Monday, April 16, 2007

The Child By The Window

A dusty sun settles on leaves
Weighs them down
They droop
Gold droplets of melting light
Fall into her waiting hands
Warm soft light floats in her palms
She washes her eyes with them
Her eyes glisten
In the fading twilight

These lamps will ease the way
Through the tunnels of my night

10 comments:

Kumail said...

Very good, Sadia. Lovely imagery. Especially the last two lines, which hold a world of meaning.

Vik said...

"Lovely imagery", as the comment above says, were also the first words that came to my mind :)

Max Babi said...

Sadia,
There's more to your poem here than meets the eye
-I have rarely seen such softness in execution. Your poem is a lump of foamy fluffiness- and you have provided it a very seductive charm, an irresistible form. Great!

cheerz!

The Illusionist said...

Kumail & viks: It was inspired by a child who was playing in the window of the house across and while I watched I felt enriched.

Max: welcome to this space :) the softness that gets across is exactly how It was felt.

Siyaah said...

Had to read it more than once. The imagery was very well developed. Still thinking of what all interpretations one could have for 'these lamps' here...

sinner said...

Hmm, going by the comments you have received, I feel a bit scared to say what i want to, but still..
It's not that I didn't like the poem; the poem in itself is extremely beautiful as your others posts have been, but I see a kind of repetitiveness in your imageries..of say, morbid curiosities..
all said, it is always a pleasure to read your works. :)

The Illusionist said...

Siyaah: I don't know, which interpretation motivated me to write that. and now that i think of it, im lost in several interpretations myself.

Sinner: You don't have to be scared to say anything- I don't exactly eat people on a daily basis, only once in a while :D.
On a more serious note, your right about morbid curiosities.. it is getting repetitive.. but the problem is these are the only thoughts that move me enough to write. I hardly feel like writing something im happy about... or rather if there's something im happy about, i cant seem to form an image, a line or a couplet about it that feels good enough to me. recently i visited delhi and something like a poem made its way out of me, about the monuments. I won't say it is entirely free of morbid curiosities, but in parts it is, but i just don't feel its good enough :(. guess I'll post it anyhow

sinner said...

Would love to read that poem. Well it is true for me also that morbid themes come naturally..naturally enough to pick up a pen and scribble something. But the best I love among all your works is Chand. That wasn't morbid.

Sadia, I am going crazy about one thing: even after five months of blogging, my blog does not appear on google search. I have added the URL and the site-status is also VERIFIED. But I have no clues why it doesn't show up. Any clues?
Keep posting.
And yeah let me know when will my "head's" turn come? :P

rashi said...

beautiful way !!
liked the last two lines..
shall visit this more often..:)

integratedchaos said...

mesmerised