Possessed Poem by prabhakar bhatlekar

I watch Sudhir seated
near window in reflected light.
He's lost in his own world
out somewhere along
with this fractured city.
Hie Xray eyes focused
on the deformity
of the sweaty lanes
by the damned structures
formed by dwellers.
His canvas is meditating.
Sudhir may awaken it
from the White darkness.
But not now! Not sure when!
Sudhir turns and looks
at the palate and brushes.
Then his possessed hand
touched the canvas.
And the invisible noisy crowd
overflowed the canvas,
Shaky structures danced.
Sudhir picked the wet brush
and wrote the gaudy song
of this panting city.