The Cave Poem by Souren Mondal

The Cave

Rating: 5.0


And then came the end of it
Not the very end, but the gradual beginning of it
The pink flowers were not red
The azure sky is not blue,

The mind seized in palsy was not dead



Subtlety, although nothing amazing, leaves all speculations
Alive



I care not, I care not, I care
Not at all to reduce or deduct or decipher
Meaninglessness, confusion, conflicts and all
Can remain inside my brain
I will bear all the pain
I will tear through the dirty muslin
Covering the light coming in the cave
I will touch the sun one day,
Burn in its flames

Burn with its flames




I shall go...






I care not, I care not, I care
Not that I can move no muscle
For I, an old man in a young age, seized with palsy,
Plagued withe the abundance, live and live
And eat and eat and find no sleep
Nor any peace,
The noise of life resumes
The noise of life remains
The noise of life

Restarts



There is no room...

The pen moves no longer
The limbs move no longer
Life moves no longer


All, all have stopped
All, all have stopped



And yet I cannot leave
I cannot leave this dusky cave
I can neither read the hieroglyphics
The incoherent dim shapes on the damp walls,
The mumbling dark rays through the muslin
And the humming of insects hidden in the earth
All make a chorus of meaninglessness
All make a noise of incoherence...

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Nosheen Irfan 23 March 2016

Sometimes life is a dark cave in which our thoughts are paralyzed. The feeling of emptiness described through amazing images. A fantastic poem depicting the meaninglessness of existence.

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Edward Kofi Louis 12 February 2016

The noise of life remains in this matter! Thanks for sharing.

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Valsa George 02 February 2016

I cannot leave this dusky cave I can neither read the hieroglyphics The incoherent dim shapes on the damp walls, The mumbling dark rays through the muslin And the humming of insects hidden in the earth The cave experience described is bewildering. Shut from the rest of the world in damp and murky surroundings with the back turned against light, existence must be a tortuous experience for any one! Even in such a dismal situation, there is a strong hope that sustains you.(not sure if it has sprung from extreme helplessness, or from a strong determination to find a way out from the suffocating and strangling experience......!) However in the lines, I will touch the sun one day, Burn in its flames.............................................................we see the projection of a desire to be freed of the existential angst! If this poem was written at a young age as you claim, it is sufficient testimony to prove that there has been a deep penchant for poetry in you from a tender age!

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Brian Mayo 23 November 2015

Deep-sea diving and spelunking- - two things not to try if you're claustrophobic. As in a diving-bell, not much light filters down to a cave-dweller. Ancient writing is (hieroglyphics, cave-paintings) is a brilliant way to illustrate the distance between your past and present selves. The body may be deteriorating but your mind wrote a fine poem.10

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Souren Mondal 23 November 2015

Thank you Brian.. I wrote this at a time when I was very young, so the mistakes here are a testimony to my inexperience! !

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