understanding The Neighborhood’, ‘Scratches Within’, ‘Kleptomaniac's Book of Unoriginal Poems’, ‘Eternity Restoration Project- Selected and New Poems’ and now ‘Herding My Thoughts To The Slaughterhouse-A Prequel’ (Alien Buddha Press)

Author Page - amazon.com/author/kushalpoddar_thepoet

Twitter- https://twitter.com/Kushalpoe

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