Paper Boats
paper boats
there is a moment tarry quiet now
in the graveyard, my window’s
back yard, on all most days
a play ground,
a cacophonous din of
men and boys from charrar pind;
quiet, for the grounds a jheel become,
the gray blue mon soon over head, to day
the boys and men at bay, somewhere, not
even out for a swim, into the silence
i hear ami downstairs, ayesha
drawls something adorable
outside my door,
zola taal’aaaaa, she says; and i
remain locked in my study-of-a-room, and life
goes on elsewhere in another novel I haven’t read.
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Categories: Poems
The last two lines are te soul of the poem. have you started to write for the last line too?
What better way to show the passage of time and the urge to do alot more than just working in a locked room than ‘ nd life
goes on elsewhere in another novel I haven’t read.’
This is beautiful!
Wow. I agree with Sidra. The last two lines are beautiful.
remember the veritable whirlpool of reduction? you two have sucked me up in/to two lines : ) per nahi sid, i don’t know where those two came from in the end, toh no for-the-last-line poe/trics, promse!
laikin, thank you two! your words continue to inspire.
please can you all get the dialogue going and write torrents, abhi? it does wonders for calming the terror of the moments in which i must procrastinate. thanks!