Thursday, June 23, 2011

Half a pause

The sunshine and a smile
lost on half a track in the
rattling of the rails, a few
escape to the flower in your hair
opening up a deceased song, a
few stink like half dead 
carcasses from which poems 
of love refuse to be born. 
A few are lost in the sea 
and in its hands carrying the 
heaviness of millions of memories
only to drown itself in the 
forgetting where the rotting 
forgiveness will be washed on the shore. 

And you who walk
cautiously, yet tragically on this 
shore of time, a time knowing no 
history of immortality, what do you 
collect in your hands, why do you 
make this bag heavy for yourself? 
Did you yet find half the song
buried in those shells when your 
breath touches it? Did not you 
find a wail, a half cry, or a trembling dream 
there? Why yet you 'being' keeps walking? why yet 
you rails keep moving? would you know till the last, 
what moves when the tracks don't? 
what sings when you don't? 
who cries when you don't? 

And you the 'being', the born and 
'half a life' yet know not.
have a pause, a silence 
wait a moment, slow this time 
and this run, for
you and me


  1. manohar this is good
    - naphisha

  2. I was thinking of pause and its utility for thought and memory, but they I started to think of your 'half pause' and thought a thought: if thought is already pregnant with meanings, how would look like 'half pause'! the imagery is nice...I understand that the idea is in silence and memory polishing, why this, why that, but my interest now is in the 'half' concept! You also now are invited to break your pause and see where the 'half' is located...where the middle stands, and what part is a real pause, the right, the left, the middle...M.Hashas

  3. M.Hashas, excellent comment! The poet should take a "pause" and seriously start a hunt for his better "half"...

    The poet's wellwisher