A Quest on Overdrive … :)

An eccentric rambler on life's lessons and mercies, found and lost… :)

A Poem, Buried

8 Comments

It came to me
A poem.
Crept into my
Sleep,
Surfaced in the
Sub-conscious

Tantalizingly
Softly caressing
With a lover’s touch.

I remember smiling
Then shushing it.
It faded.
(Slept on, with me!)

Then why did I feel
A heaviness
A hurt
Singeing, searing
Under my eyelids
When I woke?

Why do my eyes
Seek it?
Why do I feel
That crushing
Sense of loss?

I buried a poem
In the soft loam
Of lost words.

Weary words that dropped
Overworked, but under-used
Heavy with nuance
Staggering, weighed with
Too much meaning.

Lost thoughts, groping
For expression
Mourn that poem.

Other poems come
Squeeze like tears
Through ink
Asking to fill the void.

I give them space
And try to flatter myself.
Attempt to smile
And live.

In vain.
For, it now comes to me.

I am that poem
I lost.

22 September, 2014
Would you believe this crept through eyelids a few nights ago, and left; revisited during invigilation time, yesterday morning. Too nonsensical, surreal maybe. But a goosebumpy personal favourite for me, now 🙂 🙂

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Author: Usha Pisharody

A rambler, pretends to be a teacher, loves to dream, and go on Quixotic Quests in the Realm of Romance With Life...

8 thoughts on “A Poem, Buried

  1. totally get this one.. Loved every word.

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  2. This is brilliant. It builds up slowly and goes deep and finally the revelation is in place, in time! 🙂

    And ode!

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  3. Ah, beautiful. Just why you should never bury a poem for too long and be sure to share it with us. 😉 😀

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  4. I read this with a sigh
    I think hard and still don’t know why
    Can a poem make you cry?
    If i say no, it would be a lie
    and to write like you I can only try.

    Absurd? It is so profound. The journey called life makes you do the burials, some in broad daylight and most in the solitude of the night.

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    • Wow, Govind you do this scribble an honour rare
      With meanings, and nuances in your verse, as you share
      Such emotion, your quatrain in me does snare
      I find your, most truly, more apt than mine were. 🙂

      Bad quatrain I know, but I lack that dexterity with words and rhymes you have – so I think the shoe is on the other foot 🙂

      Thank you so very much. Such a delight and honour to have your verse grace this one too 🙂

      Like

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