Sleep waits on the periphery
of the niggardly night, to slide down
musty night’s cousins
rustle a leaf there, flap a wing here
and screech somewhere
night’s nettled desires
prepare themselves to
perform a naked pantomime
dehydrated night felt like
a pair of dry eyes
as eye-lids droop in a mild
soporific stupor, there arises
streaks of orange from the sea
at that hazy horizon
orange smears itself
on the plaintive sky
before sprinkling on
the restive sea…
a vague aridity clutches at the throat
while the tongue and cheeks feel irksome
dryness…
There seems to be some influence of sensory deprivation which pushes your essence of life to a threshold and almost inevitably precipitates an altered state as I read this carefully. It's the kind of poem that has a well conceived primordial struggle to it paired with the mind of a certain fragility.
Ms Shahzia Batool: The major character here in the poet him/herself wading through the black waters of insomnia as s/he watches the night taking several attires till the orange streaks dispelled it...
as sleep waits... Is that pantomime staged on the stage of your poem with sleep and night as the major characters? is it written with itchy dry eyes of either an insomniac or a dreamer? an animated/personified presentation of the abstractions...you have started giving a tough time but through an interesting read! ! !
a travel through the night's travails....inked splendidly indira.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice... poem welcome poet...