The Affected Man Poem by Procyon Mukherjee

Even the brightest must move, to the absence of light

That they bemoan, the turbulence of a vision holds;

To the farer in seas, a fate, or a premonition

Suddenly rose from astronomy to the certainty of a birth

Pronouncing, a passage among the phosphorus and the Dardanelles



He who must, the will follows him to the end of what must be

Not to achieve, bit by bit, raising an identity

Port clerk to a Captain, portico to the Azores

Embracing Van Loom, for the children

That must be not mere stories, but Man and his progress



The Latin followed me, almost life-written

But it held like a flicker, pushing me through

Like a surprise waiting to decipher

Not common but uncommon the willingness to the trial

Of a rugged walk, doubting at all times, failing to be



What if, I did, following a flow

Reach from where I could look to see a clear path

Would that have been a progress to recall

Where I am, the branch has held me

From the wind and the birch poplars in a storm



My back, reminding me, my voice, cracking to the noisy Sixth

Just when the Bassoons returned, alternating

Seamlessly to the Shephard's thanksgiving, the first violin in F Major

Moving to the finale, of unity

That the Village always must return to

The Affected Man, somewhat burnt by the passing

Lost his flute, the tunic or the cap,

Among listless pyres, wounded cravings left the smoke

In tatters, neither you could touch, nor console

He held silently to the last piece of the wreckage



26th October 2022



After W.B. Yeats

Now that my ladder's gone
I must lie down where all the ladders start
In the foul rag and bone shop of the heart.

From The Circus Animals' Desertion