Tarun Kishore Kanungo

Home At Last - Poem by Tarun Kishore Kanungo


Wonder if I ever had time to know to
what and where I am led to and why that
Neither ever arrive nor end,
Perpetuate turning me an alien to myself
regardless of where I land or
how the mirror reflects me.
At the end it painfully occurs
all running been wandering endless
Nowhere to nowhere
continuity unbroken

Standing dumb, eyes meekly rolling over
the setting of the sun over distant horizon
gradually darkening
pale yellowed reddened sky that
slowly deepen in hue as darkness
devour fainting light,
Wherein emerge in me that
starlike twinkle unwilled,
hazy at first, grow brighter as
Darkness thickens
brightening my vision.
Centered at that shut off all that
percolate and stir violent.
Dumb struck and lost in the witness of new,
I look around moving along that
spins me back and forth, it dawns
all movements merely are
part of a normal routine maya sparked that
keep repeating over and over,
which in being drawn,
one gets inevitably
blown out scattered
in bits and pieces
all over within and out

In that it dawns, in seeing the farce that
hit me hard igniting my senses that
burst forth into laughter unprovoked wherein
past present future merge, together
reel it out all aloud that
echo forth loud
shake me up seeing that have
dragged me to chasing shadows through life
playing hide and seek with myself that
grew to be part of me against my will.
I realize to tear away persisting darkness
I need only to be myself
in total defiance of all that
hold me into naught
hovering over surface
brush past skin just as
clouds vainly venture to hiding the sun.

Pulling back to gather
every scattered bit in me that
either grown dormant or in swoon,
I ventured to measure up to that
time hide invisible in me
at the back drop of odds
culminated through ages that
though echoed forth constant
ages through in protest,
it only grew inaudible yet,
its been vibrating ceaseless to tell
running away from is no different than
running away to.

Hands locked almost paralysed rise not,
no matter how hard I try to reaching myself.
What baffles is that routinely
slipped attention blinding vision despite
sleepless eyes been wide awake life long
braving it all that blew tough and harsh
right under my nose.
Hit hard I realize, it needs
more than mere eyes to
seeing the unseen in the seen.

I force break all locks to rise tall
defying all that blocked me to sing,
recollecting lullaby my mom sang me often that
earned me sleep through in peace
far away from dreams
the world and worldly conjure.
In the recapitulated I vibrate in rhythm that
strike effortless
lead me to reborn in myself
tuned sweeter still than ever in being
transformed anew into blessings
ending all wanderings that
world and heaven may have carved
conjoined with stars to playing games.

It’s in that collecting breath back,
giving in to all that blow and burst.
Gladly take time’s beating that
fling me at will onto spine shattering
thundering waves that toss and grind
growing wild and wilder
rhythmically chiseling away
all that in me be not to feel to
be home at last
rediscovering me in the lost.


Topic(s) of this poem: verify

Form: Verse

Comments about Home At Last by Tarun Kishore Kanungo

  • (12/3/2015 9:52:00 PM)

    Reading your poem very carefully, trying to interpret what it's meaning is, having a somewhat difficult time at deciphering it. Although I was able to understand some very brilliant and thought-provoking ideas and concepts throughout it, your use at times of words did not quite fit and understanding was elusive. Maybe doing a rewrite and breaking down some of the lines into more astute and understandable meanings. The gist of what you are saying is evident, but bogged down by the usage of words at times. Perhaps if you read this poem out loud, you will be able to hear and condense it favorably. Look forward to reading it again after editing it! Thank you for sharing! You do have great potential in poetry! RoseAnn (Report) Reply

    (12/3/2015 11:20:00 PM)

    Dear Roseann,
    I am thankful for your observation and for sure would act on your advice.
    No doubt poems are to be ambiguous by their very nature but if it creates confusion, it's not the same
    as ambiguity. May be you sense confusion in the expression and in re-reading from your point of view
    would try how best it can be eliminated.
    I thank you again for your careful observation and comments. Tarun

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  • Kelly Kurt (11/26/2015 9:33:00 AM)

    The unexamined life is not worth living. Thanks, Tarun (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, November 26, 2015

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