[Je hais le mouvement qui déplace lignes,
Et jamais je ne pleure et jamais je ne ris.]
On many a lonely nights,
I laugh on myself when I
think that I cannot even cry,
when memories,
unwanted like a leech,
suck up my soul,
and puke it up on my face,
Those memories belong to me,
but you are not mine,
Why is this discrimination?
Equality in love is but a myth,
One big
black
horrible
Screwed up myth
I have lost you
finally,
You have left me,
My love is like a black muddle of tar
You have left
but your memories don't
And I cry and laugh at the same
time
on myself,
on this love,
Because now,
I can neither laugh nor cry
neither leave your memories till I
die...
I was wondering of your knowledge of French.. so I checked Chandannagar through Google... and found that it was a town originally built by French.. they have been there till you got independence.. interesting.. BTW your city looks nice
Don't you need a salvation from a state when you feel so numb that you can neither laugh nor cry! As long as you hold fast to sore memories of the past, you will still find yourself in a Doldrum....! Cut loose of the ropes of memories that bind you and come out of this inertia........ flow..... flow like a river to a greater destination! Salvation awaits you!
Lonely night laughs at me and I cry. This sequence expresses wise humor. definitely. But I cry and smile to feel the joy of love and this sequence again regains in hope of life. Very amazing poem shared.10
I like this poem. It is very RAW and that is what one feels like in such a situation....RAW...vulnerability cut open with EVERYTHING exposed. Well done Souren. Not all writers can do this effectively. This is a skill that you have. I'm sure it takes something out of you to write this way...I hope cathartic.
Thank you Pam.. This is by far the reason why I write, to let things out.. Sometimes they feel as if I'm writing with my own blood rather than ink - - it is painful, but the pleasure of expressing oneself is the most amazing one.. It's cathartic to some extent and 'brave' to some other. But either ways, I can only write about emotions.. The wounds I write about are raw.. And I love that kind of literature or art - be it Sylvia Plath, or Charles Baudelaire, or my own favourite Jean-Paul Sartre and even Friedrich Nietzsche - all of them wrote about RAW emotions, feelings and philosophy.. In painting too I always preferred Vincent van Gogh, Munch and the expressionists.. There is something 'charming' (probably a weird word here) to bare oneself.. It's powerful! !
Verily, man never loses memories I invite you to read my poems.
This poem deals with the same subject as RED DOT - unrequited love. But how different the two poems are, and that's a good thing for a poet. To approach the same subject in a variety of ways. This poem, this version of the experience emphasizes the raw emotion, the immediate feeling with no metaphor to carry part of the emotion. It's all very present here, raw and inconsolable. Baudelaire's quote is apt, but just his presence adds another layer of meaning as a fellow sufferer in the search for love.
Thank you very much sir.. As a young man with limited experiences, I have a very few themes to talk about, but I always try to present them from different points of views, trying to show how I I feel about the same thing in different times.. Thank you very much for commenting on my poem, it's always an honour :)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
For some reasons, the full quote from Baudelaire is not getting published despite my several attempts its, Je hais le mouvement qui déplace lignes, Et jamais je ne pleure et jamais je ne ris.
probably it is because you've used '[' Do simply use normal brackets ' ' ''