Dawning Sky

Another dawn with another poetry
Woke up sweating with insanity
The old ceiling fan crying tirelessly
With its dust sprinkling all over the room
Sleeping bare-naked on the floor
Scratches all over my body
Turned the light on
Checked whether I was bleeding
The clock struck 4 ‘o clock
The empty bottle of coke
Rolling back and forth
In the mournful rhythm of the fan

Lit a cigarette
Opened the door to the dawning sky
I inhaled the smoke
With a deep breathe
The fire glowed like a firefly
The twinkling fading stars
Beneath Dylan’s diamond sky
The tall buildings aiming at the sky
The next-door old man with his Tiffin
Leaving to earn for his daughters’ wedding
Summer at dawn has its own beauty
Inside every room there is humidity

The cigarette burnt out soon
The fire seemed to lit the sun
Soon it rise
Clearing the sky
My dawn was over restlessly
And a beginning of poetry
I sat down with a pencil and note pad
Facing my messy kitchen
The pressure cooker often distracted me
The empty sack of rice made me worried
Soon a cat caught my attention
And she took away my poetry

Poetry to me
Is as instantaneous as bullets
I cannot follow Mayakovsky
I do not aim to make it a sonnet
How can I write about Chile?
I am not Neruda or any Poet
And not about black Americans
I am not Baldwin or Toni Morrison
I see limited things
As my space and time is too
They do not see things that I see
There are many like me who are voiceless

How I started and how I ended
It seems there is no flow
But it is a mirror
And in mirror you do not see
Any discontinuous image
Do you?
Look at my dawning sky
And look at my mirror image
You think there are broken paths?
You think I am trying hard to be a poet
No, I am not
It is just a celebration of little me..

No comments: