-A window ajar is a prelude in building to the joy of being limitless! That uneasiness of being familiar somehow, sometime, somewhere.......

Sunday, October 16, 2005

Twilight song of the autumn.....

whispers of silhouettes
fade into
darkness of
dead papyrus leaves

mourn
an ancient
relationship
while waiting
for the last bus


someone's wearing
the same perfume
that
she used to ....

we could be still friends, you know

we consoled each other

an embrace

deep soulful sigh
a momentary funeral
for the two,

unmindful
the bus advances
to the future
through the
lingering aromas
of the past....

9 comments:

asuph said...

yoss!

this is exquisite -- interplay of the sublime with the mundane... mourn an ancient relationship while waiting for the last bus... that knocked me down... I bet that was intentional?

A momentary funeral for the two... sigh!

looks like the trip has done wonders to you...

beautiful..

asuph.

Ubermensch said...

asuph,
Thank you for such appreciation.
I just mooch wrote it at the laundry, had a feeling though you could easily relate.
cheers

Extempore said...

Like a mouse in Hamlyn, I am mesmerized by the indescribable music of your writing. This, Uber, is so lovely! Esp this:

soon the unmindful
bus advances
to the future
through the
lingering aromas
of the past....


Christ, I'd like to paste the whole poem... can't really make up my mind about what is more beautiful or what makes me ache, yearn more. :)

Aradhita said...

Beautiful! (deja vu...again)

k a n u r i t e said...

Guess there is always a certain melancholy that goes around in autumn.. or maybe its me.. beatuiful poem nonetheless :-)

EATING POETRY said...

Wow, this is one of those teary-eyed poems. I especially love the line,
"because
someone's wearing
the same perfume
that
she used to ...."

Glad I came across your blog.

Ubermensch said...

hey extempore,
glad you like it so much, where are we overdoing it? :)

And Thanks aradhita

Thanks kanurite, agree about the autumn , guess it symbolises the peg of change and the eternity of flux, hence perhaps the deep melancholy. I think the russians aptly call it 'koshka' or something that sounds similar.

eating poetry,
Thanks for stopping by,
Pleased you like it, hope to satisfy your appetite.
~Uber

Rajesh said...

images...of travel, death, relationship, seperation and memory. This has got it all, even the transcience of their origin in your imagination.

mourn
an ancient
relationship
while waiting
for the last bus


don't tell me you didn't read Vijayan's Legends of Khazak and its last paragraph :)

and if you have not read it yet, you have already touched his metaphysics.

Ubermensch said...

Raj
Thanks for that.Very glad but think its kinda massively overrated by the comments here.
And honestly, I havent read any vijayan, but such reminders hurts.
cheers

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