On Reading Daniel Brick's 'who Said This? ': The Storyteller Lost At His Story - Poem by Souren Mondal
We are listening to Mozart, my friends
at this time and age,
when we have all grown too old to be stirred
we only can take peace
in the simple moments of our lives
and look back at such days when we were younger -
I remember when I,
a man with more grey yet some black
salt-and-peppery all around
decided enough was enough and
Chose this - this life - this life of freedom and tender thinking
Softly formed like a dew-drop upon a blade of grass
And I left my madness -
The useless chases after women,
the drinks at one o'clock in the night
until the bartender said those ancient words -
HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME
HURRY UP PLEASE NOW IS THE TIME
And I took no notice,
didn't know when the time came and went
I stayed disillusioned like I had become
When she left me -
deserted me on our prom night to go with the Football Captain.
We were supposed to be together
ARE YOU LISTENING? ?
till death do us part
We had dreamt dreams of a life of peace
when we made love for the first time
at the backseat of my second hand truck
on a lonely winter's night
High up at the lone mountains' track
And the kisses were like the first one
at the Park when we held our hands together for too long
and I stared too deep into her eyes....
They were as blue as the azure sky of the playground
when we first met on the fourth day of the school
And I helped her to play with the swings
As her first words came into my ears -
'Hi, I need some help'.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
P: S: I am not very sure if I can actually place this as a 'dramatic monologue' since this is written in free verse, still I did it. If you could enlighten me about it, and think that I may be wrong please do tell me.
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